#realized there wasn't a lot out there that scratches the itch i want

[skyward-floored]

Good grief I'm actually considering writing star wars fanfiction. don't let me do it.

[senipsenipsenip]

Dipper sighed as he felt another pen crack between his molars. Great, Mabel was definitely going to make fun of him for the ink stains on his mouth when she got home. He could hear it now, Wow Dipper, I knew you were a nerd, but I didn't know if I left you alone you'd start kissing your homework.

Dipper sighed and threw the pen into the trash with the other three he'd already snapped. It wasn't fair - he spent the whole summer fighting monsters and saving the world, why did he have to learn the stupid Great Depression's effect on American Literature or whatever. He glanced at the calendar. Only a little over a month until winter break. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford had promised to try and make it back to Gravity Falls so they could host the twins for the holidays. Sure, they had only been on the open ocean for a couple of months, but the two of them decided it would probably be best to start with a shorter trip then build up from there. After all, despite their age, they were still rookies. Besides, there was nothing on the sea that would help jog Stan's memory other than Great Uncle Ford's questioning. Being on home soil would hopefully bring back some more of Stan's forgotten past.

Dipper's phone pinged. He frowned. That shouldn't happen. He had his phone on Do Not Disturb so he could finish studying. The only alerts that would still pass through were texts from Mabel, Grunkle Stan, or Great Uncle Ford. Mabel never texted when she was out with her friends, and it's not like there was a lot of cell reception out at sea. Curiosity peaked, Dipper unlocked his phone.

It was Stan. More specifically, Stan's boots on the deck of the boat. It was a video, and before Dipper could press play, three little dots appeared indicating Stan was typing. Dipper sat back and waited. It usually took Grunkle Stan awhile to type out his messages. He always blamed the too small phone screen, saying it wasn't designed for fat fingers and cataracts.

What does this mean?

Dipper frowned at the message. Was he asking Dipper to decode a message? Why wouldn't he just ask Great Uncle Ford? Unless...oh gosh was Great Uncle Ford in danger? Did they need help? Why wouldn't he call? Dipper turned his volume up as high as he could, pressing play with a sweaty thumb.

The video started on Stan's boots, but quickly shifted as Stan started pointing his phone at something on the...oh. The wooden planks Dipper had seen Stan standing on weren't the planks of the boat deck, they were floorboards for an outdoor patio. A patio that was full of people speaking...some sort of language. Something Nordic maybe. Geez, weren't they freezing? Maybe not because...Nordic.

The camera was pointed at the door separating the bar from the patio, specifically, the top right corner where a set of speakers had been hung. Oh, Dipper realized. He's trying to record the music. Dipper held the phone to his ear. Maybe Stan was trying to figure out a secret code in the lyrics? He was pretty sure he had told Stan all about that day when they saved Wendy from Robbie's horrible music. This sounded a lot different than Robbie's music though. It was way more upbeat and -

...comin' through, that girl is youuuu...

"Oh my God," Dipper groaned, letting his head fall to his desk. Of course. Of course that's what would be playing. Of course a Nordic bar would be blasting Icelandic Pop Sensation BABBA.

Now Stan's message made sense. He had heard the song and felt "The Itching". That's what Stan had taken to calling it when he could feel himself starting to remember something, but needed a little extra help making it make sense. Stan said it was because it felt like an itching in the back of his brain. Dipper was pretty sure he called it that because if he announced he had "an itch that needs scratching" it was always a fifty-fifty toss up as to whether he needed help with a memory or literally wanted someone to help him scratch himself. Sometimes it was both. Either away, Stan got a kick out of how many times he could trick Ford.

Dipper grimaced. Maybe he could get out of this one. After all, Stan doesn't need all of his memories...right? He could forget some of the more embarrassing ones.

It's a song by BABBA. He typed. It's called "Disco Girl." There. The fact Stan's going to know that Dipper can identify the song is embarrassing enough, he doesn't need to remember The Incident.

The three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Oh. OK.

Dipper sat his phone down. There. That was that. He didn't need to feel guilty about how Stan somehow managed to sound disappointed with two words. Besides, he had homework to do. He was a busy guy. Yep, not gonna think about it.

His phone pinged.

Made me think of you.

Okay. Starting to feel guilty now. Dipper sighed. Even over text message, he could hear the tone of voice Stan would say it in. That tone where he would say something like it was just a careless aside so that you wouldn't think he was taking something seriously, so then you wouldn't take it seriously, so that he could tell himself you didn't take it seriously because you thought he wasn't taking it seriously and not because you don't take him seriously or care about him seriously or -

Dipper frowned. Maybe these English classes were doing something after all. Apparently all of that fictional character analysis made him better at analyzing his uncle.

He could picture Stan now, having already sat his phone face-down on the table, wondering why there was some memory of Dipper that Dipper didn't want to share with him. Oh man, he probably thinks Dipper's tired of helping out with his memories or something.

That's because you heard me sing it once. Dipper wrote. That should be enough to jog Stan's memory a bit.

The three dots. Heard or saw?

Dipper groaned. Maybe Stan was just messing with him. He probably remembered the whole thing and was just trying to get Dipper to regale him with the story again so he could laugh at him.

Whatever. Dipper would be the bigger man.

Both. You walked in on me after I got out of the shower. You really need to learn how to knock, man.

There. That should be enough. Hopefully Stan and Ford will get back on the boat and see a giant Kraken or something equally as awesome so Stan forgets all about this conversation.

He exited out of their message thread and opened up his thread with Great Uncle Ford. Whatever "clever" joke Stan wanted to make at his expense would probably take forever to write. Might as well take advantage of the good cell service while he knows they have it.

Hey! Are you with Grunkle Stan?

Three bubbled appeared. Dipper didn't have to wait long. Ford was a surprisingly quick texter.

Yes, we're exploring the town together. I take it you're the one he's been texting?

Yeah. He had an itch. Nothing crazy, just a song he heard this summer he couldn't remember the name of. Okay, he probably could have told Ford. Especially after learning about the whole Kiss-Bot incident, Dipper's BABBA incident definitely didn't come close. But c'mon, wasn't Dipper allowed to have at least one family member who thought he had a shred of dignity left?

He smiled. Probably not. After all, he was a Pines.

Ah, that explains his behavior then.

Dipper frowned. Behavior? Is he okay?

Oh yes, of course. My apologies if my language was alarming, Stanley says I tend to word things "dramatically". He's simply trying to ask the table next to us if there are any music stores nearby. I didn't realize children still used physical CDs.

Wait. Stan is looking for a music store? Why specifically mention children? Dipper typed slowly, wording his questions as discretely as he could.

Oh? Is Stan looking for a CD?

The bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Dipper frowned. They reappeared.

Disregard my earlier message.

Oh they were definitely up to something. Two could play at that game. You don't live with a professional con man all summer and not learn how to get what you want out of someone.

Okay. Hey, Grunkle Stan showed me a bit of the patio. Can you send a video too? Would be interested in seeing where you are.

Of course. One moment, please.

Dipper sat his phone on his desk while he waited. Realistically, he should be working on his homework while he waits. It's not like he'll be able to focus on anything when Mabel gets home. But, it's not like he can focus on anything now, mind buzzing as much as it is.

After three minutes and fifty-three seconds, Dipper's phone pinged. He grinned and pressed play.

The video started pointing toward the other side of the patio. Made sense, Ford was probably sitting across from Stan at their table. Stan was nowhere to be seen though. He must have stood up to speak to the table next to him. Dipper could see townsfolk sat at their tables in heavy winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations, and while Ford panned slowly across the porch, Dipper recognized another BABBA song playing faintly in the background. The owner must have had a playlist going. There were fairy lights strung up across the porch, street lamps helping illuminate the night. Wherever they were must have been in the middle of some small town, probably no bigger than Gravity Falls.

"Ford!" Grunkle Stan's voice rang out. Dipper quickly held the phone up to his ear again. There was a loud metallic grating sound - probably Grunkle Stan pulling out his chair to sit down again.

"You're never gonna believe it!" Stan sounded excited about something.

"A moment, please, Stan," Ford murmured.

"We don't have to go to the music store! Those people didn't speak English but the guy who runs this place does a little. That internet translator did the rest."

"Google, Stanley."

"Whatever. Anyway, he said he'd sell me the CD he's playing right now when he closes up for the night."

"That's great Stan. Hold on a moment I'm just trying to film this for -"

"Dipper's gonna love this! I think. It's sort of coming back to me. I think that memory he helped me with, I think..."

Stan trailed off. Dipper pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the video had ended, but Ford was still dutifully scanning their surroundings with the camera. It looked like Ford had stood up, holding the phone high above his head to show Dipper the coastline beyond the porch railings.

"I think I told him I was proud of him that day." Stan's confession was quiet. But Stan quiet. Which meant loud enough to be picked up on Ford's camera.

Ford's movement stopped. "You did? Why?"

"Well. I sorta did. I think. He was tryna prove he was 'a man' or whatever, so I told him he was. He stood up for what was right even though no one else agreed with him. And then I think I uh...ripped my shirt off and showed him my chest hair. Maybe I should get him to fill in some of those blanks there."

Ford laughed. "I don't remember it taking much to get you to take your shirt off."

"I'm a gross, old man now, Ford. We'd all prefer if it stayed on."

Ford hummed. "So how much is the CD?"

"Eh, he wants like 500 Kroner."

"Seems overpriced."

"Well it's gonna be free."

Ford sighed. "Stanley..."

"What?" Stan cried indignantly. "He's obviously tryna scam me anyway! Besides, it's worth it. Dipper will love it! It's a CD of a band he likes from Iceland stolen from Iceland. Trust me it'll be worth the -"

All sound stopped. The video had ended. Dipper sat at his desk, a small smile on his face. He had been so worried about Stan remembering one of his more embarrassing moments but...Stan remembered it as a day that Dipper made him proud. Huh.

He exited the video and saw that Ford had sent him another message only a minute after sending the video.

Please disregard that video. Terrible audio quality, I have to retake it.

As Dipper began to type a reply, he saw three bubbles appear. He waited.

I'm going to infer that the delay in your response is because you didn't see my message in time and already viewed the video. My apologies, I forget how strong the audio quality of phone cameras are.

Three more bubbles.

Please act surprised.

Ah well. Dipper had omitted the truth a couple of times tonight. What was one more? He started to type.

