#people need to watch the news and start being more realistic

[lapisalatus]

Asaba Harumasa and Relationships

So I saw a few posts saying it wouldn't be fair for Harumasa to be in a relationship with someone because it would hurt them when he does. But that is completely wrong to say. He is just as deserving as anyone else is to be able to have a relationship.

And saying that he shouldn't be in one because of his illness? That is unfair to him. Yes it would hurt the other person when he does die, but it doesn't mean he shouldn't be allowed to pursue a relationship. Harumasa likely already believes that he doesn't deserve to have relationships with people and having people keep a distance from him would only affirm the belief. And having people leave because of his illness only adds more to his belief that it is his fault people leave him.

Speaking of specific relationships he has, with the proxies Harumasa was tentative about letting them know about his illness. But of course they were able to figure it out from spending some time with him during his agent story. He slowly started letting them in just a bit more the more he spent time with them. Harumasa is happy to be able to spend time with Belle and Wise. But there are still some things he wouldn't be so willing to talk to them about. He passes off some of his own concerns as a joke so that they don't worry about him. While he let's the proxies in, he is afraid of giving too much because he thinks that could lead to them leaving too.

And with Section 6, they are people he grew to trust. Harumasa spends time with all of them, but he never shared about his illness with them. They only ended up finding out after he had nearly died.

With Soukaku, he sometimes jokes around with her. But he will apologize if he makes her cry. Like when she tried some of his coffee and he joked about how his life span was shortened now. When Soukaku started crying about not wanting him to die, Harumasa promised her he would live to 100 even though he knew it wasn't realistic for him.

With Yanagi, he is someone she worries about and nags for work. But she still looks out for him. In the Pale Wasteland story, Harumasa mentions how Yanagi had been ready to call a hospital and plan a funeral when he had started coughing up blood. Yanagi cares about his well being. She had even subtly told the new recruits he was training that Harumasa was sickly and that they should make sure he doesn't overwork himself. And lots of the new recruits listened much to Harumasa's annoyance. He had only been trying to make sure Yanagi didn't overwork herself.

And with Miyabi, Harumasa does care about her even if he teases her sometimes. During the Bringer incident when Miyabi is captured, he reminds Yanagi that they need to focus on capturing Bringer. Not because he doesn't care about Miyabi, he does care about her. He just also knows that if they focus on rescuing Miyabi, Bringer could get away. And Harumasa trusts that Miyabi will be okay. And she is. As I had said before, Miyabi also looks out for Harumasa by getting him things she knows he will like (bitter melon juice) and she praises him a lot too. She believes he is stronger than he let's on and says she never wants to make an enemy out of him.

While Harumasa had asked the proxies to kill him if he were to become an ethereal, I think he wouldn't actually let that happen. Even if he were to ask anyone of Section 6 to do the same thing, he wouldn't wish that on any of them. During the movie event, he says it would be horrible to watch your loved one die in front of you. So I think that if it were to come to it, he would take things into his own hands and stop himself before he becomes an ethereal just so no one he loves has to be burdened with doing it.

Even if you do or do not ship Harumasa with anyone in Section 6, it is hard not to see how close he is to all of them. They are people who care for him and he cares for them in turn.

Harumasa is someone who is just as deserving of love as any other person is.

[davinawritings]

You can write werewolf × reader!Fox fem (enemies are lovers), where we constantly tease him)) (fuck)

Pairing: Male Werewolf x Fem Fox Hybrid Reader

Warnings: Sex, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding, creampie, knotting

I hope you enjoy ❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

Realistically, your feud with your massive werewolf neighbor was not something you should spend so much time and energy on. In all fairness, he started your little feud when he trampled over your flower garden on his way back from one of his runs. 

You confronted him once you saw it, and he told you to stop being so sensitive and grow more flowers. From that point on, he became enemy number one. If he wanted to be an asshole, you would be petty and make him miserable. It started small with things like sending him anonymous packages that shot out hot pink glitter when opened and sprinkling his entire front yard with orbeez the night before it rained. He always matched your energy, giving just as good as he got. 

Months later, you needed more ideas. However, a new thought pops into your mind as you see him arrive home from a run. You have lived next to him long enough to know his rut should be starting tomorrow, and he is always particularly wound up the day before. 

What better way to torture your werewolf neighbor than to tease him right before his rut? You quickly run to your bedroom and change into a very short sundress, deciding to forgo panties. 

You make your way to his house and knock on the door with a sickly, sweet smile. Upon noticing your presence, he answers the door with his usual scowl. His voice is gruff and slightly raspy as he asks, “What do you want?”

His voice sends tingles straight through your core, and your brain falters momentarily as you take in his scent. Your pussy begins to slick with arousal, and you squeeze your thighs together. You recover quickly, watching as his eyes rake over your figure and his hands clench, his claws biting into his skin.

You bat your eyelashes and reply, “Well, I was going to make some cookies and realized I am out of sugar. I was wondering if you had any I could use.” He looks at you skeptically before he licks his front teeth and says, “No, I don’t have any sugar.” 

You give him a pout, smiling internally as you watch his eyes flicker to your lips. “Ok. I figured, but it was worth a shot”, you say as you begin to make your way back down the steps of his front porch. 

Right as you get to the last step, you give a small jump to get down to the ground. The small rush of air causes the short skirt of your sundress to rise. You use your tail to flick the skirt even higher, clearly showing your lack of panties and spreading your arousal through the air.

You make it one more step before his strong arms pull you back and into his large chest. He dips his head low, his snout brushing your ear as he says, “You shouldn’t have done that, little fox. I have been fighting for control since I opened the door to you in this fucking tiny sundress. I’m starting my rut, and you decide to come over here and put your ass on full fucking display. This slutty little body is just begging to be bred and knotted”. 

You know you should stay strong and pull from his arms. This is supposed to be you teasing him, not giving in to him, but as you feel his massive cock rub into your lower back, you can’t help but moan and rub back against him. He growls before pushing you onto your hands and knees right in the front yard. 

“Wait, we need to go inside. People could see us”, you say, moving to get back up. He places one of his hands on the back of your neck and shoves your chest against the ground; your ass is high in the air as he flips the bottom of your dress up and over the small of your back. 

“I don’t think so, little fox. You weren’t so concerned about others seeing this perfect little ass. I’m going to fuck you and breed you right here where everyone can see you being my little slut”, he says. Before you have a chance to respond, he thrusts inside of you, and you scream out at the stretch. 

He sets a brutal pace as he fucks you with the sole purpose of knotting and breeding your tight cunt. You can’t help but meet him thrust for thrust, as he rearranges your insides. He manages to hit every fucking nerve ending in your dripping pussy, pleasure crashing over you in tidal waves. 

You should be embarrassed by the spectacle he is making of you. A small glance up shows that your neighbors are indeed watching him breed you; your moans and screams clearly caught their attention.

He leans down and gives a low chuckle as he feels you cream all over his cock again. He gives your ear a little nip before teasing, “You like this, don’t you? Everyone watching me claim and breed you. I can feel your tight cunt cumming all over my cock, and you haven’t even gotten my knot yet, little fox,”. 

You can’t even respond, too overwhelmed with pleasure as he gives your ass a harsh smack, grabbing your tail and pulling on it to drag your pussy back to him with each thrust. 

His thrusts speed up and become harsher as he works to fuck his knot inside you. Your nails dig into the dirt as he gives one last push, his knot popping in and splitting your pussy wide open. Your scream as you cum harder than ever before, your legs shaking and tears pouring down your face as your try and fuck yourself back on him as much as possible. 

He moans loudly as his cock finally starts filling you up with his seed, his knot keeping everything locked in tight. He holds your trembling body close to his own as his orgasm finally comes to a stop, your pussy and womb overstuffed and full of him.

He holds your lower half against him tightly, trying not to jostle you on his knot too much as he stands. He begins returning to his house as he says, “Get ready for when my knot goes down, little fox. That was just a taste; I haven’t even truly started my rut yet, and you haven’t seen what I plan on doing to this gorgeous little body now that no one is watching”. Your cunt clenches around his knot, already excited for what’s to come. 

❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

[fresidoll]

★ TANGLED IN LOVE, STUCK BY YOU FROM THE GLUE. tsukishima kei

.ᐟ Content summary: Boyfriend Tsukishima headcanons.

.ᐟ Includes: Tsukishima x fem!reader

.ᐟ Word count: 1.4 k

.ᐟ Content warnings: none, just fluff, sfw, kinda realistic?)

.ᐟ A/N: i’m never understanding why people see Tsukishima as someone completely mean, without feelings and horny all the time. The title of this are lyrics of this song of beabadoobee btw.

.ᐟ ☆ Part 2 ☆

☆ His glasses have small stickers you put on them, sometimes they are in the lenses in a place where they don’t block his vision of course, or sometimes they are in the temples part of the glasses. Tsukishima never takes the stickers off, he lets them fall on their own and when this happens he always casually lets you know so you put on new ones. He doesn’t mind at all if the stickers are glittery, or pink, with strawberries or something girly, he doesn’t care as long as those stickers are chosen by you for him to wear everyday until they fall off.

☆ He learned origami out of boredom with youtube tutorials and learned to do several animal figures that he threw away after making them, usually he makes origami when he needs something to fidget with when he’s watching a tv show or a youtube video so the figures don’t matter. But then, he learned to make origami flowers and instead of throwing them away, he started to give them to you. The first ones he gave you were made in plain white paper and then he bought a pack of paper in different colors so the flowers would look more real. He usually hands you the origami flowers without comment and tries to be nonchalant as if it wasn’t a big deal but it’s obvious he gets flustered when you smile and tell him how pretty the paper flower is, he would grumble about how it isn’t a big deal and they are tedious to make, and yet you’ll receive another flower from him not too long after that.

☆ Tsukishima is not someone who likes PDA, so he won't be kissing you and hugging you in front of other people or in very public places, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t affectionate. In public he shows you his affection in small touches like holding your hand, staying close to your side, letting you cling to his arm and when he has to leave your side he’ll discreetly kiss your temple or your cheek. In private he would be a little more touchy but not too much because he’s shy, okay? In private he would be more comfortable in placing his arm around your shoulders or around your waist, he’ll rest his chin on the top of your head while hugging you and he’ll even peck your lips sometimes.

☆ The dates Tsukishima likes the most are picnics in the park, museum visits, going to the movies and having a movie night at his place. He likes the kind of dates that don’t require a lot of planning and are more spontaneous and in which you can be comfortable so you both enjoy each other's company, if you like dates like dinners and all that, he wouldn’t dislike them at all but the kind of dates that are more chill are his favorite ones.

☆ One of his favorite activities to do with you, is building lego sets. They don’t even have to be those expensive official lego sets, the cheap ones that are figures of anime characters or sanrio characters work perfectly fine by him. Usually you take turns in buying the sets either online or in a store, you always get one or two for each of the characters or things you like. Usually, the day of your lego date it’s in the weekend when neither of you are busy; you order food and get some snacks to eat, while building you talk and watch a show or youtube videos. Tsukishima actually loves to be doing something he enjoys to do with the company of someone he cares a lot for.

☆ He gets nervous and hyped everytime you go to his games.Your presence gives him a boost to do his best in the matches to show you how much potential he has, but at the same time he gets nervous of you being there in the public because he doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself in front of you. It makes him flustered everytime he hears you cheering for him, the tips of his ears get red and he tries to ignore the funny looks the rest of the team gives him or else, his face goes completely red. Even so, he actually smiles big and feels a little giddy when you hug him after a match, and tell him how amazing he looked and how well he did it.

☆ If you’re part of the team, he tries to focus on the match but at the same time keeps an eye on you and it’s quick to let you know what you should be improving during the game so the team can win. Of course, he doesn’t tell you what you should be doing better in a bad way, he just wants the team to win and wants you to exploit your abilities in the best way possible so if you don’t win, you won’t blame yourself. After the game, he will hug you and tell you you did a good job, he will tease you by faking to be arrogant when you compliment his performance but he will actually feel happy that you think he did good, it makes him feel good with himself to know that he was useful to the team.

☆ He's not the jealous type, but he is wary of other guys getting too close to you. He doesn’t like it when guys get too touchy or too close to you, it makes him uncomfortable and kind of self-conscious. He knows he isn’t the most nice people out there, or the best good-looking, he knows his personality it’s one of his biggest flaws and he’s afraid that you might realize all of this things and leave him for some guy that it’s better than him, that’s why he gets tense when other guys tries to flirt with you or gets too close. He has never tell you this because he thinks it’s embarrassing and dumb, and he can only hope that you don’t realize all his flaws, or that at least, you don’t mind them.

☆ He got matching bracelets for you. Tsukishima is not someone that likes matching clothes so he went with something basic like matching jewelry for both of you, but it made it meaningful so it wasn’t just an ordinary thing. He got two affordable bracelets first in the same color, then he bought two pendants that matched for the bracelets that would resemble you and him respectively, he went with pendants with the first letter of your names with a little fantasy diamond encrusted. When you were given the bracelet, you never took it off and neither didn’t he. It was an obvious but subtle way of letting everyone know that you two were together and that you belonged to each other, that was why Tsukishima bought the bracelets, he loves to see you wearing his initial and also loves the fact that everyone can see you are with him and only him.