Sorry, I was working on my homework while I waited for an answer. Guess I got distracted. Should I not watch the video?

Three bubbles. Ah, I see. Yes, that would be for the best. I'll take another video for you now. In the meantime, keep up the good work!

Dipper sat his phone back down on the table and picked up another pen. Might as well do a little more homework so he wasn't totally lying. But first...

He opened his message thread with Stan.

Need help with anything else?

Nope. Go to bed.

Dipper laughed. There it was. The curmudgeon was back, trying to hide the fact he was a big softie underneath.

It's earlier here you know. If anyone should be in bed, it should be you.

I'm old. I do what I want.

Okay old man. Love you!

Sap.

Dipper snorted and sat down his phone. A moment later, it pinged again. He glanced at the screen and saw it was another message from Stan. It was only two words, but they knocked together like flint and steel, lighting something warm in Dipper's chest.

You too.

AN: A continuation of this! I kind of just want to write a bunch of one shots going with this. Some ideas are brewing!

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[a-prompt-archive]

dropping them truth-bombs

I've read and enjoyed quite a lot of truth-serum fics that are Tim Drake-centric lately. And I've enjoyed practically all of them, but there's still one little itch that hasn't been scratched by reading them.

I would love to read a fic where Tim is completely unaware of these truth-bombs he's dropping and the effect they're having on the people around him. Of course that's seems hardly feasible through drugs, so let's call it a spell from Klarion as revenge for Tim trying to adopt Teekl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

I just feel this need to read about Tim being put under observation (of course not allowed to go to work since he might drop bat-secrets to random employees) and suddenly saying these random things that come to mind.

To Jason: "You know, you were my favorite Robin? The first emotion I felt when I realized you were Red Hood was pure joy at the fact that you had somehow survived."

To Damian: "When I heard that somehow Bruce's bio-kid had shown up and joined the family I was ecstatic. I probably annoyed the fuck out of the other members of my team telling them I had a little brother to take care of and teach fun stuff to. Then we met and it was clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Not gonna lie, that was a pretty big hit to my feelings."

To Dick: "Did you ever realize how often you called me Jason back in the beginning? I never mentioned it of course. Could only hope acting as a sort of second chance for you was enough to make you happy. And of course it was selfish too, I was scared that if I drew your attention to the fact, that you'd stop hanging out with me cause you'd realize I wasn't actually Jason and could never be as good as him.

To Bruce: "I never even wanted to be Robin in the first place you know? Would've been happy just following you guys around taking pictures from a safe distance. But then I had to call 911 and lie about seeing a man being beaten up by some random rogue's goons. And then the guy died in the hospital and I knew that any choice I had died with him."

Of course there are some funny and happy truth-bombs too, like all the bats trying to stop Tim from telling Alfred about the one recipe of his everyone dislikes. Or Tim telling Cass that she's his favorite. But a lot of it's people reacting to what Tim says like Dipper and Mable in that GF episode where Grunkle Stan can only tell the truth.

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768315021606469633/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs768260981215330304

oh my god. i love them so much and im so glad they are doing better!

mack is so fucking funny… wait till he sees all the scratch and hickeys all over will…

part 12/slight bonus! writing macklin's dialogue and banter is my favorite thing to do bc he obviously loves will and samy and loves to poke fun at will about every single thing

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

"sooo, tell us about your weekend," thomas asked as soon as he got the chance once practice was over for the day on monday. the others circled in around him and the blonde just as curious to know too.

will flushed from where he sat at his stall cleaning himself up and preparing for a shower, "it was really good. we had a lot of fun."

"you gotta bring her to one of our parties. we're dying to meet her after hearing so much," eklund cut in with a little smirk.

the sharks players had been itching to meet samy since they found out she was their rookie's longtime best friend and girlfriend. they'd only heard stories and seen the photos.

"yeah, maybe next time or when she comes to a game," will hummed, glad his teammates were eager to meet her. it reminded him of boston and his linemates who were also just as excited to meet samy when they moved to plymouth.

"how much fun did you guys really have?" thomas poked some more obviously just in good fun, but also to tease the blonde.

"let's just say will's passenger seat was not in the right position when i got into it," macklin cut in before will could answer.

the bonde's face quickly burned in embarrassment as he eyed his friend to shut up.

"woah..did you guys go at it?" thomas continued along with a few snickers from the others around them.

"maybe," will tried playing it off. he didn't mind the teasing, but he did kind of mind telling them about his sex life because obviously, that was a pretty intimate and private topic that he wasn't going to willingly share with everyone.

"aw, come on. don't be shy. you totally did," ecklund roughed up will's arm in a teasing manner. all the hockey player did was shake his head slightly and play it off with a smile.

they seemed to lay off for now which will was grateful for. he escaped back into the showers to clean himself off and get out of the rink before anyone else wanted to poke at him about his weekend.

by the time him and macklin got back into his car, most of the guys were gone already so the blonde evaded any more questions they had. the two threw their stuff into the back and then got themselves situated in the front seats.

as will messed around with some things before starting the car, he didn't realize his shirt had ridden up and exposed a bit of his back. macklin was adjusting himself and snapping his seatbelt into place when his eyes caught sight of will's exposed skin and then the slight red.

"woah, you take too hot of a shower or something?" the brunette wondered to which will grew confused.

"huh?"

"your back is like red. you good?"

still, will was confused so he reached around to touch his back where the skin was exposed. he felt around, not feeling anything tender, but his fingers did brush over a line of raised skin.

"just let me see for a second," macklin offered, wanting to make sure his friend was okay. he helped will lift his shirt up more and that's when he saw more red marks running up and down will's back like someone attacked him.

"holy fuck, why is your back all scratched up?"

as soon as the question left his lips, macklin immediately knew and will remembered at the same time. the brunette scrunched his nose up, "dude, what the fuck. this too? jesus, how hard did you go this weekend?"

the blonde's face flushed in more embarrassment as he quickly pulled his shirt all the way down. "what? we didn't go that hard," will defended himself.

"how many times did you even fuck? i know the car was 1," macklin raised his eyebrow and will seriously couldn't believe he was having this conversation again.

"i guess 3. the other 2 were in my room," he admitted a bit sheepishly.

"oh my god. you're disgusting. remind me to never be in the same house as you two.," macklin shook his head like he was some disappointed dad hearing all of this.

"hey. if you had a girlfriend right now, i know you'd be the exact same, so i don't wanna hear it," will rolled his eyes.

"please tell me that's it. please tell me i'm not gonna discover anything else remaining from this weekend that has to do with that," macklin made a circular motion with his hand towards will, a look of disgust still on his features.

"there's hickeys on my chest, but that's it. swear it," will watched macklin roll his eyes hearing that.

"jesus christ, smitty. you guys are hornyyy, wow. i gotta go home and drink bleach so i never think of this again," the brunette shook his head which earned him the middle finger as will finally pulled out of the parking lot.

"you're so over dramatic. what happens when you get a girlfriend?"

"we won't be as horny as you two," macklin shot right back without mssing a beat.

"and what happens if you guys end up having to do long distance and don't see one another for weeks on end?" will raised his eyebrow.

"that will be none of your business," the younger boy crossed his arms.

"right. can't wait to see the hickeys on you then. i'll tease you all about it," the blonde grinned and macklin shoved him.

it was safe to say neither of them talked about the occurrences in will's car ever again. or at least until samy came back to visit. the younger brunette made sure to stay far, far away while she was in town again.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the compound part two

words: 2.6k

warnings: very brief illusion to sex (still sfw), alien apocalypse au!, violence, guns/shooting, little bit of angst

part one / part two

you let out a groan as you wake up, stretching before realizing you aren't laying atop your usual bedroll laid over grass and soil, but rather a real bed.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“oh my god, it was real.” you open your eyes to rafe hovering over you, a look of slight concern in his eyes.

“it's real, im here.” he says softly. you look down at your body. rafe had partially undressed you to make your sleep more comfortable, as well as bandaged the cut on your leg.

“was it bad?” you ask, tilting your knee to see your calf. the gauze is completely clean and sterile white, not something you've seen since the aliens came.

“it wasn't too deep. you won't need stitches but will have to stay off it for a bit.” rafe moves to lay down next to you, letting you snuggle into his chest. you block it out for a minute. block out the pain, the fear, the death and destruction. in this moment, it's just you and rafe.

“i also cleaned you up a bit. still sleep just as deep.” rafe smirks. you examine your body closer, arms and legs gently washed clean from the dirt and grime built up that felt inevitable.

“how did you get here?” you question. “how did you become in charge of all of… this?”

“my uncle, the one in the military. he was stationed here. i figured since he was high ranking, he would be kept in charge of the base while the other soldiers went to fight the aliens…” rafe continues to explain his story. how as soon as he arrived, his uncle made him his right hand man until the base was attacked by aliens. rafe managed to survive along with a few others who looked to him for leadership. they reinforced the base and expanded ever since.

“how much food do you have?” you ask. 

“enough.” rafe simply says, which makes you frown and pick your head up to look at him.

“is it true you don't help anyone? even those who beg?”

rafe sighs. he knew this topic would inevitably come up. you have a soft heart, sure you've built up walls after being burnt too many times trying to help others, but your nature is still gentle and sweet compared to rafes.

“i gotta put my men first. i can't just give handouts to anyone who wants them. we'd have nothing left for ourselves.” rafe hopes the explanation is enough to dissuade you. “but you're first now, baby. the men here will protect you. you don't have to fight anymore.”

you allow rafe to turn you onto your back, to kiss you while hovering over you, relaxing his body into yours as you reconnect, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

--

“when is the next hunting party going out?” you ask rafe, scratching your fingers over his head, rubbing through his hair as he looks at the various papers scattered on his desk. maps of nearby areas, lists upon lists of ingredients, even a guide to native plants.

“probably dawn tomorrow. we are hoping for deer.” rafe says, glancing at the schedule that he has planned out. more detailed for upcoming days, while far off plans are just jotted in.

“can i go with them? im pretty good with a bow.”

rafes hands stop shuffling through the papers, air in the room suddenly going stale. “y/n… it's not safe outside the fence.” 

“i lived outside the fence for months. i can hold my own. plus, your guys will have guns.” guns can be hit or miss after the aliens shut down a lot of technology, but thankfully the military ones kept in the base were in pretty good working order. still, everyone prefers their deer to be taken down with arrows.

rafe pushes away from the desk, turning to pull you down onto his lap. “no. im sorry. just… no.”

“rafe, im going to go fucking crazy just staying inside the fence. you barely even let me outside.” it's been two months of adjusting to compound life, two months of reconnecting with rafe, watching him lead with confidence and authority. two months of the itching feeling to move growing.

“i know the alien attacks have lessened. a lot of people think they've pulled out, but we still have occasional sightings. you know how quickly things happen. if you're outside, you're vulnerable.”

you sigh, seeing the look in rafes eye. so much pain and hurt. “okay.” you nod. “okay, not tomorrow. but at some point, i need to do… something, anything.”

“we'll figure it out.” rafe nods. “i promise.”

“thank you.” you nod. so many things have changed about your dynamic since the end of the world, but it still feels familiar at moments, you sitting on his lap, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

“i need you.” you whisper against rafes lips, hands moving down his chest.

“i should keep working.” rafe hums, even as his hands move underneath your shirt.

“but you won't.” you giggle.

--

you stand behind rafe as he hands out assignments. compound life is a lot different than anything you expected. they focus much more internally, whether it's reinforcing the base or making things more comfortable for the men and few women there.

“klaus, tim and fiona…” rafe reads off the names, the three stepping forward. you know tim a little bit, with him being one of the closest men to rafe, but you haven't interacted with most of the people, rafes orders keeping everyone busy.

“we are turning the central courtyard into a garden. fruits, vegetables, whatever you can get to grow.” rafe explains. he's taken you past the central courtyard before, completely surrounded by compound buildings. it'll be a lot of work, it's completely overgrown, no big trees but years of brush build up.

“y/n.” rafe calls you forward next. you blink at your boyfriend before stepping forward. “you'll be project lead.”

“yes- yes, sir.” you've never called rafe sir before, but it seems right considering the environment, everyone else addressing him as such. rafe didn't mention this assignment to you, but you're glad he did as he hands you a packet of papers, nodding to you to head off with the three compound crew.

you glance back at rafe as you head out of the auditorium. he's already assigning new orders, but catches your eye, nodding to you for encouragement.

you go through the papers with everyone, finding the three people rafe chose an easy mesh. you should have known, they're likely hand picked for you rather than for the actual project.

“i was a botanist before…” klaus says, pausing when your eyes widen, clearly surprised. you never would have guessed a man with such a hard exterior had a job like that before the aliens came.

“a lot has changed since.” klaus grunts out. “everyone is different.”

“i know.” you frown, breaking eye contact. “i didn't mean any offense.”

silence stretches out until fiona clears it with a clearing of her throat. “well, as a botanist or whatever, what plants or shit do we… well, plant.”

you like fiona already. it makes sense that she has been thriving at the compound, her personality being even tougher than most of the men.

klaus begins to explain, and before long the day is over, parting ways as you head back to rafes chambers.

“sorry i sprung that on you.” rafe says when you enter the room, clearly holding back to see if you're upset. “i just wanted to give you something to do.”

“it's okay, i understand.” you nod. springing it on you also deprives you of the chance to say no, which you can't blame rafe for. “it's also good that the rest of the compound sees me contributing.”

“it is.” rafe nods. “can i kiss you then?”

“yes, im not mad.” you smile at your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his lips meet yours.

“our canned food is running low. barely, but it is. this garden is really important, baby.” rafe says softly. “whatever plants grow best, we will be planting more.”

“it's a good plan.” you nod. “sustainable.”

--

“i guess it makes sense.” you shrug as you fill out your reports. it seems silly to hand in papers stating to rafe what you tell him every night, but it's important to document the progress of the garden.

“what does?” tim questions, also charting his own responsibilities, having split up the work between the four of you to make it easier.

“that the native plants are the ones growing best.”

“i didn't even realize that.” tim laughs, his southern accent thick. he's one of the few at the compound who were stationed here before the attack, originally from louisiana, but claimed he has no interest in going back, knowing there's no one out there waiting for him.

“i think your boy toy is thinking about expanding the garden.” fiona smirks, always coming up with creative names for rafe, especially after seeing the way he hovers over you, even shooting daggers into klaus when he got just a little too close while planting seeds.

“that'd be great. i know we have canned food still and the deer but having fresh food is so needed.” you look up to the courtyard, having chosen to work in an office with a view of the garden. the fresh air is also great for you. you know it's the real reason rafe gave you the job. it allowed you to be outside while still being surrounded by four walls.

“let's call it for tonight.” tim says, setting down his pen. “we have all of tomorrow to work on the reports too.”

“sounds good.” you nod, waving goodbye to everyone until you're the only one in the room. you look out onto the flourishing garden once more before heading out. you know you're not truly alone as two men shadow you, armed to the teeth with guns and knives. your protection, sanctioned by rafe. you turn the corner of the compound, hearing their footsteps speed up to keep visual of you.

instead of turning down the hallway leading towards rafes bedroom, you turn the opposite way towards the exit. you take a deep breath upon pushing open the doors, allowing yourself to breathe in the fresh air, the smell of trees and nature thick instead of the musty smell inside the compounds old walls.

“ma’am.” a harsh voice rings out from the shadows, making you jump. “rafe said to keep you inside.”

“oh please.” you roll your eyes. “the compound hasn't been attacked in months. ill be fine.”

at the capping of your words, a gunshot sounds from further down the fenceline. “get back inside, now!” the man yells at you, sprinting to see what was shot at. maybe it's just a misfire, or someone got lucky and saw a deer.

your detail finally realizes where you've gone, the doors opening behind you as shouts sound out from where the gunfire was heard. you look back at the men, sworn to protect you. they usher you back inside, but instead you turn the other way, towards the noise and action.

you just want to see what's going on as they creep behind you. you get closer, having to squint through the darkening sky to see that the fence has been torn down in one section, flattened like a stampede has rolled through. that's when you hear it. the familiar clicking and rattling associated with the aliens. you hold in your gasp, knowing noise will just attract them towards you as you press your back into the brick wall, hoping that you're camouflaged as you peek around the corner of the building, seeing the alien, a grotesque mix of bloody flesh and robotic gears and metal.

“y/n!” a familiar voice whisper-screams at you. “i need to get you back inside, now.”

you turn away from the corner as the alien bends down over a man who is clearly already long gone to see tim, a gun in hand. 

“kill that thing.” you gesture your head around the corner, wanting it gone before it can do any further harm.

“my orders are to keep you safe. ill get you inside first and then we will take it out.” tim explains in a quiet voice. you both realize far too late that it wasn't quiet enough as the clicking gets closer.

“run!” tim shouts, throwing himself around the corner, gun spraying bullets as you sprint, the two guards pull you back, pushing you across the opening towards the closest doors.

you scramble when you hear a scream from tim. “no!” you shout, grabbing one of their guns. one you barely know how to use, but you need to save your friend.

you rush back around the corner when you see the alien over top of tim, one of his arms in its disgusting mouth. you let out a war cry, hoping the bullets previously sprayed into him will be enough for your shots to be the final straw and kill it as you raise your gun, firing at least enough to distract the monster, head turning towards you. 

you back up but continue shooting, joined by your guards who quickly flank you. it must be a mature alien, with how many bullets its taking to take it down. you back up, allowing the men to shoot as you back towards the entrance, ready to take cover if needed.

“y/n!” rafe shouts, bursting through the doors. “get inside, now!” your gun clicks, out of bullets. you drop it and run to rafe, letting him pull you inside. you look through the windows on the door, through the thick bulletproof glass as the alien finally falls.

“tims hurt, he needs help.” you tell rafe, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as his face is one of anger.

“you disobey me? i told you to stay inside, and look what happens when you don’t listen!” 

“disobey?” you rip yourself out of rafes hold, taking a step back as men rush out the doors between the two of you, to help tim, get rid of the aliens nasty carcass, and most importantly to the compound, repair and reinforce the fence, the alien obviously able to exploit a weak spot.

you press your back against the wall until the stream of men stop. “in case you forgot, i’m not one of your soldiers. im your fucking girlfriend.” you stomp away from rafe, knowing he can’t follow as he has to lead the men outside.

--

“tims fine.” its the first thing rafe says to you as he enters into your bedroom. you’re changed into your pajamas, but are sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as your toes touch along the soft rug.

“his arm from the elbow down wasn’t saveable, but he’ll live.” rafe undoes his weapons before moving to kneel in front of you. you should speak, reply, but you can’t force your mouth to open.

“i’m sorry. sorry for treating you like that.” rafe places his hands on your knees, glad that you don’t push him away. “i love you. i love you so fucking much and i don’t want to lose you. i’ll give you what freedom i can but- but i need you to keep yourself safe too. if you wanted to leave the building that badly, you could have told me.” “i know.” your voice is hoarse. “i love you too.” “im just so fucking scared all the time. i think about you constantly. whenever i can’t see you, im just fucking anxious.” rafe places his head into your lap, relieved when your fingers rub over his scalp, his hair cropped short in the same fashion as most of the men.

“you’re not gonna lose me, rafe.” you promise him. “we found each other. here, at the end of the world, we made our way back to each other.”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl

[bcolfanfic]

Can I please request Decorating for Halloween + leaning against the other one in close spaces for the corner store au boys? Something involving the void kitty, if you feel inspired 🥹❤️

sweet lil babies. this takes place a couple weeks after the first blurb/gale first showing up.

Gale pushed open the door to the corner store, the soft jingle of the bell overhead cutting through his thoughts. This place was becoming a bit of a habit for him, mostly because it was a reason to be out of the apartment and away from Haussmann bugging him. And a little bit because of John, always smiling- and nice without being overbearing.

He'd briefly met his co-worker the other day, Curt, who was louder than John both literally and in how he carried himself as a whole. But he could tell they were close.

"Yeah, once upon time this one here was shy too if you can believe that," He'd said with his arm slung around John's shoulder, giving his cheek a little pinch. Curt's New York accent a whole lot thicker than his was.

Gale didn't see John in his usual place behind the counter when he walked in, scanning the shop for him or Curt until he found him crouched near a box of Halloween directions that looked a bit like it had exploded. John looked up when he realized he wasn't alone, grin spreading across his face when he saw who it was.