☆ One of the songs that completely describes what Tsukishima feels for you it’s Glue Song by beabadoobee. The first time he heard the song, was kind of accidental but as soon as he heard the lyrics and searched for it’s meaning, he found a meaning to all of that he felt for you inside his heart. He can not describe all of what he feels for you or how important you are to him, but as the song says, he found himself being attached to you in a very unexpected way and soon enough, you became one of the most special people for him, it’s something he has never felt before. He can’t bring himself to be away from you, or to let you go, he just can’t even imagine it without feeling a heavy stung on his chest, so he is planning on spending his whole life with you, he knows it’s soon to be taking a long term decision like that one but he is sure that he wants to put a ring on your finger and spend his whole life next to you. You are just like glue and are stuck with each other, and if you ever consider to split up, Tsukishima would try his best to glue you two back together.

.ᐟ ☆ Part 2 ☆

[prettiestmini]

Congratulations

A oneshot 𓂃۶ৎ

Young!William Beeman x Wife!reader

Warnings: Fluff, foul language, smut at the end. Fingering etc

GIF not mine! but by @staraayla <3 dividers from Pinterest. And proof read!

After closing a pretty big deal down at the office, William decided to throw a party for his business associates and staff on his brand new yacht.

Now normally, William just liked to privately celebrate his accomplishments. He was one of the top stockbrokers sure but this deal was huge, why not throw a yacht party right?

If you were being realistic, you never liked these parties. A lot of the people that attended were stuck up and rude, nothing but nice and gentle fronts for others to see. Especially the wife of Williams business partner. Amy? She worked your nerves like no other.

You and Will had the pleasure of attending the wedding of some very nice people Will did business with, and Amy? Well she wore white to the wedding, and it just spiraled into a mess.

The yacht was relatively big, had a lower and upper deck. As-well as a downstairs lounge area under the first deck, it was a really cozy spot. Maybe one of these days you and Will can relax down there while driving on the lake.

The party was bustling with activity, you and William walked out to the main deck to greet all of the guests. His hand was right above your ass, guiding you to stay close to him. He sported a nice pair of khaki slacks and a white button up. It was only a yacht party after all, no need to be wearing his finest suit.

You had insisted on not swimming so you just wore a nice black dress, nothing too special but still casual. William was gonna be taking it off of you later anyways, so you were content with it.

‘ Ah, William! It’s great to see you dear boy. ‘ An older man with salt and pepper hair approached Will, shaking his hand. ‘ Mr. Alphonse, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a while ‘ Will responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer to his side.

Will smiled, ‘ Alphonse this is my lovely wife y/n ‘ he introduced you proudly. His lovely, gorgeous, sweetheart of a wife. His pride for the most part. You gently smiled and shook the man’s hand, ‘ Nice to meet you Alphonse.. ‘ Alphonse looked surprised, before smirking. Turning your handshake over to kiss the back of your hand.

‘ It’s a pleasure my dear, William why didn’t you tell me you tied the knot? I would’ve sent a very nice wedding present. ‘ Will couldn’t help but to chuckle, ‘ Nah it’s no big deal, our wedding was pretty small and private. I appreciate your statement though, when we renew our vows in about ten years I’ll call you up yeah? ‘ Will and Alphonse both let out hearty laughs.

About an hour later Will made a toast, and popped a bottle of celebratory champagne. Pouring you a glass first, and kissing your temple. ‘ Thank you, my biggest supporter. I love you, you know that? ‘ he smiled down at you, softly kissing you.

You smiled, taking a sip of your champagne. ‘ I love you more, did you know that ? ‘ Will chuckled, ‘ oh no don’t start that, you can’t love me more than I do you. And… I can prove it to you upstairs.. ‘ He murmured the last part in your ear, pulling back to smirk at you deviously.

Not even thirty minutes later you and Will had discreetly disconnected yourselves from the party, going up the deck and into the first room. Before you could even make a joke he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours.

He was kissing you like a man starved, hands wandering down your back to cup your ass. ‘ God I’ve been aching to get this dress off of you all Goddamn night.. ‘ He giggled a bit, he was pretty tipsy. ‘ Yeah? Well now you have the honors ‘ you snickered in reply.

He fumbled with the zipper before sliding it down, watching your soft skin be revealed to his heated gaze. His calloused hands gently rubbing your shoulder, sliding the dress further down until it pooled around your ankles. ‘ You’re so fucking gorgeous.. ‘

He gripped the back of your thighs and hoisted you up to press your back against the wall. You leaned forward to press kisses from his jaw down to his throat. Lightly suckling at his Adam’s apple, eliciting soft groan from him.

You smiled at him, letting him lean forward to kiss you again. His one arm still holding you up, while his free hand slid your panties down your legs. Now you were completely bare against the cool wall, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘ Fuck it’s cold.. ‘ you mumble.

‘ No worries sugar, you know I’m about to warm you right up.. ‘ His fingers went between your thighs to your slick folds, smearing your arousal. ‘ Fuck it’s like Niagara Falls down here… this all for me baby ? ‘ He muttered, looking up at you.

‘ yeah— oh fuck ‘ you snickered at his joke before it turned into a moan. His ring finger slid into your hole, his mouth leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the soft peak until it pebbled, tugging it with his teeth a bit. Pulling a whimper from you as he curled his finger at the same time, sliding his middle finger in along side it.

‘ How you feeling, you okay? ‘ he looked up at you, lips parting to let your swollen nipple go. Finger’s effectively pumping and scissoring in and out of you. ‘ I— fuck ah… I’m okay.. ‘ His words almost didn’t register to you at first, mind too fogged up with pleasure.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, he leaned over to suckle and bite at your neck. Leaving a few marks, but just below your collarbone. Considering you still had to interact with guests after this, he didn’t want you to be embarrassed. ‘ Fuck you’re so wet.. it’s just running down my hand baby. ‘

‘ Mhm… ‘ you blindly made a noise of agreement, you didn’t really know what he said to begin with. Hips just barely rocking into his fingers, even from your suspended position of your back against the wall and your legs nearly over his shoulders. If there’s a will there’s a way that’s for sure. He slid his index finger in and you moaned, the third gave you that delicious burn.

His three fingers sped up, the thumb going up to rub circles over your puffy swollen clit. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and the wetness between your thighs. You were close, clenching around his fingers. Fuck you needed it so damn bad. ‘ Will baby please.. ‘ You whined into his neck.

‘ Close? Gonna make a mess on my fingers baby? ‘ His fingers sped up, hitting and curling right against that special spongy spot. ‘ yes- fuckkkkk— feels so good. ‘ you whined, eyes fluttering. ‘ You can cum, cream over my fingers for me. ‘

Your toes curled, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your head tilted against the wall. Will leaned forward and swallowed every noise of pleasure that threatened to spill, every whine, every whimper, every moan.

‘ That’s my girl.. there you go… ‘ His fingers continued and slowed gradually, prolonging your release. ‘ Always so good for me sweetheart, so proud of you. ‘ He kissed down the valley of your breasts, lazily taking a nipple into his mouth . Pulling away with a soft pop, he slowly lowered you to your feet.

He held you up for a minute, letting you get your thoughts back together. Peppering kisses all over your face, and finally your lips. ‘ You back on earth? ‘ He smiled, causing you to roll your eyes.

There was a pretty prominent bulge in his slacks, and you knew he was just aching to take care of it. ‘ ..Do you want me to? ‘ you gestured to his crotch in question. He looked down and chuckled ‘ Nah it’s fine, I’ll live. And besides we’ve got all night. I’ll get you when we get home.. ‘ He purred against your ear, giving the lobe a graze with his teeth. You giggled ‘ Yeah okay okay, if you aren’t wasted by then. ‘

He put his hand to his chest in mock offense, ‘ I’ll have you know I hold my liquor very well. ‘ You gave him a ‘really?’ Look. ‘ Will you’ve been tipsy this entire time, I’m not sure you’re making it to the end of the night. ‘ He chuckled, ‘ okay sure you got me there, but I’ll sober up. I still wanna celebrate in the hot tub tonight after all… ‘ He pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

‘ Guess what? ‘ He smiled at you ‘ What? ’ you giggled. ‘ I love you my gorgeous wife. ‘ you smiled wider, kissing his temple. ‘ And I love you wayyyy more my dear Husband. ‘ He let out a laugh ‘ Oh don’t you start that again, I’ll prove you wrong everytime sweetheart. ‘

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ! ,, and go easy on me this is my first time writing in years haha. Feedback is appreciated !!

[cleradinhive]

byler can't be unrequited

the fact that there has been no content makes it really easy to get doubtful about what we already know to be true. here is why byler being unrequited is almost impossible if the duffers are even a fraction as talented as we think they are.

we have ALREADY got the unrequited arc in stranger things. more than once!!!! dustin liked max and robin liked tammy thompson. reusing this storyline for will (albeit on a much grander, heartbreaking scale) would be extremely lazy and unfulfilling. if will were to move on from mike and have another boyfriend by the end of the series, that would literally just be a direct copy and paste of robin's (and dustin's?) arc.

how satisfying is it to mirror the only two queer characters storyline's almost 1:1?

the main argument we see of ignorant ga members: "it was the 80s, mike not liking will back is realistic and would help older queer people feel represented on screen."

sure... but robin's crush on tammy has already fulfilled that relatable storyline. the sheer impact of "i wanted her to look at me" and robin's coming out scene shouldn't be understated. personally, i was only a confused kid watching that scene for the first time, but in that moment, i felt understand in ways that i wasn't even aware of. i've heard similar experiences with young and older queer people (namely lesbians) while watching that scene. the heartbreak was real.

however, by season 4, robin conceded to the fact that, okay maybe tammy isn't that great.

meanwhile will is literally just beginning to understand how in love with mike he is. mike makes him feel better for being different. this isn't just someone that will saw in passing at school. he is not going to move on from mike after loving him for as long as we've known them, either. imagining will undergoing the level of devastation associated with unrequited feelings when he's this in love with mike feels cruel. advancing the supernatural plot or his "coming of age" arc would not be enough to justify the level of suffering he would face.

queer people felt robin's pain, but the straight ga is fine with putting will through the same thing on steroids. the way the duffers talk about will's character makes me confident that they would handle his story with more care than that.

the unrequited pattern we've seen in the show is:

dustin: likes max -> max likes someone else -> starts dating suzie

robin: likes tammy -> tammy likes someone else -> starts dating vickie (in s5)

is this really something we need to see a third time? wouldn't the right time to give will a neat and easy new love interest be when he moved to california?

the duffers want the characters to have their perfect endings, even if they are shocking.

after being targeted and heartbroken for pretty much the whole series, is being alone or with some random side character at the last minute will's perfect ending?

no. it's not.

[darkpetal16]

GENERAL HOW TO SURVIVE ERROR HEADCANONS

T/W: Toxic / dangerous relationship, kidnapping, mass murder, genocide, etc. . . standard warnings for Error. I don’t even know how to categorize this specifically, he’s so insane.

Error is, unequivocally, a wet-cat of a monster.

This man is volatile, emotionally immature, and psychotic. He is the definition of a walking red flag.

You are not safe if this man dislikes you.

You are not safe if this man likes you.

You have a 50/50 chance of still being unsafe if this man doesn’t even know you exist.

Encountering this man is a risk in itself, but keeping his attention? You better be able to hop dimensions without help, or be very good friends with someone who can.

Your first encounter will go one of three ways:

One: Unremarkable, he won’t remember you. Congratulations, you are spared his ire. Unfortunately, there’s still a chance he’ll destroy your world and wipe you from existence just because he feels like it.

Two: You leave a positive impression. Congratulations, you are now being kidnapped and dragged into the antivoid.

Three: You leave a negative impression. Congratulations, you are now being murdered.

Realistically, there is no “winning” or “surviving” this man without external assistance.

For the sake of this narrative, however, we will continue with the branch of a “positive” encounter.

If you’re clever-tongued enough, you might have a chance to persuade him to *not* kidnap you. You might be able to argue that it’s better for him if you’re left in your current world.

Don’t try to tell him his world is dangerous. He turned out okay, right? R̭̹͈̤̦̝̟ͥͧ̾̇͆̚͢Ì̵̡̛̻͕̝̈́̾̉̕͢͡͡Ģ̷̢͍͗̚H̷̴̡̢̢̩̭͓͍͎̠̳̱͕̮̺͙̙͚͓͕ͮ̔ͦ͒̌̇͒̍̍̕͜͡T̬͍̥̭̙͘?͔̠̱ͦ̂̉͛͐̎ͩͥ̇ͫ̀ͨͦ̅͞

Or, perhaps, you’re friends with someone who helps you leave every time you are kidnapped. The scatterbrain psychopath may forget you were ever kidnapped, and over enough time of seeing you in your own world conditions himself to “that’s just where they are.”

Or, maybe, maybe, maybe, the voices in his head will like you enough to help you. Wouldn’t that be nice?

However you manage it, a positive-impression on Error goes a long way in. . . surviving(?) him. Perhaps, one day, even thriving(?) with him in your life.

This man doesn’t really have friends. At best, he has developed people who tolerate him–and he them–and at worst he has people that he despises with a fervent passion.