“Hey Gale,” he said, hands pressed into his knees as he stood up off the ground. “Curt’s out sick, and I’ve got all this stuff to put up. Could use a hand- if you’re not too busy,”

Gale blinked. He sucked in his bottom lip, looking at the pile of decorations on the ground. "You want me to help?"

John chuckled softly. “Yeah, unless you see another Gale around here."

Gale hesitated, the urge to say no, get what he came in for and leave making his wrists itch. But it was a reason to be a little longer getting back home.

And a reason to spend more time with the closest thing he had to a friend right now.

“‘m not busy,” he mumbled, forcing himself to look at John as he scratched at his palm.

“Sweet.” John replied, bending back down to pull a pile of what Gale was pretty sure were fake cobwebs out of the torn open box. “You can drape these over the shelves over there, but make sure they aren't covering the prices too much,"

Just as he was about to hand them over something brushed against Gale’s leg and he couldn't help but startle a little. Looking down, he felt a little silly when he realized it was just the cat weaving between his ankles.

John chuckled, watching the animal push her head against the side of Gale's socks with a fond smile. “Hey Luna, found a new buddy huh?”

Gale crouched down to give her a gentle scratch behind her ears, chest feeling warm when she leaned into the touch, purring softly. “I didn’t realize she had a name,” he mumbled in a near whisper, Luna purring louder in response.

He stood back up reluctantly after a minute, taking the handful of cobwebs John had been meaning to give him before they were interrupted.

They worked quietly for a while- and it felt a little weird to not be making small talk. But the silence somehow wasn't as awkward as it could've been. Every now and then Gale caught John stealing glances at him, something about the tenderness in his eyes making his stomach flip over on itself.

Coming from anyone else it would've felt pitiful.

Coming from John, it didn’t.

John eventually drifted closer to him, holding a string of orange pumpkin lights. “Need help?” he asked as he stepped into Gale’s space, his arm brushing against him as he reached up to adjust the cobwebs. “If you double 'em over they won’t slide off as much."

Gale's breath caught when their shoulders touched, the proximity feeling intentional from John's end. He swallowed hard, feeling his heartrate kick up.

“That's smart, thanks," he said quickly, eyes darting to John's face before flicking away again. He felt flustered, flustered enough to be embarrassed about it.

But the moment lingered, and Gale found his gaze wandering back to John as he weaved the string of lights he was holding between the gaps in the side of shelving unit. The way he smiled as he worked, the casual confidence in the way he moved, a few curls of hair falling into his eyes and his shoulder continuing to bump against his- it all felt heightened suddenly.

The realization that followed made Gale's ears ring.

John was… cute.

His cheeks burned, and he quickly looked away again- berating himself in his head. John was just being nice.

And he was being ridiculous.

Whether John could read his mind or not, he didn't move away. Gale could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the space between them, could feel the fabric of his flannel shirt grazing the back of his neck when he reached around him to grab something.

“Look at that,” John said, voice lower and almost teasing, when he'd finished with the lights. He took a step back to admire their progress, arms crossed. “I think we make a pretty good team huh Gale?”

Gale swallowed, heat creeping up the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said soft, giving John a half smile. “I guess we do.”

[writing-whump]

Super sick

Dylan's high fever part 2. Dylan can't keep anything down, forcing Rip to some drastic measures. Emeto warning.

"-I have given him paralen and brufen and everything...no he won't keep it down, it has no effect-...then what am I supposed to do?"

Rip rubbed at his face. It was close to midnight and his eyes hurt. Which was ridiculous cause he didn't get tired. He blamed it more on the stress, the anxious squeezy feeling around his chest that got its hold on him since Dylan became all incoherent.

A quiet moan from Dylan's room got him quickly hanging up and hurrying back.

Dylan kicked the covers off himself, sweating through another shirt and was currently shivering. His eyes were open to slits and his hand was reaching out blindly. For him.

Rip sat up on the edge of the bed and took it. "Hey, hey, man, it's okay. I'm here."

"...where did you go?"

"I was calling your sister for the umpteenth time. No updates."

Dylan scrunched his face like the information was very complicated to understand. "Are they home yet?"

Rip sighed. He had been explaining it for the third time this night at the least. "The trains aren’t working, so they are stuck in Salzburg until the morning. It's just the two of us, buddy."

Dylan didn't seem alarmed, closing his eyes again. His grip on Rip tightened for a second which had his heart clenching again. It was way too weak of a grip to even call it that.

"How did I get into a bed?"

"You threw up all over the blankets, remember?"

Dylan shook his head, a tiny distressed noise making its way out through his clenched teeth.

"Shhhhh. It's alright. It's more comfy here, isn't it?" Rip held his feverish warm hand in both of his.

Keep him comfortable was the main advice he got. Cool Dylan down, keep him comfortable. Try to get him to drink the fever reducers and hope they stay down.

But Dylan wasn't keeping anything down and he seemed to deteriorate in front of Rip's fucking eyes. What kind of crazy flu was this? The fever hit so quickly and was so intense, not wanting to back down.

The hives were still present, but Dylan was too out of it to scratch at them. Or maybe they didn't itch, what did Rip know?

He reached for the cold wet towel on Dylan's forehead, adjusting it. There were small ones around his ankles and wrists and because he kept squirming, Rip had to adjust them a lot.

It was also challenging for organisation to replace them, since Dylan got all worked up whenever he couldn't feel Rip by his side. Contact in any way calmed him down.

Dylan's muffled moan interrupted his thoughts. He curled up on his side, around his stomach, one arm wrapped around his middle and tightening.

Rip shuffled closer to lean against the headboard and Dylan immediately rolled to him to press his face against Rip's tigh. There was a loud audible swallow.

Rip brushed Dylan's hair back, adjusting the towel to the side of his face. "Nausous?"

"Hurts," Dylan said, face turned into the fabric of Rip's sweatpants. He grabbed at the leg next, riding out a wave of cramps with a groan before relaxing slightly.

"We could try the pain meds again-"

Dylan shook his head immediately. "Won't stay down. Can I just sleep?"

"You can sleep, it's alright." Not that it was working, Dylan was too restless and kept tossing, woken up by his stomach.

Another 20 minutes later and Dylan still wasn't asleep. This was proper torture, Rip realized. Not letting him sleep and burning up like this.

"Come on, let's try the meds again," Rip said when he couldn't stand it anymore, sliding his hands under Dylan's back to prop him up against his chest.

He grabbed the glass with water and the pill on the nightstand. "Just one little sip, D."

Dylan didn't bother opening his eyes, eyebwords furrowed as he leaned so much as possible away from Rip's hand. "Don't wanna..."

"You have to. Please, D."

Dylan grimaced, like that wasn't a word he could stand to reject, cracking one eye open. He nodded and Rip quickly pressed the pill between his lips, following up with the glass.

Dylan took a small sip, tensing up, his fist curling into Rip's shirt.

"Try to keep it down for me," Rip pleaded, putting the glass away.

Dylan gave him a tight nod, but his face was clouded over with queasiness.

Rip held him upright, arms around his torso, careful not to put too much pressure. Because of the closeness, Rip could practically feel every reaction and move Dylan's body made.

The sick boy's breathing picked up, chest rising and falling rapidly. He pressed the side of his face into Rip's chest, lips in a tight line. His fist was still scrunching up Rip's shirt like he wanted to tear it to pieces.

And then the fight was lost. The gags came, tiny at first, just shakes of his body that grew in intensity. His chest was heaving soon after, with strength and urgency Dylan currently didn't possess consciously.

Total autopilot.

Rip reached for the trashcan on the floor, holding it under Dylan's chin just in time for the sip of water and the pill to fall out. The heaves were way too strong for that small amount and Dylan kept gagging for 2 minutes straight in empty.

Shaking from extertion, he fell back against Rip who thought his heart would soon burst out of his chest with anxiety.

As the night ticked by, Rip figured out another distracting technique. Stroking little circles on top of Dylan's forehead with his forefinger.

It gave Dylan something to focus on, it seemed, cause the little groans sounded more pleased than distressed, his face turning towards Rip as if to follow the movement.

Rip drew the little patterns around Dylan's eyebrows, his cheekbones, then followed into his hair, leaving trails inside the sweat.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this helpless.

...

Around 5 a.m. Rip couldn't bear it anymore. He kept imagining the road to the pharmacy, visualising it in head in detail. Staring at in in Google maps meant he knew exactly where it was and he came up with several ways on top of the buildings to get there.

Minimising any contact. It would be early in the morning, there wouldn't be a crowd and he could climb up the balconies and take the roofs just fine.

There was just the direct contact with the pharmacist to worry about.

But Isaiah said his shadow was in synch with him. And this was something Rip cared about so how could his soul, his heart and his essence stand in his way?

That boy was his whole fucking world now.

He waited till Dylan fell into a less than peaceful slumber, easing him down on the pillows and sneaking out from his hold. Took money and a bag on his back and opted for the window for the better ledge.

The whole mission couldn't take more than 30 minutes. It was shameful to death he had to gather his courage for the whole night to do it.

Climbing wasn't a problem. Vienna houses were so intensely decorated, there was always something to hold on to and once he reached the top, he could run almost the rest of the way.

It wasn't dark anymore, more of a morning grayness with first pink on the horizon.

Rip reached the pharmacy from the rooftop and scanned the street for people. It was sleepy and empty only one runner jogging nearby.

Rip waited for him to pass before climbing down. Normally, he would jump with the help of his shadow to soften his landing, but he didn't dare reaching for it.

All he could focus on was keeping it shut, tight, away. Suppressed as much as he could.

He stopped in front of the door. Held the handle emerassingly long time. What if this was the end? What if he hurt or killed that woman inside and ruined everything for this pack, for the Executioner?

What if Isaiah was wrong to believe in him? What if Rip was simply not someone who could be saved?

What if he was but this was pushing it? Was it too soon to try to talk to a human?

Worse even, what if Dylan had been wrong about Rip all along?

And maybe all of it wouldn't matter if Rip couldn't make himself get him some fucking medicine before his brain fried.

One more breath. Rip looked down and went inside.

...

Rip couldn't remember the way back. Or the talk itself. It was as if all sound was muffled, as if the world turned black-and-white. Colourless.

But he got back, climbed into the window in the living room. He had a bag filled with anti-nausea meds and fever reducers and aloe vera cream for the hives.

He managed to have a freaking conversation with the elderly lady behind the counter. Who had nothing but sympathetic smiles for him, like he was taking care of his brother for the first time.

Rip shut the window behind him. Sound was coming back to him and it was ringing in his ears. His shadow was a string held back too tightly, cutting blood into the palm around it.

He should hurry.

Shooting for the living room, he pushed the flat thin pill into his mouth. "Don't swallow. Let it dissolve. There you go. Hold it for half an hour and we can try the fever meds again."

Dylan's eyes were shut but he complied. Rip got him new towels for his forehead, neck and ankles.

He got it. Dylan would get better now. They were safe.

The ringing turned to shrieking in his ears. Rip dashed to the bathroom, closing the door. His shadow spilled out, covering the floor and the walls.

Rip pressed his palms against his cheeks. "What?! Happy now? What was so damn hard about it?"

He couldn't say. It was like he was outside of his body when he talked with the lady. The sound of his voice, the sound of her voice, it was lost on him. His vision was blurry. But somehow they communicated long enough to get what was needed.

His stomach turned fiercely and Rip fell down to his knees, heaving over the toilet.

His skin was itching. His thoughts were buzzing wasps in his head and there were snakes inside him, slithering out.

He gagged and heaved, not fighting the onslaught of what he couldn't even name. A wave of snakes got its way out, stinging his throat on the way.

...

Rip woke up to a warm hand on his forehead.

"Don't tell me you caught it so quickly?" Dylan croaked, voice shot from vomiting.

Rip opened an eye. He was lying on the rag in the bathroom, fingers clawed into it. His insides were shaking and he still felt nausous and pained and burned, but also weirdly empty.

"You-" he gagged, but swallowed it down. "You shouldn't be up yet."

"Finally not nausous. I took some paralen an hour ago," Dylan said with a relieved sigh. His cheeks were hallow and still pale, but he looked a lot more like himself already. "What's wrong with you?"

Rip squeezed his eyes shut. "...went to the pharmacy to get you the anti-nausea meds."

He didn't see Dylan's face, but the shocked gasp was enough. Then came the hand, too warm, palming his cheek. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have-"

Rip grabbed onto Dylan's hand on his face. "Don't- don't fucking say that. I am the one who's sorry. The whole night you had to- cause I-" Another gag, more forceful this time.

Rip forced himself up on one arm to burp over the porcelain rim, shaking all over.

Dylan rubbed the center of his back, tilting to the side woozily. "Shhhhh. It's okay." He propped his chin on Rip's shoulder, eyes closed. "We are okay now."

[itsgrimeytime]

Scratch That Itch || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Available on AO3

Summary: Honestly, you weren't sure how it started. It wasn't a competition, at least you didn't think it was. There'd been something between you and Rick, something that people couldn't quite label. And maybe you batted your eyes the first time, and maybe he smirked the second. Either way, this was getting out of hand.

TWS: suggestive AF, FLIRTY, TENSION, innuendos, pregnancy mention (Maggie is pregnant in this one), violence, blood, mentions of guns, the undead, all things TWD.

[[A/N: Basically a 5 plus one. just wanted to establish how dumb it was that no one absolutely dived for this man. I think he'd be flattered, personally, if you took every chance you could to hit on him. Also FUCK the horror part of this show, Alexandria is paradise and Negan is not allowed. Thanks for your time !!! So, here's what I'd picture would play out. Enjoy!!]]

The first time you remember it happening was just a slip of the tongue. Or that's what you said anyway.

You'd known Rick for a while at that point; the group had picked you up somewhere after the prison falling -you'd been holed up in a shack for probably a year.

And fuck, you knew Rick Grimes was handsome. Everyone under the sun knew that (all broad shoulders and baby blues, his voice-), and you thought you'd gotten a hold of the reigns -at least enough for decency. Sure, you stared at him for way too long a lot of the time, and had been noticed by several people -including Rick. ("You've got something... uh, on your face," you scrambled, and honestly you'd never been more mortified in your life-)

It wasn't the first time it happened, looking back on it, but you couldn't quite picture earlier. He'd been too suave for it to be the first time and maybe he was just that suave, but you kind of hoped it wasn't you that started it. So, you'd live in your delusion.

You were tired, exhausted really. The past few days you couldn't sleep, mostly because you felt unsafe in Alexandria -it was all so new that it gave you a sense of unease. You, naturally, went on every run available to feel that burst of adrenaline that felt so familiar -killing walkers was what you knew.

After Rick caught up with your plans, he'd made you stay. That didn't mean you were sleeping though.

Hence the current you sat at a table in a meeting of such, he'd liked to have these every once in a while -establish the plans and how he was running Alexandria. Rick was nothing if not connected to his people. It was honorable if there was such a thing in the apocalypse.

You think it was Carol, maybe, who'd said it. Referring to the resources, you'd come to learn. Apparently, Rick had been planning too much -maybe they were talking about bullets, food? You really didn't know.

"We can't keep up with you-" she was so earnest, you should've known that it was more of a pressing issue, but instead, your brain running on day (four...?) of no sleep had... other connotations.

"Oh, I'm sure I could."

You thanked whatever god was left above that Carl was out on a run with Glenn that morning. Everyone else? You weren't so lucky.

It wasn't like you could pass it off as not... what it was. Your tone was perfectly readable, slurred actually from sleep which, in retrospect, only added to the... interpretation.

You hadn't even realized you said it, so far off in whatever fuzzy reality you were currently in to notice you'd spoken. Until, Maggie who was somewhere near the back burst into laughter -cutting it short by holding it back, but the break of noise was still there.

There was something that acknowledged the embarrassment, the silence and laughter only registering after a few heavy seconds. To say you were more awake than you had been in weeks was an understatement -your eyes felt pried open with a bundle of nerves sinking deep into your stomach. You might throw up.

Talk about mortifying.

You felt frozen in your seat, hesitating to make even a single move like he couldn't see that your eyes, once heavily lidded, were now open -detailing the woodwork like your life depended on it, but still awake.

And then, after a few agonizing seconds, the voice you had dreaded spoke up. Normally, you wouldn't have noticed. Trying to find an escape route from at least this room, the grand scheme would be leaving Alexandria but that was-

There was a calloused fingertip underneath your chin, guiding you to meet his eyes -amused in a way you hadn't seen before. His mouth had to be maybe an inch from yours -breaths mingling and his lips turning into a smirk, you willed yourself not to look.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, sweetheart."

The silence was even louder after that, nobody making a move like what was happening at this moment like it was a dream. It could definitely be a dream, you thought to yourself -eyes dipping to his lips in a moment of weakness.

Then, Daryl yelled, "Get a room, nobody wants to see 'at."

And Rick had laughed in a sort of crooked way, his smirk seamlessly budding into a grin. Without so much as a blink, he moved his finger and addressed Carol like nothing had happened.

There was something petty in you because you had taken that as a challenge. Well, you would when you could think straight again.

The next time was more casual, more natural. You'd always been attracted to Rick, but since then you felt so open to it like you'd crossed a boundary and he had... well, he had done what he did.

You still couldn't think about it too hard or your brain would turn to sludge.

You had the running theory that if you were fully present in the... flirting game? Was it a game? You didn't feel like it was, but then again, you had gotten competitive of all things.

Didn't matter, your theory was if you were more present, he'd been more affected. It's one thing to have a half-asleep person flirting with you, and another if it's a fully awake person. You were hoping to plan it out, get exactly the right words to say -it was going to be perfectly crafted to get a reaction out of Rick Grimes.

But, it didn't end up that way.

You were folding clothes, which was a bit of hell within itself but you were helping Maggie -she made it much more bearable. Even though just about every few minutes, she'd remind you of your... incident.

It was all in good fun, she was always giggling and teasing in a sister sort of way. You found yourself close to her pretty much as soon as you'd met her -catching her eye lingering on Glenn for a few seconds too long. They were well-established at that point, but you'd found an interest there in the budding... romance.

After she'd lost so much, your connection was nice, fresh, and easy in the apocalypse. It was light and airy when it needed to be, and strongly protective otherwise.

You'd threatened Glenn pretty much immediately after you met him -something about 'you hurt her and I'll grind your bones into paste'. It was in a joking tone, but he took it as you intended. (He'd grinned at you afterward, saying something about you fitting right in. Needless to say, you didn't get the desired effect.)

So, you sat -carefully detailing the piles as you worked through them, Glenn, Maggie, and a tiny pile of onesies. You smiled at it, as it continued to grow, and the conversation was easy to be in -nothing too substantial, just casual topics.

"Saw Glenn the other day," you remarked, remembering the deadly cold stare he'd passed onto some of the Alexandrians -Daryl falling close behind, "-you got lucky, Mags."

Maggie laughed, bright and loud -her face was somehow glowing, you guessed pregnancy would do that to you, "I know, he's... He's amazing."

"Hey, don't start on the ooey-gooey 'I found my soulmate in the apocalypse' shit," you groaned -you loved her, really you did, but with your mortification... you were truly going to die alone.

Maggie huffed, elbowing into your side, "You started it."

"Well, I wanted to talk about-" the door to Maggie and Glenn's swung open, revealing a Rick who'd just got done working -sweat on his brow and dirt on his jeans, "-something... different."

She, on the other hand, was acting completely natural, "We could get into those things if you want, I just figured-"

"Rick, thank god you're here-" you turned to him dramatically -still folding clothes without much extra thought, "-please rescue me from this torture. She's on her Glenn kick-"

He paused before a smooth smile melted upon his lips -you bit back the urge to watch it from there, salt and pepper beard stretched along his mouth, "When is she not on a Glenn kick?"

"You're not helping," you sighed, retorting with a passive playfulness, "-you're supposed to give me an out, you know. Save the day, isn't that what gentlemen do?"

Maggie spoke up, in agreement, "That's what gentlemen do."

Rick was staring at you, eyes flickering along your face and then settling on your hands. You were in your own space, carefully placing each fabric in as nice of a stack as possible -fingers swift and practiced. You could still feel it though.

His eyes heavy on every motion -following you like you were a shooting star in the sky, a sight to be seen. Jaw twitched, licking a line against his teeth, as a grin peeked up then, and you knew you were in for it.

"Well," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe casually as if the words were as true as the sun rising in the morning, "-I can think of a few better things to do wit' your hands."