Loneliness, and prolonged self-isolation does a lot of damage to anyone. He is no exception to this. His stint in the antivoid, in addition to corrupting his very SOUL, has left him lonely in a deeply profound way. He doesn’t even fully realize how lonely he is due to the trauma done to his psyche. Being alone is so deeply ingrained into his being by this point that having someone become a (positive!) permanent addition to his life will. . .

A lot.

He lacks the emotional maturity / stability to handle the influx emotions in the beginning so he’ll feel overwhelmed easily.

If he likes you enough, he’ll start to spontaneously visit you.

Spontaneous visits will become your new norm. Time is irrelevant in the antivoid, so Error will never keep track of it for your world. At any point in your day / night, going forward there is a genuine chance of Error tearing apart the fabric of your reality and popping his head out.

His reasoning could range from anything small like seeing if you have anything good to eat, or to something more time-consuming like wanting to kidnap convince you to watch his soaps with him.

As long as you respond to his visits with delight, he’ll be embolden to keep going. Show him how happy you are to see him, and he’ll comfortably return.

But don’t be alarmed if these visits just randomly stop at some point for weeks or months on end. As mentioned, having an positive emotional connection can be a lot for someone so deeply disturbed. He’ll need to withdraw and “recharge” from you.

It’ll get easier with time, just be patient with him.

On that note of him visiting, though, it should go without saying you should always have good chocolate on hand.

Even better if you can make it yourself.

If you both get lucky enough for him to randomly visit you while you’re making chocolate, he’ll be tickled pink to watch the process and sample the batter as you go. Nothing beats good homemade chocolate as far as Error’s concern. And chocolate made by someone he likes, and not from that abominable world Underfell? Even better!

When you reach the He-Finds-Comfort-In-You-Like-His-Dolls stage, that means you’ll be getting visits when he’s hangry (hungry and/or angry).

Maybe he’s just craving chocolate and hasn’t realized how much time has passed since the last time he’s had some.

Maybe he’s in a sour mood that Ink harassed him.

Maybe the voices in his head won’t stop screaming.

Whatever the reason, having chocolate on hand and a smile on your face is the best way to handle the situation. It cannot be stressed enough that you have to keep being a positive experience for him, especially–ESPECIALLY–if he’s already in a pisspoor mood. This world-destroying-trigger-happy man is typically react-first, think-second when it comes to his tantrums.

To survive him, always do your best to keep calm. You can’t feed into his manic moments, nor encourage his destructive impulses (don’t say “Yeah, they totally deserve to get destroyed!” or things along those lines)

When he talks to you, listen. When he comes to you complaining, soothe him. When he starts talking about how nice it would be if you stayed in the antivoid with him, distract him with chocolate. Oh no, how can I make all this yummy food in the antivoid? Oh nooo. . .

Unfortunately. . . there may be times where, in his delusion, he thinks you already know something you don’t. He might conflate the voices with your voice and misbelieve something. If you can, play along to get more information. If witty enough, you might be able to pull out all you need to respond to him.

If not witty. . . distract, distract, distract.

Just don’t do it too often. He’s not stupid, and he’ll notice the habit which won’t end well for you.

Stay calm. Don’t get animated, don’t overreact, and don’t get loud.

This man is volatile and overly sensitive. He will never respond well if you yell at him.

“Y̴̷̸̴̶̧̧̭͖̻̻̗͕̙̦͓̘͉̱̳̯̬̻̠̌̈́̆͒̍͂ͫ̈́͛̀͋̇̊͊̚͟͜o̢̨̬̙͚̘̞̣̟̪̱̩͓͉̞̞͕ͨ̐̈́͆̿́̾́͂̔͟͢ǔ̵̢̨̫͕̺͚̺̘͉̫̓̑ͬ̈ͨ̅͑͂’̷̧̛͙͚̃ͨ̐ͯͧ͂͊́_̵̷̡̯̼̹̤̠̩̝̇͛̍̀͑̔ͧ̽͟͜͢͡r̡̰͇ͭͥ́͛̋ͯ̾̎ͩͪ͋̎͡ͅe͂ n̡̟̳̥̣̗͖̖̲̪̬̪͙ͨ̐̎̔͂̄̇̄ͪ̽͂ͪ͢͠o̷̬̬̩ͪ̉́́̒͋ͫ͘͝͡t̸̨̡̡̫͎̫̦̥̪̺̭̱̮̭̺͖͍̞ͤ̆̀͗̄́͋̑̌̎̿̋ͩ̔̊̿̚̕͘͝ͅ M̛̲̩͚͗̌̊̑ͦ̚͟��̷̛̞̬̪̝̹̖̖͍̠͚̝͉̻̫́͐ͤ́͐ͫ͆̂̓̚͘̚͟_̩̭ͩỲ̵̶̶̖̮̝̖̺̲̫͎̙̞̺͚͓̝ͧ̔͊̓́̀͆͋̓ͯ̉ͪ͆́́ͩ̒͢͠ Ỵ̴̯̬̌_̤̥͉̦̪̘̈ͧ̇̃̋ͧ̉͗̓ͧ͞͡/̷̵̰͍̗̥̦͚̮̯͈̺̱̥̒̀ͬ̑̾́̓͌͆ͬ̇̚͟͝͝_̼͙̣̬̭͕̮̈́̆̍͗̏Ñ̨̡̬̰ͨͫ̊ͯͦ͑̒͑̓̃̔ͧ͜!̢̧̛͍̩͓̥̱̒͂ͤ̅ͨ̇͊͊̚ Y̢̝̘̤̹̘̤͖̺̭͂̐ͯ̆̌̑̇͞/̢̧̣͕͓̙̦ͫ̉̃͠_̸̢̹ͦ_̰͚͊̈ͦ̇ͅN̘͉̭͎̥̩͈̳̰͑ͭ́̊͂̍ͭ̂̓́ͪ͒̍͌̚͢͜͠ w͚͔̰̝͂̈ͦ͋̽ͭ̈́͜_̵̨̢̳̱͙̪̳̥͙̲̗̜ͦ̇ͦ́ͧ̆̐͐̐͑̕̚ö̧̧͓̗̩̝̬̭̗͉̤̺͉ͪ͂ͪ̈́͒͘û̧̙̜̳̲̞̞̰̻̜̯̯͖̭͕̔́̏̀̈ͤ̏͌̏̆ͩ͆͐̄ͧ͐̈́̈́̄̚͠l̸̢̧̘̭̘͇͔̱̝̋ͤͬ͒̄̂̔ͧͣ̑͠͝͠͝d̵̴̷̢̛̫̜̻̻̱̰͕̜̱͈̑͐ͧ͂̏̀ͯ̌̊̒̈́̐̾̀̌͐͑̊̂͜͜͡͠ͅͅ n̸̷̬͓͚̝͓̦̦̼͚̜̼̩̈͗̇̌̍ͬ́̓̈̿ͬ̃ͨͨ̎͘͘͢͡͠ȩ̛̛̣̹̺͍̹̥͍̜̩͈̐̋ͪ̐̾̉̏̔̒͗ͬ̎̊ͬ̏̀̑͂ͥͫ͗̐̓̾̀̕͢͡͝͝v̶̶̧̨̡̯̰̼̰͚̣͍̬̬̱̣̫͇̞̖̥̐̾́̒́̄̈́ͯ͐̎ͨ̂ͧ͂̓ͥ͠͡e̟̎́́̂ͭr̠̖͓͐ͬ̿̓ y̧̧̨̪̙̝͙̳͈͙̋ͭ͒̎ͭͩ̉͑ͦ͗͂̒̕ȩ̀̎͌ͥ̂̉l̢̨͈̺͕͍͉̯̪̮̿̇ͬ̈́̉l̢͖͉͓̙͈̯̭̻͓̬͓̠̞̣̉ͩͣͩ̂̄̄͌̋ͦ̾ͭ̆̚͘͘͡_̜͈̭͈̥͒͑́ͬ͌̇͑ a̸̶̷͓͓̲̮͚̞̬͖̒͗̇͗ͮ̒͊̄̂̅̀ͪ̏͠t̛͓̫̆ͨ_̵̴̵̨̡̛̘͖͓̲̑̿̎͊̃ͣ̎̆ͤͮͪ̓͘ m̷̴̢̘̺̝͇̩͎͐́͑ͮ͌͗ͣ_̶̢͓̱̘̝͙̯̬̲̦̹̈́ͥͫͯͤ̋ͣ̽ͤ̒̓̅͘͞͠͞e̶͙̜͉̞͖̖̟̅̊͊̂̇ͤ̉ͫ͜ͅ_̲͎̦_̧͓̼̥̖͎͙͔͚̹͖̻̲̤̓͌ͪ̈́̍̽̿̒͛͑.̸̡͔̖̹̮̺̱͈̠̩̼̦̂ͫ̓ͯͣͨ͐̾̍͘͟͜” Cue your impending death, and him replacing you with a doll.

Or

“Ț̛̱̻͉͈̲̫̮̺ͪ͒̊̂͂͌̊̀̽̋̀́̽ͤ̕͘͘͟͟͞ͅọͩ_͖̭͓͖͔̀ͨ͜o̫ l̷̩̺͍̹͉̝̺̈́̍̑̊ͣͪ̋̕̚o̸̺̜͖̣͖̣̼̤͋͆͛̌̈ͥ̕͘ͅu̧̩̺̬̺̪̫̱̰̟̯̒́̄͆̄ͤ̈́͗ͥͣ̄̈́ͪͭ͂͂̈͢͝d͉͎̠͚̑ͧ͋̽͜͝,̵̨̰͈̓̏̿̈́́ͫ̚͘_̴̬͔̩̂̽͗ͪ̅͡ t̸̨̧̨̛̛̲͖̦̝̩̰̬̠̘̩͊̈͒̽ͯ̃͐͐ͭ̊̀̉̓ͦ͘͡͡͠o̡͎̹̻̰͖̐͒̉ͭ̎̒̌̇͊ͦ̄͐̔̊͞͠o̸̡̮̪̼͚̺̽̓̃́ͨ̐̂͋͘͟͝͡ l̸̴̛̻̺̗̱̬̝̮̘̤̳͕͖̟ͬ̔̌ͪ̍̌̽͋́ͭ͘͞ͅo̤̦̬̥ͦ͗͜ͅ_̴͖͈̬͇̳̣͂͐̓̀̇͘ů̷̸̦̫̺͈͈̳̳̬͎̣͖̝͔̫͎̠̋ͤ̍̑ͪ̎̏̂̀͌̏ͤͪ̔̓̃̒̿ͮ̀ͣ̈́͘͢͜͝͠d̶̮̫̺͛̎ͧͨͮ͊̐̓̿̀̏͆̕͢͞ͅ_̞ͥ̈́̆̎͝,̴̵̧́ͥͩͤͤ̔͛ ṫ̷̛̠̭̱̭̗̤͉͍̹̳̻̮̠͚̰̝͇̊̉̋̅ͩͤ̉ͧͥ̅́ͬ̐̂͋ͯ͗̿̚͢͞ö̵̷̧̡̨̜̱̬̞͙̠̹͉̹͚̘̦̖̔͊̃̔̋̀͐̔ͣͧ̀͊̕͠o̡̙͉̗͉͚̼͑͑̊̾ͤ̑ͨ͜͠_̪̼̳͖̽̇̽͑̾ͥ̐͊̃ͅ l̨͇͚̞ͨ͊̎ͪ̓o̸̘_̴̸̨̗̪̯̦̲̗̗̝̙͔̼̻̺̯̗͂̓̓̾͐͑̋͂ͩͪ̎̄̾̊͊ͪ̚͟͠͞u͐́d̴̡̢̛̼̘͙̞̰͒̂͐ͣ̈́̔͆̀ͣ̄̓̀,̭̀ͣͨ͐̕ T̷͙̹̖̦̂ͨ̇͗ͨ̿ͮ̎́̋͆ͯͤ͡ͅ_̟̫͙̱̺̹ͥͯ̈̅͆͋̕͟Ǫ̶̴̤̭͖̹̖͆̃̇̀͟͝Ò̤̮̩̠̬͊ͤ́ͪͭ́ͦ̍̄̌ L̡̛̪̖̟̮͇̬̣̟̼̦͕̣̞̊̌͗͗̈́̿̋ͧ͛̑̎̇ͨͣͯ͟͟͟͡Ơ̷̘͎͖̹͚̻̞̙͌̀̐̃̏͐͌͗̏ͬ̒̐͐̒̚̕ͅƯ̶̶̩̝̖̬͙̖̜̤͈͈̯ͨͬͩ̃ͪ͗̐̍͗ͭͦͬ͋ͩ̚̕͢ͅD̷̹̰͇̦̼̖͍̓̐͑̐͋ͯ̒ͧ̀̈́̈ͣͫͥ̀ͮ̚͠͠!͍͙͈͈̇̃͗̕” Cue you strung up in the antivoid with a stitched mouth to be silent.

Consistently presenting yourself as a balm to this man will have him coming back over and over.

And he will.

His chocolate addiction, and impulsive nature are the perfect combination to feed into a new hyperfixation. Namely: YOU.

Through repeated positive exposure, you will inevitably become a necessity for his day to day life.

From spontaneous visits throughout the day, to full-on hang sessions at your home.