You startled, the shirt (clearly Glenn's if the bright graphic had anything to say) held up in front of you -tips of your fingers tight on the fabric, almost too tight. Exhaling a breath, as you wordlessly stared at the shirt in front of you, you vowed to yourself you wouldn't freeze again. And somewhere deep in your head, your competitiveness sparked up in a single flame.

With the casual speed of folding the shirt, you wordlessly placed it into Glenn's pile -it was teetering dangerously, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, and stood.

Your steps were slow, deliberate, and despite the flurry of thoughts in your mind, you were clear-headed.

"What," you spoke, it was low and breathy (but there was no need to be loud, he was right in front of you, "-these?"

Rick hadn't spoken, as you wordlessly traced your nails across his arms, not enough to scratch -watching as the goosebumps lay in their wake. His flannel was rolled up to his elbows, and the skin there was golden from the sun -muscle underneath your fingertips, detailed and extensive.

His breath hitched, and you grinned, biting it back at the success on your side -a familiar buzz tossing your stomach in a pleasant sort of way. It spurred you on further.

"What did you have in mind, Grimes?" you were a breath away now, breath mingling and your fingers still absently tracing his skin -eyes intently locked on his.

Rick's face was still, except for the tiniest twitch of his nose -eyes clouded with something you hadn't quite grasped. It was intense and heavy, left a sort of burning on your skin -you felt a sort of flush there, but ignored it in favor of-

His eyes flicked to your lips, it was a languid gaze like he was watching the puffs of breaths. He was certainly not ashamed, eyes focused and for a second, you truly thought... maybe this wasn't a game. Maybe he would break then, and kiss you with a fever that you'd felt in the air. His own hands-

"Ahem," Maggie cleared her throat, "-as much as I enjoy this, really I do. I've got laundry that needs foldin'."

Before Rick could even blink out of his stupor, you'd smiled -wide and bright, "Rick will help you, won't you?"

He blinked, seeming to filter through the heavy fog, "I was actually lookin' for Glenn-"

"Don't worry," you hummed, still barely a breath away from him -voice low and eyes heavy, "-I'm sure he'll understand. Everyone gets distracted, right?"

Rick was hanging onto your words, eyes shining in a kind of way that made you itch to touch him -breathy and on the edge of something, "Right."

"Good," you grinned, patting his cheek -much like an aunt at Thanksgiving, a bit condescending. Simply, leaving him as he was, and stepping back -you could hear him mutter something not very gentlemanly.

Glancing towards Maggie, you spoke casually -remaining as unaffected to the naked eye, "Let me know if you need anything else, Mags."

Maggie rolled her eyes, patting the bed for Rick to sit, and Rick well, he was grinning at you -eyes light and smiley. But the smooth smirk that gathered at his lips said all it needed to: game on.

Count that as a point for you.

The next time was a bit more of a mixed bag, you'd done something stupid. An extra run, you'd gone out on your own and you were fine. Just a few cuts and bruises, some blood (not yours) encrusted into your skin.

But you were exhausted by the time you approached the Alexandria gate -feet dragging, and hands aching to reach your own home for a hot shower. Anything really to soothe the pain in your back, you'd fallen, not far. You doubted anything was broken, but you knew it'd bruise -big and purple. You just figured you'd ask around and get a heating pad to sleep on until further notice.

One night would be fine.

What you hadn't accounted for was Gabriel watching as you left and watching you sneak back in. Nor had you accounted for just who he would tell.

"What the hell-" Rick's tone was low, not loud enough to wake anyone -as he faced you in the streets, "-were you thinking?"

You didn't ask how he'd known, you figured at that point it was pointless, "I wasn't. I know, it's stupid. Look, it's nothing major. I'll just deal with it in the morn-"

There was a shuffling in the nearby houses, and you both froze in place -air rushing from your mouth in a worried heap. Waiting for a light to switch on, or a door to open, anything-

After a few seconds, nothing echoed in the silence, and you opened your mouth to continue.

But, Rick -gruff and almost a growl (it made the hair stand up on your arms), interrupted, "Not here."

Your mind was in a fuzz, as his hand wrapped around your wrist (long, calloused fingers-) guiding you among the barely lit streets. The sound of walkers was distant in the night, and with your heart beating so loud in your chest -you had a spare thought to wonder if he could hear it.

With a dazed glance, you realized that Rick was leading you to your home -a tiny piece of you was crushed at the notion of not being in his home, but with Judith so young... it made sense. Your fingers dragged briefly along the familiar splintered wood, where you'd carved out initials of some people you once knew.

The thought passed quickly, as he pulled you inside -only stopping to shut the door and guide you further. There was a spark in your mind at the idea that maybe he'd guide you somewhere more private for different reasons than to cuss you out in the early morning hours, you stopped the thought process before it could get much farther.

"What-" you began, eager for an explanation, and he simply shushed you -not even turning back, he was so focused on his destination.

You'd tried to be offended, but the sudden turn into your bedroom cut the thought short. His fingers still closed around your wrist, you wondered again if he could feel it -bumping against his skin. Loud and nervous, because of him-

And then wondering, what would he do if he did?

Before you could put too much into that discussion, he turned into your bathroom. It wasn't exactly small, but Rick (in his broad shoulder and leader stance glory) had to squish up against you. Even slightly, the buzz of his body warmth against yours sent a zip up your spine that made you incredibly aware of the... Rick around you.

Woodsy smell, and calloused fingertips, you almost spoke -on instinct, trying to cool the fog of your brain. Regain anything but the overwhelming sense of salty sweat and heavy worry delicate wrapped around you. And yet-

He spoke then, simple, direct, "Up."

At first, you hadn't known what he meant, standing in the bathroom -merely noticing how close his chest would get to yours when he breathed in, until your fingertips brushed upon the countertops of your sink.

Oh.

Your body had a mind of it's own, extending your arms outward as Rick lifted you. And even just for the sole second you stayed in his arms -flannel fabric rubbing against your side, and fingers curled under your arms, you felt a sort of bliss.

Rick was in no such state, stepping back from you with a hand reached out (making sure you were steady in your place) and all at once giving you a look over. You truly didn't know how you looked, the bruise blossoming on your back was the only thing that was causing an ache right now. You thoroughly doubted he could see that.

And a few other scratches on your face maybe? And your shoulders? It was a bit blurry now. You seemed to remember the scraping of nails, and a sting following suit.

Rick's face stayed unmoving, blue eyes flickering in the low light -brief across your skin but it still felt quite vulnerable. Broken open in front of eyes that kept looking at you -intent and focused; you kind of wanted to shrink into yourself, disguise from them.

He didn't let up, eyes heavy on the task at hand -a sort of determination set in his jaw, "First aid?"

"Yeah, uh-" you cleared your throat, tightening your fingers on the counter -a spare thought almost had you skimming through his hair, "-it should be in the cabinet. It's the same one that was here when we arrived, is that-"

"'s fine," he interrupted, swiftly pulling the tiny case out of the cabinet -eyes set across a few of the spare scratches, "-better than nothin'."

He stayed focused, sliding between your legs -urging your chin up with the tiniest of touches, and using the motion to look at some of your scrapes. Your head was swimming in a sort of fuzz, following the motion like you were boneless -maybe you were.

"They aren't that bad," you tried to urge, sinking into the intimacy of having someone care for you -it was probably the first time it'd happened to you without asking.

Rick hummed, carefully wiping at one on your forehead -the most tender of touches with calloused fingertips (the contradiction making your head spin), "And that means what?"

You faltered, "Well, we shouldn't waste resources on-"

"I've got plenty of bandages," he answered, concisely, "-if someone needs some, tell 'em to come to me."

"Rick, I can't ask you to do that," you relented, unfamiliar with this energy in such a vulnerable position -when you felt like this, you'd been batting eyelashes and he'd do that smirk that made you forget what you were saying. It wasn't... it wasn't this. The tenderness in his hands, and the act of it being so natural to him, not a bother.

"Ya didn't," he answered, simply, hands wiping away at your skin so gently you almost leaned into it. The urge to let him hold you like putty, let him care for you, he clearly knew how-

You chose not to speak then, eyes dashing along his face -following the crinkles, and a few blemishes. You were close enough to memorize them, you might as well. The thoughts of wondrously connecting them on his face, brushing your hands along -it was something that you hadn't thought of.

You wouldn't let yourself.

"Why are you doing this?"

Rick paused in his motions, eyes littering down to yours -trying to read the look on your face. He exhaled, heavily, and took a few steps back -it cleared your head a bit, the smell of Rick just a tad less overwhelming all your senses. (You kind of missed it.)

"Can I ask you somethin'?" he questioned, tossing what he could in the tiny trashcan without much semblance of thought towards it.

You stiffened at the shift of tone, retorting with a tight smile, "I thought I just did, but uh... yeah."

"This," his finger flicked between the two of you -your eyes followed it with an embarrassing fervor, "-it's... What is it to you?"

If he'd asked yesterday, you would've answered much differently. Not that you hadn't felt... this, it was just a much different perspective. You hadn't thought of this part of it, the protectiveness, the concern, because of course, Rick Grimes was a force to be reckoned with. And if you got... involved, you imagined it extended to you.

"'Could ask you the same question," you deflected, fingers trailing down your arm and messing with your sleeve -it was partially rolled up and you flicked the button between your fingers.

"'Kay," he hummed, stepping closer -in your space just as seamlessly as before but this was more intentional, "-we can do it this way."

Without another word, he grabbed your hand by the wrist -stopping the motion with a heavy sort of look, "Pay attention."

You froze, watching as Rick stood a breath away from you -blue intense in a way you'd become familiar with, but still somehow different. You nodded, wordlessly.

"I'm-" he started, before seeming to scrap it, "There are no conditions with me. If I go anywhere with you, and I mean anywhere-"

Your breath hitched.

"-I'm for everythin'. There's no one thing," Rick continued, seeming to not notice the implications affecting you, "-it's everythin'. Mornings, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and if I can swing it... dates."

You exhaled, your gaze softening on the man -he wasn't shying away, eyes intently on yours. There was a new energy in the air, something softer -not as suffocating on his smirk, but warmer, enveloping you.

"You-" you started, tone shaky in a bit of disbelief, "-everything?"

His hand matched up to yours, fingertips detailing your palms without so much as a look down. Biting back a smile (like you weren't hyperaware of his mouth being so close), he mumbled -low gravel brushing across your skin, "Everythin'."