He’ll start to leave things at your place because he’s there so often. Perhaps a blanket, or a beanbag he’s particularly fond of. Then a doll, or two, then some thread and needles. Then maybe you’ll find a spare room has been taken over by his threads and he’s snoring in his makeshift hammock.

Bit by bit, he will move his life into yours and integrate himself into your life.

Be prepared that when this happens, your home will now become the unwitting destination for many surprise guests. They’ll require their own survival guide to get through, but at least you have some semblance of protection with your association with Error.

If you have a basement, solid chance you’ll encounter strung up individuals there. He knows better than to hang them in your living room, and who wants to look at those faces while he’s eating? Not him! Basement they go.

Your home will become a horror movie set within a month. Stay strong.

Morning, day, night, there won’t be a time at home you won’t see his face. If you’re working, or taking classes remotely that’ll work out well for him. But if you have to leave the home for a prolonged period of time. . . might be a good time to get him a phone or some other less disruptive way for him to stay in contact with you.

He’s a wet cat. He needs to be in the same vicinity as you, even if he’s in a grumpy mood and don’t even think about touching him.

If you reach roommate level, you have him for life. This is very much a til-death-do-us-part situation, but mainly your death.

In this stage, it’s good to start focusing on making happy memories around the home. Help him associate being “here” in “this world” as a good thing, as much as being with you.

Living in that world increases the chances of it being destroyed as much as it being kept safe, and it all rests on you and your ability to befriend this man.

No pressure, right?

Make chocolate with him. Schedule movie nights with things you think he’ll like. Open windows when it’s nice outside and enjoy the weather together. Take him to see the stars. He’s still a Sans at heart.

Dates can be tricky in public (you can’t control how other people react) so try to keep it private as much as possible. Once he sees enough of how you handle it, he’ll try to mimic it in his own way.

You taking him on a picnic may result in him taking you to a world right before he destroys it.

Make you your world a home for him.

Be his home and he’ll always return to you.

As a roommate, aside from his tantrums, he’s. . . okay.

On the bright side you won’t have to worry about dirty dishes or things of that nature. He tidies up after himself decently well.

On the downside, you will have to worry about his dolls. Not all of them will be cute little knitted dolls.

Some of his dolls may ask your help to escape.

Don’t.

If you somehow endear yourself enough to this man that his emotions fester into romance, you’re in for a whirlwind of a life.

Him kidnapping you is just. . . it’s going to happen. He doesn’t have the emotional maturity to handle a romantic relationship where you aren’t in immediate reach / assurance.

Now it doesn’t necessarily have to be in the antivoid.

He likes you! He likes you SO much he’d be willing to show you through self-sacrifice.

Like he won’t imprison you in the antivoid, string you up like his dolls, if you REALLY, REALLY, beg ask him not to. He doesn’t want to see you upset.

How about a deserted world instead?

The kind where nothing, and no one can hurt you and you’re far, far, far, far, FAR away from the abominations?

Really, you don’t need anyone else but him so what more could you ask for? He’ll give you whatever you want. He has no problems taking from any world.

He may not understand all your silly requests. (You need more than chocolate to survive? Bathrooms? Doesn’t monster food disappear in your stomach?) But he is SUCH a good boyfriend he’ll comply.

IF you managed to make your home “homey” enough for him, he’ll be more inclined to let you return.

If you failed that. . . you’ll just have to try to be persistent and persuasive.

Just. . . don’t let yourself be “rescued” at this stage.

If he returns to find you gone, or oh no oh no oh no oh no with another man–?

Worlds are being destroyed.

Wage a war for the one you love?

Nah, not this man.

Destroy worlds and everything your loved one holds dear so they can only focus on you.

It’s okay.

Even if you come to hate him–even if you lose the spark in your eyes, the warmth of your laughter, the way you smile. . .

He can hang you up with his dolls.

He can stitch that smile onto your face.

And you can stay with him like that.

Forever.

. . .

But hey if you make yourself a home that is “homey” for him to keep you there, and reach the romance stage, you’ve now got yourself a husband.

He doesn’t really care about titles, or spectacles, so he’ll be fine if you want him to sign a certificate that names him your husband. He won’t care to do the wedding part–that’s just begging for someone to meddle–but yeah he’ll be your husband.

You’ve reached the domestic stage. By this point you already know how to handle his tantrums–right?--and can focus on a (mostly) peaceful day to day life. Living with you will be second nature, so getting him to contribute to smaller domestic things will also be easier.

He’ll help around where he can, as long as you ask for it / make him aware of where you need the help.

He wants you happy (within reason, don’t you dare try to leave him).

You will always have to make time for him. This is just a consistent truth across all stages of his relationship. If he wants to spend time with you, unless you have an “acceptable” reason not to, you have to comply.

It would be in your best interest to establish a schedule. He won’t keep track of time very well, but he’ll get a gist of Oh this is Y/N time out of habit. It’ll help if you build a routine around that, and then just naturally slip in “you” time. Maybe around the time his favorite soaps are on?

Spontaneity won’t be in your best interest long term with this man.

Even in a domestic life, he’ll still have his emotional outbursts but it’ll be easier to regulate them.

Especially with you; his balm & home.

Just don’t make him jealous. That’s an emotion that will always be volatile due to its intensity and rarity.

This was going to be a general Headcanons but then I refreshed myself on what canon Error is and uh. Here we are.

For @ima-roboto as thanks for her patience.

[blckbrrybasket]

4. “Yer Killin’ Me”

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

꒰Boot Worship꒱ - 1k

• dating, coming on readers face, semi-public sex, masturbation (m), praise

kinktober m.list

Privacy was scarce in the camp, hardly allowing for anyone to sleep with their partner, unless you were Sean and Karen of course. Most people tried to wait until they could rent a hotel room for the night or kept themselves quiet, not wanting the embarrassment of being teased the next morning.

Arthur had been unlucky, stuck with an open tent until you two started courting. With a new streak of luck, or really realisticness, you were able to get a more private tent. It made it easier to find a safe space in camp. Behind the coarse fabric Arthur was able to let his walls down, showing you the love he couldn’t show out in the open.

From kisses to hand holding to sleeping with each other, comfort was sought in your tent. Arthur had always looked forward to coming home to you all day, especially today. When hunting he had hardly responded to Charles when prompted questions, mumbling something that made little sense back. He was obviously preoccupied with something so Charles dropped it. He had no complaints about being silent while hunting.

Charles would have never guessed that what was preoccupying Arthur was how he was going to take you that night. Two hours in, Arthur had settled on what he wanted to do with you. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it only happened on rare occasions. Arthur had to be in a certain mood for it, but after Dutch barking orders at him all week he knew he needed it.

That’s how you ended up naked under your chemise, leaking atop his boot. Your folds were spread over the toe of his boot, clit peeking out as you held the hem of your chemise to your stomach. “Fuck…good girl,” Arthur drawled, pressing his boot up into you.

The mewl you rewarded him with made it harder for him to resist touching himself. “Quiet. Don’t wan’ta be caught now, do you?” Arthur slid his large palm to the swelling bulge in his pants. He curled his hand, grinding it into himself. “Come on, I know y’can do better than that.” At his words you tilted your hips, sliding forward on his boot, carefully staying quiet.

Shaky hands came up to grab onto his muscular calf. “Arthur…” He chuckled and looked down at you, unzipping his pants. “Yeah, darlin’?” Lifting his hips, Arthur shoved them halfway down his thighs, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his union suit. “That feel good?”

You nodded, rubbing your spread lips back and forth. Sliding back, your pussy parted up over the toe of his boot. He once again pressed his boot upwards, the toe of it pinned against your fluttering entrance. “Oh!” Arthur chuckled at your low squeak, opening the fabric of his union suit to pull out his fat cock.

He turned his hand over, tucking it under your chin. “Spit.” Obediently, your lips pursed as you spat into his hand. “Good girl.” Arthur brought it back to his erection, sliding the spit over the heated skin. He wrapped his hand around himself, drawing his foreskin back to tease his thumb under his tip.

You ground down, mouth falling open in a gasp as your hips moved in a circle. When he dropped his boot back down, you jostled forward, whining. “Arthur, please.” He chuckled darkly, “Get to work, honey.” You had no choice but to listen to him, grinding down with purpose to get yourself there.

Arthur pumped his hand over his dick, licking his lips as he closely watched you. Your joint panting mixed in the air, filling the tent, quiet enough that no one else could hear. The small lantern illuminated your morphed shadows onto the walls of it, rippling as a breeze brushed past. His hand sped up, the other hand guiding your head to his knee.

Your cheek squished against him, eyes looking up at him in awe while you humped his boot. Heat seeped through your gut, arousal shining his boots with each movement. “You look so handsome.” You moaned, eyes drifting to where he was fucking his hand. Clenching over his boot, your choked breath fanned over his bunched up jeans.

“Christ, darlin’.” Arthur groaned when you sped up, bouncing on his boot. Working along with you, he took the hint to jerk himself off faster, gut tensing. “There ya go.” He encouraged you, licking his chapped lips when you whimpered. Your thighs burned from having to straddle his boot for so long, but the fizzling in your abdomen kept you going.

You were close, so close. Arthur could tell with how your rhythm was thrown up, hips moving haphazardly. Your wetness was well worked into the leather of his boot, cunt puffy from how worked up you were. Hand slowing, Arthur grunted, “‘M close.”

“Please come, Arthur please.” He bit his lip, brows knitting together. “Where ya want it?” “My face. On my face,” you rushed out, whimpering as your hands fell to the ground beneath you. The extra support gave you enough purchase to get a better angle, leather dragging under you repeatedly. 

With his lips parted, Arthur resumed fucking his fist. No words could describe how he felt when he was able to come on your face. “Close your eyes,” he warned, holding off until your eyelashes met the apples of your cheeks. Full balls tightening, Arthur groaned under his breath as a surge of pleasure crashed over him.

Thick ropes of cum landed across your face, well into your hairline. After the first shot, each spurt weakened until he was panting, free hand gripping his knee, the pain keeping him quiet. Finally, his cum slowed, dripping down onto the grass. You moaned quietly at the sensation, thighs jerking when your cunt spasmed as you came. 

Arthur moved his hand from his knee a second later, petting the back of your head while you rode out your high. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart.” He wished he could see your eyes, thumb swiping any cum away from the area of your eyes. When your eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled.

“Did I do good?” You croaked, Arthur nodding. “Perfect.” He slid his hand around the shape of your face, pressing his thumb between your lips. Your tongue welcomed the cum coating the pad of his finger, swirling around it. “Perfect,” Arthur repeated.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @smileyourdestiny, @skelletonscloset, @slut4ddn, @amyispxnk, @adventures-of-impala

[bluemantics]

Hunk can see wholeness in broken things.

When he was a kid, his mother taught him to cook, and she’d take his hands in her soft, calloused ones and guide him to slice an onion or peel a carrot. Her deep, brown eyes watched every move he made with fondness as he desperately tried to replicate her seemingly perfect technique. He anxiously sat by the stove as she stirred all the ingredients in a big, metal pot. 

After they’d finished, Hunk remembered the anxiety that nestled in his chest, squeezing his heart while he waited for her to take the first bite. She’d dipped her spoon straight into the soup and lifted it gingerly to her lips, a whisper of breath curling over it that blew steam off it in spirals. 

When she tasted it, her eyes lit up, widening with joy that Hunk would carry with him to school and to the desert and to space and back home. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually cooked it alone or that his mom had to work the stove. Hunk had taken all these things and made them something new, something whole. “Wonderful job, my little chef.” She ruffled his hair. 

So, Hunk continued cooking. He found love and pride he could only communicate in food. Little labors of dicing tomatoes, mixing sesame and soy, slathering chicken in herbs and spices, it was all a language Hunk spoke fluently, a way for him to communicate when his tongue failed and his nerves tightened. 

Then, he grew up, and cooking wasn’t enough. It was an escape, but it wasn’t realistic. However, the Garrison was. His mama and mom argued a lot over what was right for him. Mom said he would be fine at home, but Mama disagreed, told her that they should foster the first sign of ambition Hunk was showing.

Hunk wasn’t sure if he’d call it ambition. All he knew was that being a chef hadn’t worked out for Mom, what with her late nights in their dimly lit kitchen, clutching letters she’d failed to answer. His moms had provided so much for him. Being a chef… probably wouldn’t enable him to return on any of that. 

Eventually, his Mama won, and Hunk was set for the Garrison. There, he learned a new language, of tools and tech and cogs. Just like cooking, he was shockingly good at creating something new from all the metal parts and circuit boards. Engineer, though not his first choice, fit him just as well as chef. Teachers fawned over his creations, and his new teammate, Lance McClain, raved about how “dope” and “radical” his projects were. 

Hunk loved his new teammates. Lance was hilarious, totally different from all the people he’d grown up around. He was unafraid to speak his mind and take action in a way that Hunk was envious of. If he’d get his act together in the simulators, Lance would probably have made fighter pilot. Pidge was cool, too, even if he didn’t speak much. 

So, Hunk continued building. He pieced together plans and projects by day and cooked for Lance and Pidge at night. He collected all the parts he needed to make a life for himself in this strange, militaristic place, despite never picturing himself even adjacent to a soldier.

Yeah. Ironic.

Then, Hunk found himself a soldier, fighting a war 9,983 years older than his lifespan. Soldier fit much worse than engineer or chef. He didn’t put anything together on the battlefield, didn’t understand the language of violence or bullets. Every cry of pain was muffled in his aching eardrums. Armor fit him poorly, feeling more like a cage than a defensive wall. Over and over, he looked around, searched for the pieces he could shape together to make warfare understandable, digestible. His teammates seemed to have no problems with it, making strategies and executing missions without doubt or fear. Hunk just had to think, he had to adapt, he had to puzzle, he had to plan, he had no choice, where did it start? Where did it end? What is waiting for him on the other side of this, when the puzzle’s been fixed and the team has— 

The team. That was it. They functioned like a group of individuals. If anything, Hunk knew people. He wasn’t Lance, all hyper-EQ and intense awareness, but he had his own thing: approachability. 

If they were going to be in space for an indefinite amount of time, Hunk would piece together a team.

So he cooked. He made dinners, a place where they were forced to spend time together and talk like normal teenagers. He fed Allura and Coran and Shiro comfort foods during late-night episodes of nightmares.

So he built. He tinkered with his lion, fixed her up while chatting with Pidge and Keith, lending an ear to their worries and their silences alike. 

And when he got tired, he leaned on Lance, who would smile knowingly and say, “Nice work, buddy.” 

Even if war would never become understandable, Hunk would make it quieter during the off-moments. He’d fix something else, with hands passed on from his mom, calloused and gentle.

[luckyofthelawnvariety]

I've finished Etho's s7 hermitcraft so guess who's back with a slightly updated/slightly consolidated list of things about ethoslab I have noticed! or just enjoy!

(the previous list)

I have no idea when he learned to noteblock. I don't know if he knows. he knows how to noteblock tho. he's really good at it.

on that note, did you know that there is not a single piece of non-noteblock music in etho's s7 after the first episode? there might not even be any in the first episode. every single timelapse or montage is set to noteblock music

(he sang along to parts of his paper planes noteblock cover too. he was going shopping. I was entirely too delighted)

(also, there is some like...sitcom music theme that I don't know what show it's from. it's bothering me that I don't know. what you need to know is that throughout his s7 etho uses said sitcom theme as the transition before Shenanigans With Fellow Hermits clips play. his life is a sitcom. yes it is the noteblock version.)

I think that etho desperately needs minigames for enrichment. if he's not playing one he's working on one. he needs them and he will let them completely consume his life

the etho decked out 1 runs are hilarious, partially because it's funny to see him play it and realize how absolutely insane decked out 2 is, and how much of a madlad tango is. etho is still the same menace with great luck and skills. I had forgotten about the hole to the void in the middle out decked out 1 tho, that was a fun reminder

etho could make a career out of translating classic type games into minecraft. he kind of has, but it's a pattern.

he also keeps coming up with new games that are minecraft only and is good at figuring out how to balance them well.

again, king of minigames. he will in fact analyze them as much as possible. he caught on to the pattern of impulse's whack a mole game in like...2 rounds? maybe 3? he's good at pattern recognition and will put it to good use no matter the minigame

etho, I cannot stress this enough, is a little shit and enjoys being such. free glass is obviously an iconic moment, but I had forgotten about him scamming scar out of diamonds for "information" about the resistance, or about sneak-e-e's business model (you can't tax what you can't find!), or about how he kept being extremely ridiculous with beef in regards to record shop payments...the list goes on

etho is also very competitive. I mentioned this in the last list, but man...he joins like every single competition he can. he wants to win. he's not like, a sore loser, but he likes to win, and he'll get a little upset if he doesn't.

etho and beef have clearly known each other a long time and ngl I miss their interactions a bit. let them bother each other a bit more please. I want to see them trying to kill each other in ridiculous ways again please. or doing minigames together. they're so silly.

kind of similar, but etho loves getting a rise out of people and it is the best thing ever actually. it's fun watching him use dirty tricks to beat bdubs to sleeping for a prize. it's perfect actually.

that being said, I still really like when etho is just on his own working on stuff too. s7 has a lot of moments where etho will go "I'm gonna use this block palette!" and I will think "bro that's ugly" and then he will make an extremely cohesive build that I want to live in out of it. I think a good way to describe it is that for example bdubs is really good at detailed builds with texture and not much color, and a very realistic twist to them. etho is not afraid to use color at all, and embraces how the colors can work together or contrast. it's fascinating to watch and I love it.

he is also a redstone genius. I feel I am starting to understand how some things with redstone work. could I design something myself? absolutely not but I could work from a tutorial and not feel completely lost on why I have to use a dispenser and not a dropper now.

I think s7 etho is really experimenting a lot with style and how he wants to do things. he does a few more elaborate intros, for example, that are very planned out, but he also does a lot of the classic "hello everybody this is etho and welcome back to hermitcraft!" it's fun and it works, but I honestly feel he might be more confident in some ways now in s10, which is nice to see.

(side note—I think etho has some trouble with tone sometimes, where he really wants to make sure everyone's having a good time, but also he really wants to tease people. this works well with like Beef, who he's known a while, but especially in people he's known less he's quick to catch on if they take what he's saying too seriously, and clarify that he is teasing. it's nice to see tbh, just the clarity even with his audience)

speaking of llamas, I had not realized how recent some really big updates were. bamboo and pandas were new at the start of s7. the nether update came like halfway through?? I was more in the casual build side of mcyt at the time but man...I didn't realize how crazy that is to think about.

just...the way that etho visualizes builds is great. not just like, leaving space for farms, but filling in the spaces with a lot of details that make sense but also work with the space to cover anything it needs to AND to connect with the rest of the base. the sightlines thing is something I see a lot of other builders using but etho really uses them a lot in the Monstrosity in order to keep it from being Too Much as you walk through.

really just...he wants to have fun, and he wants to learn, and he wants to experiment and figure things out. if he can mess with some friends when he does it, that's a great bonus, yknow?

man. what a guy.

[cassofnowhere]

Frank’s physical and emotional state in DD: Born Again

Occasionally I’ve seen people express confusion at Frank’s…general state in Born Again. He does seem unkept, unhappy, in a worse mood than usual and oddly detached from everything else.

The shock was apparently so big, people started theorizing SOMETHING must’ve happened to Frank. And I’m here wondering what people expected to find, exactly.

I mean, if you watched The Punisher season 2 you will know Frank embraced the vigilante life by the end of that season. You would also remember he ended up the show pretty much alone. He pushed Karen away in a very definitive manner, Curtis, if I remember correctly, was very done with his bullshit by that point and didn’t want any more contact with Frank, he sent Amy away to Florida and seemed like didn’t plan to meet her ever again. The only person he seems to be in contact with is Madani, but she was in the Middle East and he also shut down any relationship there when he refused her offer for a job at the CIA (because “he already has a job”).

So, what we are seeing in Born Again is Frank being The Punisher. It’s a guy who shut down every single relationship he ever had and it’s only focused on the mission 24/7. The only thing he does, day in and day out, is look for the next scumbag to kill, the next gang to gun down, the next mafia to disperse. He gets beaten up, goes home, stitches himself and does the same thing all over again the next day. He’s been doing this for years.

And I’m sure, at some point, he realized what he’s doing is pointless, because no matter how many criminals and bad people he puts to the ground, new ones take their place faster than he can kill them. So, all he has to hope for is to keep at it, until he eventually dies. Except he doesn’t die. Almost 10 years and he’s still at it, and not a single thing has changed. Fisk is freaking mayor of New York City, for gods sake.

What we are seeing is a man who has become hopeless and detached, because he has nothing to look for in his life, except death. So…..no shit he is moodier than usual.

I get that this is not a common arc for The Punisher in the comics (if it was ever portrayed), but I think it’s a very interesting thing to explore in the MCU version. I do think it’s in line with what the OG show might’ve explored if it ever got a third season.

Season 2 ended with Frank reaching the conclusion The Punisher was his destiny. There was no happy ending for him, his calling was to kill criminals no matter the cost. And that was actually a very tragic conclusion for Frank to reach, effectively shutting down any opportunity at recovery he could get. He didn’t find fulfillment living as Just Frank (A.K.A Pete Castiglione), so he would find it with The Punisher….except, spoiler alert: he doesn’t! He’s still as unhappy and miserable as he was before. Turns out, giving in to your worst impulses doesn’t improve your life.

I think the point of the mysterious pills we see him take in Born Again, is supposed to be a physical manifestation of Frank’s weariness. That there is a downside to living like The Punisher, and aside from the emotional isolation, he is physically weaker. And again, I know there’s a bunch of comics of an older Frank, and even though he is older, he is somehow as strong and agile as he was when he was younger, and while it’s a valid depiction of an older Frank, it’s probably not a realistic one. Like, the man doesn’t eat well, doesn’t sleep well, he gets punched, stabbed and shot at an alarming frequency and he doesn’t get any breaks. That’s not the lifestyle that creates a healthy and active 60yo. On the contrary, actually. Now, he might have chronic pain he needs to manage with medication, just to function. And I like that. After all, Frank is only human. To show him grappling with all the ways his body can fail him is very compelling storytelling in my opinion.

I mean, I don’t know what they are cooking with Frank, but if I’m right, I am very interested in what they might show in the future with him.

TL;DR: the reason Frank is….LIKE THAT in Born Again is not because of any singular traumatic event, it’s simply the downside of the life he chose as The Punisher. A lonely, violent life that finally is claiming his toll on him. So yeah, he is moody and detached and doesn’t care about much other than his next target.

[httyd-art-requests]

So the teaser for the live action How To Train Your Dragon film has dropped. Have you seen it? Any thoughts on it?

I just saw it, and BOY do I have some thoughts about it lmao

Live action remakes already annoy me for several reasons, and as much as I want to be excited for "new" HTTYD media, it really misses the mark for me

The movie doesn't look original to me. It's so obviously a remake of something else that it loses any personality it could otherwise have. If the original HTTYD movie had been a live action movie from the start, it would have looked nothing like this, because the creators would have tried to create something that stood out from other movies. This one just feels like a checklist being completed in front of me: "right so we'll have this scene, and then we'll have this scene, and the dragon does this, and the boy does this, and then this is the part the fans like so we're going to recreate it 1:1", but no real understanding of what made the original as beloved as it is.

This trailer just looks soulless to me, but I'm holding out hope that the other trailers will show us more and hopefully prove me wrong

Toothless's design is... fine I guess? They made his hind legs digitegrade for some reason, which just looks very jarring to me. Idk why they felt the need to change it, it's one of the details that made his design feel unique to me. Like dragons' legs are almost always depicted as dinosaur-like and digitegrade, and HTTYD having dragons that have plantigrade legs feels really cool. The wings are comically oversized and he lost a lot of his personality based on the scene recreations shown in the trailer (like the silly People Sit he does in the original, now he just sits like a dog lmao) but it really, really could have been worse.

I slowed it down to catch some of the other dragon species' designs and eeeeeehhhh... They're recognizable, I'll say that. They also lost a lot of the personality that the original models had, they look a lot more uniform in their proportions. I really don't see why making them look "realistic" has to mean that they look more boring, when we have so many animals irl that look fake and made up because of how absurd they look. They could have had more fun with it is what I'm saying

Casting Gerard Butler as Stoick feels like the only actually good decision, his voice as Stoick just can't be recreated. Hiccup's actor is... also fine I guess, no strong feelings whatsoever.

The thing that bothers me the most is the lighting. The original HTTYD movie paid special attention to making the lighting look as realistic and believable as possible. It's atmospheric and helps you get sucked into the world while you watch. "Subdued" is probably a good word to describe it. It very intentionally doesn't go overboard. The lighting in the trailer looks fake as hell. They could be using real actual lighting conditions on set and I still wouldn't believe it's real.

Overall, I have mixed feelings despite all the negative things I just listed. I'm sharing in the excitement of all the people who want to watch it, but I'm still disappointed that it, like, exists at all. No matter what this movie ends up looking like, I'm always going to prefer the original animated movies. I'm open to being proved wrong though, I really hope this movie is going to be better than anything we're imagining rn

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

[ashs-cardboard-box]

An Odd Consolation

~ Sebastian Solace/GN!Reader

~ (Physical) Hurt/(Reluctant) Comfort

~ Platonic

~ 2.3k words

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How long has it been since you’ve gotten a first-aid kit? Five floors? Ten? You were starting to lose track. After an encounter with what felt like Jesus Christ himself punishing you for being an Expendable, your head felt all fuzzy and distracting. Though, realistically, it was Eyefestation paired with a bad crossing from the Good People and a sprinkle of face burns from a steaming pipe. Not fun!

Large gashes paint your chest, just from the claws of the Z-96. The skin on your face felt tight as a result of your painful first degree burns. The worst part about this program was the pain. Sure, you can die and respawn which was cool..you guessed.. but getting mowed down by an angler variant? Or getting electrocuted? Or the puddles of void mass crammed inside the lockers? Torn to shreds by wall dwellers? It all hurt terribly. Only to be cursed to wake up again, with Sebastian right in your face, and do it all over again– Unless you wish to be blown up, of course.

You weren’t even collecting data anymore. Your, now torn, jumpsuit had long been dried since the last flooded path you managed to stumble upon, which further supports your theory that whatever wet warmth is sticking the fabric to your skin, is the blood from your wounds. Clutching your chest in a self-hug of sorts to prevent any more blood from spilling out, albeit unsuccessfully, you force yourself to keep going.