It took you less than a second to process the words, heart heavy against your ribcage, "Okay."

He blinked, stunned, "You... That was quick, I wasn't expectin'-"

"Rick," you exhaled, a bit breathy at the slightest touch of his hands, "-have you seen yourself?"

He laughed, short but it still sent a pleasant buzz up your spine -his hand rested an inch from your leg on the counter edge. And somehow your mouth kept running at the closeness.

"You're the best man I've ever met," you hummed, more sentimental but still in the rush of his scent and the dizziness of his body warmth, "-although, I'd hope you keep your... promises. I will gladly take anything you offer."

"I'll keep 'em," his voice was low, bubbling something up in your stomach -eyes heavy but something new there, affectionate even, "-I never say anythin' I don't mean. And trust me, I mean it."

You still hadn't crossed that boundary, mere looks and touches that lasted a bit too long -you shivered at the thought. It was building, loud and yelling in your head every time you so much as saw Rick in the corner of your eye. Eyes lingering for much longer than usual, you felt a bit like you were stopped.

Rick was leading, it wasn't that hard to tell -every smooth hand on the small of your back, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and recently, without so much as a break in the conversation, pulling you into his lap.

There were perfectly good seats, many of them.

And yet, he sat you there -one of his big hands splayed along your side holding you steady and the other rubbing a soothing pattern in your thigh. The brush of his hands still ghosted over you even now, and if you focused hard enough, you could feel the drag of his fingertips on your skin.

Maggie hadn't let it go for weeks. Fuck, you hadn't let it go for weeks.

Maybe that's why you'd been grumpy that morning, the itching of having Rick Grimes's hands on you had set you a bit on edge. The building tension only made your throat close up and your brain sort of lack words, but you'd truly be dead before you'd give up.

You knew Rick was up early, he always was -set to do whatever he had to that day, or even to take care of Judith. Conveniently, though, Maggie had taken Judith that night and Carl had slept over at his new friend's house (Rick had been hard to convince on that front, but his weakness had always been his kids after all).

It was a Saturday, he liked to rest on Saturdays. You knew that because he'd sit out on his porch in the heat, sweat dripping from his face and the top few of his buttons undone to accost for the warmth.

Or, he totally could've known that you watched him like clockwork -eyes heavy on the touch of chest that showed and trailing the sweat down his collarbone. You were sure if you'd gone up to him when he sat like... that, you wouldn't have had such a clear mind.

He had that edge of cockiness now, he would unbutton his shirt just a little bit more to get your head spinning. It was in his character.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way into the neighboring house -the distant puff of sleep on your limbs but your mind had never been clearer. The door was unlocked, as you waltzed into the house -the emptiness was a sort of unfamiliar tone in the house, yet your body moved forward.

You made your way to the door -his bedroom, before you stopped. Your feet froze in place, as you followed the trail of the wood -seeming to realize just what you had done. Running into a man's house, and ending up at his bedroom door... in your pjs.

At the thought, your head swam and a blush of crimson flushed down to your collarbone. Biting your lip harder than you ever had in your life, your eyes lingered over the wood -hesitating to even imagine what was behind that door.

He had a white duvet, they all did.

You groaned, not even noticing the volume level, because it was early and you weren't thinking- and spun on your heel, ready to confront him later. At a more reasonable hour, and more reasonable clothing.

The door creaked open, and something in you stayed frozen to your spot, only halfway spun towards the door. It was obvious, big t-shirt and sweatpants that you had just woken up, and in that bliss, you thought that maybe the shadow hid you in the hallway. It was early enough to cast the world in a sort of darkness -halfway between the sun shining and the cloudy early morning.

And then he chuckled -a sort of warm gravelly tone, "You want some breakfast?"

You opened your mouth to respond, turning back to the door -eyes settling on the man in the frame. His figure seemed somehow towering, more than usual, curls a bit wild -your fingers itched to smooth it down. And he was shirtless, the expanse of his skin making your head flutter in a pleasant sort of way -slight marks of freckles etched across him, and plaid pants hanging low on his waist.

You felt your anger dissipate, despite the urge to hold onto it, sighing, "I... yes."

"Good," his voice was low, sleep-slurred, and you suddenly got the thought this was a very bad idea. His arm wrapped around you -body warm tripled with just skin, as he guided you into the kitchen.

You had beaten this before, the sort of buzz that Rick Grimes put you in, but he had never been so close and shirtless before. The bare skin of his side pressed into you like it was nothing, your mind spun -lucky he was guiding you so swiftly.

"You gonna tell me why you're 'ere?"

He was looking at you now, the kitchen was much brighter -open curtains, and light cabinets. He looked domestic in here, and the kitchen itself seemed like his. A few bowls dirty in the sink, dish towels hanging on the oven, some baby snacks sorted into little baggies, it all screamed Grimes household.

You cleared your throat, "You wanna know?"

"I asked," he smiled, toothy and bright -so warm and fuzzy, "-didn't I?"

"You're not," you paused, trying to coil down the nerves tight in your stomach, "-freaked out that I'm here?"

Rick laughed, somehow getting somewhat closer to you, hands rubbing up and down your arms without much extra thought. Before his face settled into something heavier, affection still high on his face, but something more familiar there.

"Y/N," the smooth upturn of his lips, as he gathered closer to you, his breaths quick despite his demeanor, "-if I had my way you'd be here every night and day."

Your heart was fast in your chest, heavy against your ribs and you thought about it for a second. Waking up here, dinners with Carl and Judith, Rick... everywhere. It wasn't... bad.

It was far from bad.

And that wasn't just Rick, it was everything. A domesticity with Rick that you had come to terms that you'd never get, and yet here it was. Laid beautifully in front of you.

Rick was nervous, you could tell. The shift on his feet, his eyes glazing over your face so intently like he was memorizing every shift but to try and find out what you were thinking. He had always looked at you, you realized.

The amount of that blue shine you'd seen with such intense focus wasn't just this. And he'd always touched you. If danger was present, he'd tug you behind him without a single extra thought. With the gentlest of touches when you were injured, he was sure to help you through it -if not there with you, he'd stick someone he trusted. (Insanely, he'd told Daryl once when they were trying to raid another camp and Daryl would've been immensely useful-) And the smirk, it wasn't new... You'd seen it in banter, he'd make you laugh so hard and he'd make that face like he was smug, like he was proud.

"Y/N?" he asked, a bit scared of the silence, "-Everythin' alright?"

"I-" you started, a bit startled at the revelation but confident in pursuing it, "This was never a competition to you, was it?"

Rick furrowed his eyebrows, reiterating, "I told you-"

"No, no," you interrupted, taking a few dangerous steps forward, "-before that. Before that meeting when I didn't sleep enough... You-"

You couldn't finish it, the word hanging heavy in the air, just on the cusp of your tongue. It would be real then, and you still weren't sure. You couldn't say it, you could just act like it never happened-

"I love you."

And there it was, silencing your train of your thought, as you looked at him with a sort of curiosity. He wasn't looking at you, eyes scrunched closed as he rubbed at his face, embarrassed almost. Like he had never intended to tell you, or never have you find out. Was he... Was he afraid?

"I-" he started, trailing off in a deep sigh, "I never meant for it to be... Shit, this looks so bad. I wasn't trying to convince you to feel the same. I just- It just started. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"Rick," you tried -but your voice was so quiet.

"I never. Fuck. It wasn't supposed to go this far-"

"Rick-" you urged, louder, but it didn't stop his pacing.

"It just happened, over the years... I couldn't stop it, everythin' just kept adding up. I kept lookin' at you, and I couldn't stop. And then, you were half asleep but you said it- I thought maybe... I just wanted it to be real-"

"Rick," you leaned up, placing your hands on the sides of his face and making him look at you, "-breathe."

He stopped, eyes wide and blue -looking right into yours, and following your whispers of instructions. Trying to keep his brain right here with you, you counted out his breaths and he looked with something you wouldn't have noticed before. But now you did.

"You with me?"

He swallowed, nervous, "Yes, but-"

And without a second thought, you pushed forward and put your lips on his. It was a quick motion, a bit frantic, so Rick had to adjust. He originally wasn't responding, still and unmoving against every molecule of your body trying to be close to yours.

Then he did.

Rick was smooth, moving his arms to wrap around your middle (urging you even closer) and dipping into you without much less restraint. Your hands brushed across his stubble and tucked behind his ears, twirled up in his curls like it would keep you grounded. And maybe it was. The simple press had evolved, a sort of emotion lingering in the touching skin. You itched to somehow be closer, to ignite that sort of attention everywhere. The sparks were alluring, and all you could think about was more.

Rick was on a different page, pulling back with a grin so bright you'd almost flinched at it. After a few moments of looking, you watched as he slowly leaned forward -your body naturally leaning forward a sort of bliss piercing over your mind.

And then, he swerved.

He pulled his hand out of its position against your back -brushing your stomach as it came to your throat. And then, as gently as a butterfly landing on your finger, he pressed his thumb into your pulse. It was currently crazy, running on the adrenaline of showing up here so early and his confession, and the kiss-

All he did was grin.

"So fast," leaning into your ear, huffs of breaths hot on your skin -you just knew that he knew what he was doing, "-that for me, sweetheart?"

You growled, frustration at its peak, and pulled back to match his face -at a sudden mix of affection and anger, you let your heart speak, "Fuck you, Grimes."

He merely smiled brighter, head tilting ever so closely, "Well, since you asked so nicely-"

[flightfoot]

Hi, since you're the ML fanfic authority around these parts, can you rec any fics based on the paris special? Even if its not finished or is abandoned it doesn't matter, i'm in desperate need of more paris special content. thank you!

Oooh, yes I can! Of course there aren't a ton of them as of yet, but there's still enough to scratch your itch, I hope! Luckily most of these I already have recs written out for, for the large rec lists I'm gonna publish at the end of the year (or well, the beginning of next year, actually). I'll tag everyone whose tumblr handles I know, but feel free to tag anyone I didn't get!

First, I'll start off with the complete fics.

If We Run, We Run Together by @heartfulselkie

The mockery of his laugh had always made her want to punch Griffe in the face, but now the thought wasn't even crossing her mind. The teasing tone in his voice and smugness of his grin had faded, his cocky attitude dissolving into something more genuine. Was that what his real laugh sounded like? Was that what his real smile looked like?