Every time you stop for too long to catch your breath, the intercom chimes overhead, with the same staff voice telling you – threatening you – that you need to move forward, lest you want to be detonated where you stand. So, you push forward.

One wobbly step after the other into door, after door, after flooded hallway, after door. Only stopping to hide in a locker, hide from turrets, or to dive as quickly as you possibly can into another room to hide from any angler that even remotely sounds like Pandemonium.

You were tempted to just give up and open up your vulnerabilities to the next entity that wanted your head on a spike. That was your best option after all. A bit more pain to finally make it all go away for a while? Before you wake up again, that is. A new start..sounded frustrating, but so damn enticing.

However, you’re pulled from your thoughts when a vent is pushed open on its own. The metal grate clatters loudly against the concrete floor right at your feet, followed by a hushed “over here!”. You’d completely forgotten about Sebastian in your misery. The angler-mutant-thing that always managed to find where you died, bring you back to life, and borderline insult you for your performance. You weren’t sure if he was always watching you through the security cameras or if he was getting reports from the other monsters somehow, but you couldn’t care at the moment.

Stealing a quick glance around the dark room, spotting a few Squiddles lingering in the shadows, you’re focused on the two doors in the room, both key-card locked. The first, the navi-path interface sparked, despite the green numbers telling you “027”. You can already guess that Z-96 is behind it and Painter has infected the interface. The second door reads “049”, which makes much more sense to your pain-addled brain. You vaguely remember Sebastian giving a rough estimate to where his shop is located. Somewhere around fifty?

Dropping down onto your knees a bit too roughly, causing blunt pain to your kneecaps – hardly protected by the flimsy knee pads Urbanshade provided – you steal a cautious glance behind you for wall dwellers before crawling towards the vent. One arm supports most of the weight of your front half, as the other cradles your chest wounds. You feel like you can cry out of relief at the flicker of Sebastian’s lure, causing the room to illuminate.

“Welcome back, frien- eugh..” He starts. Comforting, you think sarcastically with a subtle roll of your eyes. Offering him a tightlipped smile as you stand up, gritting your teeth from the strain of your wounds as your muscles struggle to keep you upright. “What..happened to you?” Sebastian inquires, slightly judgemental, with a tilt of his head. His three eyes follow your each and every move. Watching as you silently shuffle across the small space, right towards his tail. Fully locked onto the medkit strapped to the appendage.

Stuffing your hand into the deep pockets of your jumpsuit and pulling out what little amount of data you have. A handful of USB sticks and some soggy files… equivalent to only ninety bucks. God damn it. Your lack of proper data hunting had come to bite you in the ass. With a sigh, you opt to just buy a battery with what little options you actually have. Your flashlight was running a bit low anyways.

Haphazardly tossing a few folders and USB sticks on the floor for Sebastian to pick up, you trudge up to the desk directly to the right of Sebastian. Several DNA casings rest atop it, illuminated by a small lamp, Several different colors for, what you can imagine are, all sorts of different species. The large document that you know belongs to Sebastian practically taunts you to read it, but you shift your gaze back to the batteries. Reaching forward to grab one with a bloodied hand, only to pause when a large, pointed claw pokes you in the shoulder nearly pushing you over. “Are you not gonna fix that?” Sebastian prompts as he tugs his four-clawed hand away from you, clasping it back over his left, watching silently as you fumble, catching yourself on the desk. He tuts at the bloody print left behind as you set your palms flat onto the dull-white surface. “Don’t have enough data..” You grumble tersely, shifting your feet better underneath yourself as your knees threaten to buckle. Snatching the battery off of the corner of the desk, you slip your hand into your pocket and fish out your flashlight. Flipping it over and trying to twist the bottom of it off, struggling only slightly with slippery hands but you manage, sliding the battery into its compartment and twisting the small cap back on. Sebastian is silent, for some reason. Usually, there was some smart ass comment about how he doesn’t give credit or insulting your lack of funds…but there’s nothing. 

His eyes feel like they’re piercing into your soul as he stares down at you. You don’t pay attention to him. He’ll be there..just like always. Tucking your flashlight away, you grab the blue keycard off of the desk and turn back towards the vent with intent to leave Sebastian’s shop. 

That was until you feel two large claws on your upper back as Sebastian grabs ahold of the slack of your torn jumpsuit. Picking you up by the fabric with a humiliating ease, as if you were a kitten being held up by its scruff.

“How stupid are you?” He scolds as he sets you down on his tail. Your boots almost slip against his scales, unused to the uneven surface beneath you, but Sebastian, with an annoyed sigh, grabs you as gently as he can muster, setting you on the ground again inside the inner curve of his tail to prevent your…idiotic…self from dying over some dumb mistake.

“It’s the least you could do..apart from not dying, that is.” Sebastian mutters under his breath, chuckling at his own remark. Using his two left arms, he unfastens the first-aid kit from the straps around his tail, holding it in place. It’s too damn small in his claws, so he hands it off to you. Setting it, rather roughly, in your arms.

Stunned, you hesitate. What was he playing at? He would never give you free stuff. In fact, he would probably shoot you if you even asked. Staring down at the medical kit, jaw slightly agape. Sebastian huffs, plucking the kit from your hands again and flicking off the top with his...thumb? “You idiot…” He grumbles, dumping the contents onto his large palm, handing it down to you. The plastic lid and container tossed aside uselessly. A thick roll of gauze, bandages, skin tape, epinephrine, burn cream, antiseptic wipes..the usual insides. You raise your gaze up to meet Sebastian’s own, much more impatient one. Slowly reaching out and taking the gauze into your hands, grabbing a hold of the loose end and strapping it to your side, pinching it down beneath your fingers to your ribs. Pulling the roll back around your back, switching hands to get the other side, before completely around your chest. It fucking stings..bad. You can feel your blood trying to soak through the fibrous material, subsequently sticking it to your wound. But, you know it’s for the best. Trying to avoid Sebastian’s critical eye as you work, having to pause for a moment due to an ache in your bicep muscles from the repetitive motion. “Why are you helping me?” You question warily. Your voice causes Sebastian’s ear fins to flick every so slightly. Shrugging noncommittally, he sets down the extra materials on his tail in front of you, leaving it up for grabs as you need it.

“You needed it, didn’t you?” Sebastian scrutinized, inspecting the ring on his third hand, so he’s not creepily watching you bandage yourself. “That’s… not what I asked.” You huff, finally getting your chest tissue and ribs covered up. Looking up at Sebastian as he skims the small shop, like he hadn’t seen it before. Not-so-subtly moving his left hand down, using his claw to cut off the spare gauze attached to the roll, allowing you the proper amount you need.

“I know.” He states. “And I don’t care.” You hum suspiciously, but don’t push it. He was helping you out for free, why would you complain? Pinning down the loose gauze strand to your side once again, you use your free hand to finagle the edge of the skin tape, yanking it unceremoniously to grab a bit more slack you can actually use. Silently lifting it up by the edge, letting the roll freely dangle, wordlessly asking Sebastian to cut it as well.

Surprisingly, he complies. Swiping a claw against the tape, freeing it from the roll, causing it to hit the floor at your feet. Awkwardly adjusting the strap to prevent it from sticking to itself, you can pin down your gauze.

“Sit.” Sebastian demands, gingerly tugging on the back of your jumpsuit, causing you to lose balance and tumble backwards, landing right on your ass. It hurts a bit, but the pain quickly subsides. Your back pressed up against his firm tail, tilting your head back to be able to stare up at him. “What?” you question, only to be met with silence. He ignores you completely, but he doesn’t let you get up. Tucking his third hand up underneath your chin, keeping your head tilted up towards him. The coldness of his ring against your skin causes it to prickle with goosebumps, but you don’t mind much. Peering down at your half-burned face, his claw accidentally digs into a blister, causing you to hiss in pain. You didn’t really plan to do anything about the burn, just wanting your bleeding to stop, but Sebastian had other plans. “Sit.” He repeats firmly, as if you were going to get up and scurry off. His second left hand grabs ahold of the small tube of burn cream, puncturing it with ease before spreading a small amount on the length of his claw between the first knuckle and the second. Using the blunt side to massage the cream into your face, all while holding your jaw like an uncooperative pet.

Sitting still, you allow Sebastian to cover your burns. It’s an action neither of you are particularly used to, but neither try to jerk away from the other. With a sigh, you relax against him, closing your eyes. His skin isn’t particularly soft, feeling more like the grit of a cat’s tongue, but he seems to take more caution around it. Sebastian’s not exactly warm either, but he’s comfortable, at least. “Why’re you helpin’ me..?” You mumble, pulling your knees up to your chest to get a bit more cozy against the floor. You can feel your lower back tingling slightly as it begins to go numb, but shifting more will only cause more pain. “Because you lack the self-preservation skills to do it yourself.” Sebastian grunts, more focused on coating your face in petroleum jelly rather than his responses. Removing his hand from your face and draping it over you, making you feel incredibly small. His ear fins fluttering at the sound of an angler screeching as it rushes down the hall, searching for you. You hum monotonously in acknowledgement, subconsciously tensing at the sound, despite knowing it wouldn’t be able to reach you through the vent. “You’re not falling asleep on me. You still have things to do.” He states firmly, but he makes no actual effort to move you away from him. Pleased with the coverage on your face, Sebastian finally pulls his hand away, wiping the remaining residue on your jumpsuit. “‘m not.” You agree, but you know you’re probably lying.

You never really realize how exhausted you are until you’re on the verge of tears from pain alone and forced to keep moving. Kept on edge, stressed to the end of your wits. You knew you should get going. This was weird. Not to mention, Sebastian was usually an asshole..but you don’t move. Readjusting yourself underneath his large hand, acting as a blanket, you curl up into the curve of his tail, resting your head against it.

“Don’t let me get eaten..” You slur in your exhaustion, earning a small hum from Sebastian, not exactly giving you any sort of indication if he would or wouldn’t. Instead, he rests his thumb atop your head, moving it ever-so-slightly back and forth over your hair in a “petting” motion. He would probably charge you double next run, but as you began to fall asleep on him, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least you weren’t dead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi gang I'm back X3 (he says with the intention to disappear for another decade)

Random fic drop !! I have like. 82 rdr fics open rn </3 procrastination is my best friend

[fanfic-obsessed]

Rebellion of the bats

Ok, here’s another one that’s going to get a little wacky. As a reminder never look for canon here, for I do not know her. 

We are going to start today's madness with some build up before the main event. It is important to me that you understand that in this one, Tim Drake does not take after Bruce Wayne. Tim Drake takes after Alfred (feral planners, whose truest love and calling is to care for their loved ones, coated in a veneer of respectability). In fact it is Alfred who teaches Bruce how to prepare for any eventuality. 

And the Tim of this universe is prepared for any eventuality. Including having a plan for ‘Jason has come back from the dead, has been lied to, appears to hate the family, and is trying to attack me for taking Robin’.  So Jason attacks Titan’s Tower and is very surprised to find that, instead of beating up Robin, he finds himself being dragged back to that Manor by an excited Tim Drake (No matter how long or short after the fact, Jason is still not sure how they got from Jason wanting to beat up a teen to being convinced to come home). 

Jason, Dick, and Bruce all bond over the abrupt realization that Alfred and Tim are absolutely feral and that if either decided to go rogue the universe was screwed.  They also realize that it is part of their Vigilante assigned duty to keep Both Tim and Alfred from needing to take over the world.

This helps stabilize the relationships among the Batfam, this common goal.  So by the time Damian arrives, their relationships are much stronger. Bruce, Dick, Steph, Cass, and Jason each try to talk Damian out of his assassination attempts (more for Damian’s health than Tims). Tim, because Damian is now his brother and is 10 years old, allows Damian two assaination attempts without consequence. Damian’s third, and final,  attempt ended with a finger broken on Damian’s non-dominant hand…and no proof that Tim caused it. 

Because of this stronger, more stable relationship Tim was actually able to pass Robin on to Damian before the Darksied happened. Tim took up Red Robin with Jason’s approval. 

Darksied sends Bruce on his bounce through time. There are still rumblings of what could become a war for the cowl (including Cass, this time because grief can do weird things to people and I think she should get to throw her hand into the ring), but instead Tim finds the clues Bruce had been leaving. And this is where the biggest departure comes. 

Because all of the Bats are there, and they believe Tim. They have no reason not to (I will get to that in just a minute). In fact, they all treat this revelation as a relief and begin to work out a schedule for keeping up the Batman pretense until Bruce can be retrieved. 

Dick as Batman goes to the Justice League (during a JL meeting) with the news that Bruce is lost in time, and they need substantial Justice League resources (and realistically it would need to be substantial and/or unique resources, or Tim would have used WE industries or his own resources) to retrieve him. And look, Dick looked at none of Tim’s evidence so when asked how the Bats know, Dick as Batman answers immediately with ‘Oh, Red Robin said’. 

The other members of the Justice League glanced at each other. It is Diana that very gently brings up that Wonder Girl had told her that Red Robin had been very intent on cloning Superboy, trying to avoid outright saying that it seemed like Tim might have lost touch with reality in his grief. Everyone very kindly ignored Superman’s flinch at the mention of both his dead mentee and cloning. 

The Justice League gets to watch as Dick misses the point so completely that they can practically see it over the pointy ears of his cowl.  He actually perks up and goes ‘Oh yeah, he mentioned having Ivy check over his methodology for that. She said it looked good but her specialty is plant genetics’. Like that is not an objectively insane thing to say. 

From Dicks, and in fact most if not all people who spend enough time in Gotham, perspective Tim was not insane for his attempts to clone Conner. He had a plan to mitigate harm for innocents (potentially viable clones who were not Conner), was not attacking/involving other people, had another affiliated expert look at his work before he pushed the big red button, and he even stopped when it was pointed out that it would have been against Conner wishes. To a Gothamite that means Tim is practically reasonable in his 99 attempts to clone Conner. 

The Justice League can only conclude, after some carefully phrased questions, that the Batfam have unfortunately lost touch with reality due to grief, understandable grief but also very out of touch. Dick does not realize this is what is being thought, as he is just so relieved that they are on track to get Bruce back that he does not hear the incredulity in the questions, until a majority vote rejects the use of JL resources for the purpose of searching for the former Batman in time (it should be noted that The Flash-Barry- and Superman both voted to try. Diana abstained).  

We are going with the idea that it is more than just massive resources or expertise that the JL would provide, but some resource, item, or device, that is unique to the Justice League that cannot be procured by any individual member. 

So Dick has to go back to 3 family members (Jason, Cass, Damian) who have all had significant exposure to Lazarus water, which is known for emotional outburst overriding common sense, Steph the daughter of a supervillain (Arthur Brown may have been a d rate supervillain, he was still a supervillain), Barbara the all knowing Oracle (whose morals have adjusted to working with former Rogues) and her cadre of Birds of Prey, and possibly the 2 most frightening people on the planet (Tim and Alfred) with the news that the JL will not help them. This is also Dick, whose anger issues and need for revenge built Robin. 

The only restriction that Dick manages to get them all to agree on is that they will not make trouble for Superman, Flash, or Wonder Woman (Jason throwing his own support in no trouble for Diana). Then, with full and loving knowledge of what he was doing, Dick set them all loose upon the world (making it clear to the JL that Bruce is the only one who could reign them in). 

It takes six weeks before the decision to help find Bruce and retrieve him from the timestream is approved. In that time:

Cass and Steph become the rulers of a small country, ruling with an iron fist but enough morals that most of the populace loved them. 

Jason, with the Outlaws, managed to take out the League of Assassins (and incidentally managed to humiliate not one but three different Green Lanterns, mostly by accident). 

Damian met, became offended by, and dismantled a faux government organization in the midwest in possibly the most attention attacking way he could. 

Oracle wrote and released a highly tailored virus that released random ‘scandalous but not overall dangerous’ secrets on a schedule for every politician in the world. Her Birds of Prey kept Gotham running, along with Batman!Dick. At some point during this time the Joker ended up dead, but no one is admitting to who did.

Tim and Alfred did indeed become a major world power within the first three weeks. It wasn’t until week four that they gained nuclear power status, but quickly had a seat offered to them at the UN. They had just started considering if they should be expanding into the reaches of space when the JL capitulated. 

Bruce is brought back into a world where his kids are more feared than he is.

[leafsbabe]

Travis Kelce - private show (SMUT)

2k, there is a butt plug in this in case you don't like that

He loved his team, he truly did, but Travis was also very glad when their post-training meeting was over and he could dip. None of his teammates tried to stop him as he all but ran out of the room, something he was grateful for. In the past it had been a given that he would walk out with some of the other men, talking, joking, but nowadays that had become a rare sight. He was always in a rush to get back to his room, back to the closest thing he had ever come to an addiction.

Away games hadn't been the same ever since he had stumbled across that fateful link.

By some lucky coincidence the facilities for the visiting team in the field they’d be playing tomorrow were absolute ass so the chiefs had rented out one of the hotel meeting rooms for their review. Meaning all Travis had to do to get back to his room was hop onto an elevator. After that he was free to lock himself in his room until it was time for dinner.

The elevator crawled up to his floor at a snail's pace but he stopped himself from impatiently rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet. When it finally came to a stop he started to squeeze out of the elevator before the doors had fully opened but he didn’t even care how it looked, he was already late and he didn’t want to miss any more.

The door to his room slammed shut behind him as he stormed in, jumping onto the bed with enough energy that realistically it should have broken but by some miracle stayed intact as he opened his carefully changed laptop while attempting to toe off his shoes.

The website didn’t automatically open once he clicked on his browser but he had been visiting it religiously to the point that it autofilled after a single letter. His pants started to feel too tight before the site had even finished loading and Travis couldn’t help but groan at the realisation that he fucking pavloved himself into getting a semi at the mere thought of you.

The stream had already started but hopefully he didn’t miss much. A familiar background greeted him before his eyes focused in on you. Splayed across the bed you’re a sight for sore eyes, hair messed up just enough to let him know you’d played with it before he logged on, body clad in next to nothing. A new, expensive next to nothing. Good to know all of the money he sent you got put to good use. 

He waited for you to greet him like you usually did, surely you must have noticed him joining your stream, he was your biggest fan after all, but when you didn’t he sent you a message over private chat. Expensive, yes, but he didn’t need people knowing his dirty little secrets.

Finally you acknowledged him. 

“Hi bigyeti, nice of you to join again.” It seemed like a standard greeting but he knew by your tone that you were annoyed at him for being late again. Brat. Travis watched you slide a hand over your bare skin until it reached the lace covering your chest. But instead of teasing one of your hard nipples through the material or even taking it off to show the irresistible swell of your chest you just ran your fingers over the seam at the edge of your bra. “As much as I think this set is cute, this will probably be the last time you’ll see me in it. It’s not really comfortable and I can barely get it closed by myself.”

You were probably hoping for messages offering to help you with that but Travis had been watching long enough to read between the lines. You were going to offer up the set but beat you to it. His simple message didn't get a written reply but he noticed you look off screen before smiling. “You know the price bigyeti.”

You didn’t take it off though, just changed positions until you were kneeling on the bed. It was only then that Travis noticed the selection of toys laid out in front of you.

“What do you think,” you picked up one of them, dark purple and intriguing, but not his favorite of the spread. “Should we run a poll or let the highest bidder decide?”

He sent you a rack before you even had time to decide, after which he finally rid himself of his sweats and underwear.

“You know which one.” Your sweet voice read his message in the chat, laughing as you held up the one you knew he wanted. Pale pink with ridges that could get you off every time, filling you up perfectly before the vibrations took you out. The first time he had watched you use it you had squirted and he had been hooked ever since.

“Should I be concerned big? You seem to like this little guy more than me.” You pouted at the camera, bringing the vibe up and tapping it against your bottom lip. 

Travis groaned before typing again. Hopefully this would be a one handed operation soon.

“You know you’re my favorite. Aww that’s so sweet of you yeti. Want to know a secret?” He watched you lean forward, holding your chest into the camera with practiced ease. “You’re my favorite too.”

Travis slowly stroked himself as you bit your lip, reaching behind you and finally freeing yourself from the lace. You had been truthful about how ill fitting it was, his eyes automatically drawn to the red indents on the side of your boobs. He fantasized about getting his mouth on them, of soothing your flesh with his tongue.

You didn’t try to act sexy as you balled up the bra and threw it off-cam, something he came to enjoy. You were this temptress, bane of his bank account and object of his desire, but you were also human.

As he saw you kneeling there Travis finally gave in and reached for his lube, because he was in his thirties now and using lotion to jack off felt awfully juvenile. He watched you run your hands over your body, just palming himself to the view of you playing with your nipples.

“We’re going to try something new today.”

The tone of your voice had him shifting, sitting up straighter and paying more attention. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what something new meant. You got rid of the last remaining hint of nothing hiding your skin before turning around into the most perfect reverse cowgirl POV he knew and there it was. Nestled between your cheeks laid a small plug with a deep red gem at the end that sparkled in the lights you used during your shows. A hot shudder ran through him as the grip he had on himself tightened.

“You know what to do if you like it.” You smiled at the cam over your shoulder before turning back around.

Travis debated between finally touching himself properly and sending you another donation when you positioned the toy he picked and he relented. He’d just send you another tip later. He was slow with his movements, teasing himself as you sank down on the toy. You stopped halfway, adjusting to the stretch, but Travis just continued to stroke his dick.

You were noisy, he liked that about the streams. You weren’t holding back but it also didn’t feel like you were putting on a show. You were simply vocal in bed and he loved it.

Treavis continued to work himself as he watched you ride the toy, torn between closing his eyes and imagining it was you that had a hand wrapped around his dick or even riding it and wanting to watch you take your pleasure with the toy on stream. He watched you move, the way you stretched around the toy with every rise and fall. It was mesmerizing, the shimmer of that salacious gem catching his eye only for his focus to be drawn away by the flex of your thick thighs, or the dimples on your lower back, or those sweet filthy moans that kept on leaving your mouth. He felt drunk on you, drunk on the fire running through him.

There was no rhythm to the way Travis was stroking his cock as he watched you, all pretense of following your movements abandoned long ago. He felt his orgasm approaching, considering for a moment whether he should try and draw it out, to wait for you and come together, before giving that idea up and quickening his pace. He came to the sound of your moans, all over his fist and with his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Travis let himself float only until the next moan tore his attention back to the screen in front of him. You were barely riding the toy at this point, grinding more than anything. Even with his muddled mind it was clear that you were on the brink yourself.

When you finally tipped over it was with a shout. Your legs shook, more violently than he had ever seen from you before, while your body contracted around the sex toys filling you up. He palmed his softening cock as he watched you fall apart, too spent to try getting another orgasm out of it but still wired enough to draw out that afterglow for just a little while longer. 

He watched as your orgasm came to an end, the shaking in your thighs never quite stopping even though the vibrations of your toy did. You removed the pink vibrator but that bejeweled plug stayed in place as you slowly turned around and sat in full view of the cam, leaning back on your hands and smiling. You were still breathing heavily but it only drew attention to your tits and Travis found himself reaching for his phone before he realized that his hand was covered in his cum and used his other one instead. He wasn’t good at typing with his nondominant hand but another tip found itself being sent your way soon enough anyway.

“That was fun.” You said, breathless but still smiling. No reaction to his message if you had even seen it. “We should do this again sometime.”

Travis got another long look at your body as you leaned forward to shut off the cam and then he was alone in his hotel room again.

Shutting his laptop before he got up, Travis went to wash his hands and clean up a bit of the mess around his dick. He would shower soon but there was something he had to take care of before that. His phone was still laid on the bed, even though he had to search through the sheets to find it.

Travis pulled up that all too familiar contact and pressed video call. You answered almost immediately, makeup still on your face but with your hair pulled back and a shirt thrown over your body.

“Was that good?” You asked as soon as the call connected. He could see you bite your lip, nervously, and he hated being so far away from you even more.

“You were perfect.” He answered, truthfully. “So hot, baby. Almost makes me want to set you up a real camming account just to show you off.”

The program you two had now was little more than a private video chat but Travis had tried to set it up nicely for you. It had involved a lot of awkward questions to one of the New Height techies but the chat worked amazing for your little cam show and your audience of one.

You just laughed at his antics. “No you wouldn’t.”

“No I wouldn’t.” He relented. “I don’t like to share, even if you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

You laughed again. “All yours.” You confirmed before continuing, teasing him with an account of the new things you had brought for the two of you to try. Fuck. He couldn’t wait to come home.

[silentsneezes]

my time and energy to write sneezefics has unfortunately hit a bit of a brick wall with classes starting back up after break, but i promise i'll get to people's asks eventually!

until then, here's some sick j/ayce in a college professor au. it'll eventually be a j/ayvik fic once i get around to writing the second part, but this is just the intro!

with that said, here's 3k of j/ayce being a stubborn miserable mess

Sitting in his office, Jayce keeps a close eye on the time, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the worn edge of his desk. It’s half past noon, and his lecture on thermodynamics in engineering is scheduled to start at one. His desk is unusually cluttered—notes, assignments to grade, and the lecture slides he had fine-tuned just this morning strewn messily across its surface. Realistically, he should spend the next hour polishing his lecture, but he can’t quite sum up the energy or motivation to do so. 

Instead, he glances out the window, noticing the overcast sky that stifles the usually bright campus in a gray fog. A dull exhaustion weighs down on Jayce, settling in his limbs and aching through his muscles. His movements are sluggish, slower than usual and tinged with slight incoordination. Every few minutes, he finds himself rubbing his temples, trying to ward off the intermittent headache that’s been bothering him all day. 

He hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly when it started—maybe last night, or the day before—but it had crept up on him slowly, gnawing at the edges of his concentration: the constant, low ache in his temples, the tightness in his neck, the occasional dizziness. It wasn’t enough to keep him in bed, but it was enough to make everything feel like it required more effort than usual.

Jayce watches as the campus pathways are dotted with students rushing to their next class, heads down against the chill. The clock on the wall ticks forward, 12:35 now, a steady reminder that Jayce needs to get shit together. His usual room is prepared, of course, Room 112, the lecture hall he’d used for years now, with its high ceilings and neatly organized rows of desks. He’s grown accustomed to its elegant appearance, finding comfort in the fact that it was his room from the hours of 1:00 to 3:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

It’s only a short walk to the lecture hall, typically taking him 10 minutes at a leisurely pace, but he prefers to leave himself a cushion of time. Time to make sure the projector worked, to test the microphone, maybe even to grab a coffee if he was feeling particularly ambitious. That last part had become a bit of a ritual over the years. There was something calming about the routine of it all—the quiet before the classroom filled, the air of anticipation as students trickled in.

Arguably, his favorite part of his routine is stopping by Viktor’s office after his lectures. He often brings his partner food, knowing how frequently Viktor forgets to nourish his body throughout the day. The two of them typically exchange notes on the lectures, complain about certain bothersome students, and then work until they’re ready to go home. 

Jayce is torn from his rumination as his phone pings, glancing down and immediately recognizing the subject line of an email: URGENT – New Lecture Hall Assigned. With a sense of frustration swelling in his chest, he opens the email, skimming over the professional pleasantries to a line that reads, “There are currently electrical difficulties in Room 112. Your Thermodynamics in Engineering Lecture has been moved to Room 215 until further notice.”

Jayce takes a steadying breath, the throbbing in his temples making this slight change in plans feel like the end of the world. After taking a moment to bask in his frustration, Jayce registers that Room 215 is on the opposite side of campus, at least a 20 minute walk away at a brisk pace. He checks his watch, his stomach dropping as he registers the time: 12:39. 

He scrambles to collect his lecture notes, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag and exiting his office in a rush. Unfortunately, he only remembers the travel pack of tissues he’d left on his desk five minutes into his walk. He considers turning back for them, the steady dripping of his nose from the cold threatening to spill over his upper lip, but he doesn’t have the time. Instead, he berates his septum with a sleeve, grateful that the smear of moisture isn’t visible on the cuffs of his jacket. 

Despite the aching exhaustion throughout his body, he manages to make it across campus within a reasonable time. He swipes his keycard and enters the ancient building, taking a moment to appreciate the wave of warmth that greets him. 

As Jayce begins making his way through the labyrinth of corridors, he’s forced to sniffle every few seconds, the change in temperature only worsening his runny nose. He silently chastises himself for not having remembered the tissues, hoping in vain that Room 215  might have a tissue box stored somewhere. Realistically, he knows it wont. Room 215 is just a temporary lecture hall, used when the main buildings on campus have operational difficulties. 

As he walks, he double-checks the email confirming the switch, his brow furrowing in frustration once again. Of course, of all the days for this to happen, it had to be when Jayce felt like utter shit. Any other day, it would’ve offered him a pleasant walk across campus and a topic of conversation to bring up with Viktor when he yaps about his day. 

The further Jayce walks, the more he’s reminded of the building’s age, noting the cold patches in the hallways where the installation fails to maintain its heat. He keeps his coat held tightly around his broad frame, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. 

‘Damnit, not now’ 

With a particularly wet sniffle, Jayce’s sinuses begin buzzing. He recognizes the telltale itch, not enough to inspire a sneeze, but enough to make him berate his nose with a knuckle. The touch only worsens the itch, causing the buzzing to move up to the tip of his nose and flare his nostrils. His eyebrows knit together, his mouth falling slightly agape as a hitch slips through his lips, “hh-”

The singular hitch is enough to change the unpleasant buzzing to a full on burning sensation, and it’s quickly follow with a second, more urgent “hhHH-”

Jayce pauses in the middle of the hallway, grateful that no one seems to be around to witness his struggle. His elbow is bent over his nose, his eyes lidded and teary as his breath continues to catch in his throat.

“hhhhH’uh…hhih,” after a few seconds, Jayce moves to paw at his nose, desperate to either trigger a sneeze or relieve the itch. Unsurprisingly, Jayce’s nose decides on the former. He sucks in a final urgent breath, “hhhHHH-” before pitching forwards, his knee jerking up with the force of the expulsion, “hhHHRSSZZXCHH’uHh!”

Caught against his palm, the sneeze casts a thick spray across Jayce’s skin. He cringes at the clear sheen, sniffling desperately as the congestion in his nose starts slipping over his upper lip. He wipes the back of his hand against his septum, collecting a clear string of mess and hurriedly wiping it on his jacket. Yes, it’s gross, but without a tissue or handkerchief in sight, he doesn’t have much of a choice. 

With a defeated sigh, Jayce continues down the hall, the itch still tickling through his nose. He shouldn’t be surprised, really, It’s rare that he only sneezes once, especially when he’s sick. Still, he’d been hoping his nose would give him some relief after the expulsion. 

After what feels like years, Jayce reaches the door to Room 215. It stands slightly ajar, inviting him in. The moment he pushes the door open, he’s hit with a heavy wave of dust, so thick it coats his already irritated throat. His breath catches, the air too thick to take in without coughing. He sucks in a desperate breath in preparation before a harsh, chest rattling cough erupts from his chest, his body jerking forwards with the force of it. After a minute of painful sputtering, the fit dies down and Jayce registers the raw, burning sensation of his throat, feeling as if dust is settling deeper inside with every stuttered breath. 

“Great,” Jayce mumbles to himself, wincing as he attempts to clear his throat, which does nothing but worsen the watering of his eyes. He steps further inside the room, flicking on a lightswitch and glancing around. It’s evident that the college has left this room in slight disrepair since its last use. The desks are disorganized, the lights flickering every few seconds, as if teasing his already aching head. 

"This is going to be a mess.” Jayce mutters to himself, running a hand through his hair and hoping he doesn’t look as terrible as he feels– though he doubts that's true. He checks the clock on the wall, surprised to see that it’s still functioning. It’s nearly time for his lecture to start. 

‘At least the students haven’t arrived yet,’ he thinks, clearing his throat again as he feels phlegm sitting in its base. As he sets up his laptop on the podium, he feels the itch in his nose begin again. It teases along the innermost walls of his nose, causing the appendage to twitch. Before he can do as much as sniffle, his breath catches in a vocal hitch.

“hhHH-,” for better or for worse, this sneeze doesn’t tease him, coming out a second later and echoing through the room, “hHHGDSSXHCHew’hh!” Entirely uncovered, the sneeze mists the air in front of him, made visible by the overhead lights. 

Without warning, a second sneeze follows, though he manages to catch this one in the crook of his elbow, “hhhHMPDDSXCHHh’ewh!” 

Jayce snuffles wetly. He can feel the mess caught between his elbow and his nose, knowing the second expulsion was much more productive than the first. He takes a moment to clean himself up, though it’s more easily said than done without any tissues. He wipes his nose against his sleeve, hoping that students won’t be able to see the damp spots splotched along his jacket from their seats. 

He can hear the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching down the hall, feeling a pit form in his stomach as he realizes there’s no turning back now. He’s going to have to give a two hour lecture while fighting back a sneezing fit and feeling dead on his feet… What could possibly go wrong?

Jayce busies himself with his notes as students begin filtering into the hall, greeting him upon entry. Usually, he’d have a chipper response; he’s always loved getting to know his students. Today, he settles for a tired smile and a wave, deciding not to use his already strained voice more than he has to. 

Against all odds, Jayce manages to make it through the first half hour relatively smoothly. He has to pause often to clear his throat or cough into his elbow, but the students seem to blame it on the dust coating the room’s furniture and floor. 

Of course, Jayce can’t catch a break forever. As he begins the portion of his lecture on thermodynamic cycles, he feels a slight buzzing settle in the base of his sinuses. Between sentences, he attempts to sniffle quietly away from the mic, occasionally rubbing his nose. 

Jayce quickly realizes that this isn’t a sustainable solution, the touch only reddening his nostrils and causing them to flare. Still, he continues. He can’t just stop teaching in the middle of a lecture, not while he has over 40 students expecting a two hour class. 

“As we know, thermodynamic cycles are a series of processes that- hh- return a system to its initial state,” Jayce forces himself to continue speaking even as his breath begins to hitch, glancing down at his notes as his brain stalls, “these processes typically involve the transfer of heat and w-hHH’eh- snDf- work between the systehhhm and- Excuse me-”

Jayce turns around as his chest swells with a gasp, pivoting into his elbow as his back is turned to the class, “hhHHDDSSXHCHHew!” He stays bent over for a moment, his breath hitching again, “hhhh’uhH- HrRSCDXCHHHew’hh!” 

Jayce mops up his nose with his sleeve, blushing as a chorus of “bless yous” sound from the students. With a final wet sniffle, he turns back to the podium, “Thangk you,” he says to the blessings before continuing, “Where was I? Oh, right,” he mumbles to himself. 

“The processes work between the system and its surroundings, and the system undergoes period changes,” he begins lecturing again, but the itch stubbornly returns. He changes course, straying from his notes in an attempt to get a moment to collect himself, “work with the phh’ehrson beside you and discuss why these changes- hhhHih- might occur.”

Jayce is grateful as the room fills with chatter, finally granted a second to attend to his nose. He berates the appendage with his palm, turning his back to the class once again and catching a wet, “hhHHGGSSXHCHHew!” against his wrist. 

Luckily, this sneeze seems to dispel the itch for now, allowing him to refocus on his notes. After a few minutes, Jayce interrupts the discussion, drawing his student’s attention back to the lecture. It only takes a simple, “Let’s continue,” for the students to stop speaking. They listen well to him as he’s one of the more favored professors at the school for two reasons. Firstly, he’s nice: he takes time out of his day to talk to students one on one if they’re struggling, he’s lenient in giving extensions for assignments, and he makes pleasant small talk instead of acting superior. Secondly, he’s hot. Sure, it may seem inappropriate to say so, but if you put an intelligent, kind, wildly attractive man in front of a group of twenty-something-year-olds, they’ll pay attention.

“As I’m sure you all know, thermodynamic cycles are vital to a lot of mechanisms in engineering machinery,” Jayce starts lecturing again, noting that even a few of the students seem especially sniffly and sneezy– maybe it’s the dust, or maybe there’s a cold going around campus, that would at least explain where he caught it from. 

As Jayce continues teaching, his headache gradually worsens, the weight of his body threatening to make him drop to the floor. And yet, he stubbornly continues. He glances at the clock on the wall: 2:12. He’s already made it halfway through the lecture, surely he can make it another hour…. Right?

Wrong.

Within a few minutes, the tickling sensation in his nose returns, forcing him to rub it every few sentences to keep the liquid clinging to his septum at bay. Logically, he knows it’s only a matter of time before he has a fit. He’s grown accustomed to the signs, knowing full well how bothersome his nose gets when he’s sick. 

“The Brayton Cycle, also known as the Gas Turbine -hhh- cycle is used in gas turbines and jhhhH-jet engines,” he says as he moves to the chalkboard, brushing the coating of dust away with his sleeve, “it involves- hHH,” Jayce realizes his mistake a moment too late, the dust pushing his nose past its limit. 

Before he can even cover, Jayce snaps forwards with a harsh sneeze, “hhHHZZZXCHHEW’hh!” He watches as a splatter of droplets land on the floor below him, blushing and quickly moving to cover his dripping nose, “hhHGDSHHDXCH’uhh!”

Once again, a chorus of bless yous sound from his students, and he embarrassedly says, “Thangk you.”

“As I was saying, this cycle involves many components,” he continues, sniffling against his runny nose as he begins writing on the chalkboard, “Air, combustion, and expansion of exhaust gasses are the most- snNDFf- important…” 

Jayce’s voice trails off as his breath begins hitching again, and once again he curses himself for having forgotten tissues. His brain short circuits as a build up begins, and he tries desperately to mutter, “ExchhhH-cuse hH’eh mbe-” before doubling over into his elbow again.

“hheH’HNNGGSXCHh’uh- hhhih’ih’HRSSZZCHHHhh!” 

The double comes out back to back, and it’s as if the floodgates are finally broken. Jayce blushes as he registers the strings of snot clinging from his nose to the crook of his elbow, turning away from the podium and wiping a smear of mess along his sleeve. After a moment, he turns back with a defeated sigh. He glances at the clock: 2:25. 

“Mby abologies,” he starts, cringing at the sound of his own voice, almost unrecognizable through its congestion, “I’mb calling class early. Remember thad your- hhh- blueprint drafts are due this- snNDFf- Friday.”

At their dismissal, the students begin chatting and clearing their notebooks, evidently pleased with their class being cut short. On a day like this, Jayce can’t blame them, the gloomy overcast outside making it a perfect afternoon to stay bundled in bed. 

As the student’s exit, he hears a few mentions of the dust in the room, figuring that they’re blaming his nose’s performance on allergies rather than illness. He busies himself with cleaning up his notes, grateful that no one tries talking to him. 

After a few minutes, he’s finally alone. In the silence of the lecture room, it finally hits him just how miserable he feels. Aside from his dripping and raw nose, his throat is aching, his head is throbbing, and he feels like he’s carrying around a bag of bricks. 

His movements are dulled, making his progress in collecting all his things and wiping the chalkboard painfully slow. Finally, Jayce manages to compose himself enough to leave the room, giving the Room 215 placard one last glare before heading down the hall.

i hope someone enjoyed! as always, comments, tags, and reposts are much appreciated :) i'm hoping to post the second part next week, so expect some j/ayvik caretaking fluff

sorry for any grammatical errors or typos! i wrote most of this around 3AM so it has some issues (that i'm too tired to fix lol)