I loved seeing Toxinelle and Griffe Noir awkwardly start relearning how to be around each other, without hiding behind uncaring facades. They've got a long way to go, but they're getting there!

---

Back to Life (Back to Reality) by @2manyfandoms2count

Toxinelle and Griffe Noire return to their world after their night in the canon timeline.

I loved seeing these two talking a bit more amiably, especially with Toxinelle commenting on how silent Adrien is as a civilian. That doesn’t appear to be something he really wants to dwell on.

---

Here’s Hopes For Moving Forward... by allthingsasian

Gabriel finds out his son is Claw Noir.

Set just after the Paris Special...

I loved seeing Gabriel’s perspective here, finding Claw Noir broken down, crying on his son’s bedroom floor, and realizing what that means. How badly Adrien must have been hurting, how he’d been lashing out and hurting everyone he could reach, including himself, with the self-cataclysm. 

But now, Adrien and Gabriel are ready to talk, with Adrien getting the hug he’s sorely needed for a long time.

---

The Supreme Movers by PearlO_O

Continuation of Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir.

Adrien and Marinette battle with the emotional aftermath of meeting their alternate selves.

This was an excellent follow-up to the Paris Special! To be clear, the Adrien and Marinette here are Claw Noir and Shady Bug, not the ones from the show we’ve been following all this time. I really liked Adrien and Marinette reflecting and recontextualizing how their parents have been acting in more positive ways, and getting more positive responses in turn, along with them reassessing how they’ve been acting and reaching out to Alya and Nino. There’s this theme of “it doesn’t matter who we were or what mistakes we made, but who we want to be and that we keep moving forward”.

---

Keep Me Safe Inside by RoFair

Adrien Agreste, formally known as Claw Noir attempts to get to know the girl he admires behind the mask of the reformed Shadybug. He has a plan, but it is derailed by a blonde bully.

I love how smitten Adrien is with Marinette! He might have a lot of bravado as Claw Noir, but he’s kinda shy as a civilian. Of course, that all goes out the window when Marinette needs help - like when she’s being bullied and is nearing a breakdown.

---

Eat, Pray, Duck by @trishacollins

Gabriel Agreste split his twin sons apart when his wife died, keeping one with him and sending one to London with his sister. Unfortunately, the Supreme was not willing to let this be.

He wanted a matched set.

Felix is a weapon, a servant of the Supreme. On a mission to retrieve the stolen Miraculous.

In a world that has outlawed kindness, sometimes the most dangerous person is the one who chooses it anyway.

I love this glimpse at what might have been going on with Felix back in Shadybug and Claw Noir’s world, I did wonder what might have been going on with him. Poor kid, he managed to have it even worse than he did in canon. I really loved seeing his interactions with Luka, the Couffaines rebel through kindness it seems!

---

Friends who kiss by @kuromori4

It’s been about a week since Shadybug and Claw Noir’s goody-two shoes alternate universe counterparts convinced them to betray the Supreme and join the Resistance. And while they are determined to be better… It hasn’t been easy. While both Shadybug and Claw Noir have a lifetime of problems to untangle if they want to be good people, they realize a new look doesn’t magically make you a nice person. As if that weren’t hard enough to deal with, the two ex-Villains struggle with defining what their new relationship might be.

I love the two of them talking things out, and struggling. Shadybug in particular is still very prickly and prone to making snide comments about Adrien, even though she doesn’t really know him, and she still hasn’t totally come to terms with her own true feelings about Claw Noir. Though by the end they um. Figure that out, I guess you could say XD.

---

These next two are WIPS, I've really been enjoying them so far!

Cracked White Porcelain by between

The basement is a wreck by the time they return and it takes her a moment to remember where their last fight in their world had really led them. "Remind me, please," Noir says, voice still but a fragile tingle against her ear. "To think about it, later." "You'll have to," she agrees with a nod. His hand is shaking in hers. "I know." They both pretend they aren't holding onto each other as they blindly, foolishly, follow their enemy, their ally, through the shadows of their city. (An act of treason against the Supreme doesn't leave you with a lot of places to go. Giving up on your goals is a lot easier when the consequences of your actions haven't caught up to you yet.)

This fic mostly covers what happens immediately after they return to Hesperia's HQ, with Marinette and Adrien freeing their kwamis of their gags, for starters. Marinette and Adrien apparently figured out that Hesperia is Gabriel before the events of the Paris Special here (since well, his HQ is beneath the Agreste Mansion, so that makes it pretty obvious) while Gabriel still has no clue, which leads to an interesting dynamic, especially since Gabriel's worried about his son while having no clue that he's right in front of him.

---

One step forward, no steps back by @theerurishipper

Wanting to move on, wanting to choose to be part of the world, meant looking at it. And it also meant he had to look at all the fear, the heartache, the terror and rage and anger that he had caused. And he’s not sure how to come back from it all. It all feels so hopeless, like there’s nothing he can do anymore. But he can’t go back either. Not to that life. Not after everything, not knowing that something better is possible. For better or worse, that optimistic, hopeful part of him that he’d thought long lost has awakened once more, and holding onto it feels much better than the consuming despair that had plagued him for months. But it all feels like it could fall apart any second. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bear losing himself a second time.

This fic's from Adrien's perspective, dealing with the new changes in his life. You get a good look into the mindset that led him to becoming Claw Noir to begin with, how he was breaking down and lashing out at everyone around him, and had little concern for even his own survival.

Things are getting better though, slowly. Nino's willing to hear him out, and he and Marinette are really talking, in ways they didn't before, when they were villains. Even his relationship with Plagg's on the mend, and Hesperia's acting like a father to him (which well, considering what we readers know of their relationship... XD).

But the Supreme isn't willing to just let Adrien skip off to a happier future...

[velvet-glory]

Thank you undueodium for the template! It was a ton of fun to fill out 😊

Extensive thoughts below the cut! (Warning: very long...)

Necessary disclaimer that all of this is of course just my headcanons and how I perceive the characters. I'm not claiming I know the Ultimate Truth™, but these two guys have claimed basically 99% of my brain capacity in the past 7 months and mean the world to me. I thoroughly enjoy picking them apart and analyzing them both as individuals and a pair because they scratch an itch in my brain that I simply can't get enough of. But as with all things, we resonate with different things in fiction and in life. Anyways, enjoy!

Boothill being ace

This is something I always worried talking about in public, since talking about sexualities in fandom spaces feels like SUCH a risky topic I usually don't even want to open, but it's very important to me. Being ace myself, I personally see him as sex-neutral to favorable. I think it's an activity he didn't mind doing, and even saw as occasional fun, but it wasn't anything really special. He preferred building strong emotional bonds with his family and friends. Romantically I think he had one or two crushes, but never really anything serious. The life he lived didn't allow for it, and the (queer)platonic bonds he had were more than enough.

With the change of his body, the physical aspect fell away, so it’s purely a mental thing now, and he already had next to no desire for it before. When the opportunity arose, maybe he would take up the offer, but he was also just too busy wanting to hunt Oswaldo down to indulge in pleasures like those too often. He didn't see people in that light and didn't miss it. (I also think that there were some... more forceful people that were curious and really wanted to experience what his cyborg body was capable of, which only turned him away from sex even more. So now it became a conscious avoidance, too, on top of the lack of attraction and medium-to-low libido.)

Sex really only starts to feel special once he gets with Aventurine, as he sees it as a way to bond and feel loved. I think sex is a very integral part of their relationship (but if I got into that, this would get WAY too long). It starts to feel even more fun and Aventurine is mighty pretty—seeing him blush and gasp and moan is what's rewarding, not the physical aspect and involvement of his body (especially since I hc that he can't feel anything below the neck aside from maybe his groin thanks to emulators). It's also why I see him more as a service top—Aven's pleasure comes first. That's what makes him feel pleasure. That gets him that mental high.

Aventurine riding him feels good not because of the actual act and feeling, but what it stands for. The power Aventurine holds over him. The intimacy it embodies. Knowing that he is the one to reduce Aventurine into a sweaty, moaning mess. How they both lay everything bare for one another.

There's also the fun aspect to him realizing that sex actually does matter to him in the context with Aventurine. Where losing his genitals wasn't really something he cared about too much in regards to sex (this can also be seen through a gender lens, but I'll be focusing on it in a sexuality way), some insecurity may creep in. If it matters to the person he loves, of course it also matters to him. He just becomes very aware of... everything. About their differences, both in the short-term and long-term. How that will affect the... everything they have. Whatever they have. There's a lot to unpack here. I promise I'm trying to keep all of this as brief as I can but I'm failing.

Boothill and touch

For Boothill, it's not about the actual, physical sensation, but about the intention behind it. Getting kissed on the inside of his wrist, where a pulse would be, is special. Where his heart beats even more so. To have Aventurine treat his body with care and affection—treating it human, despite him not even seeing himself as alive anymore, nevermind human, even if he laughs about it—is what gets to him. It also makes his spine such an insanely vulnerable place to kiss and touch, since he has to expose his back for it. The places his body has been scratched/damaged, like on his lower abdomen, are also highlights.

Basically anything goes and is fine to touch, but the more vulnerable a place would be when made out of flesh, the more intense he feels about it being touched and kissed. And especially his neck and face, since those are still human.

To be accepted and appreciated for what he is now, and not like he is lacking anything, is what matters. And Aventurine does just that.

Aventurine being demi

Aventurine being demi feels kinda self-explanatory. Even if he may use sexuality and sensuality as a tool, I don't think he truly experiences that attraction until a strong bond has formed, which... has frankly not happened often, if ever. Nevermind romantically. That requires you to be vulnerable and allow others close to your heart. That's what made the bars a little difficult to fill out cause... there's so many walls he has put up, but he acts in certain ways. He acts flirty and sensual, but it's not genuine. It is and it isn't. He's a walking paradox and probably struggles to really understand himself, too.

But Boothill makes him feel safe, which makes him want the man carnally (lol). It lowers the walls around his heart. Nothing sexier than explicitly being asked for consent and being respected and loved by a sexy cyborg who wears his heart on his sleeve, I'm afraid. Plus, I think Boothill not actually having a human body massively helps him in overcoming the first hurdle regarding his trauma.

Aventurine's sensitive areas

Similar to Boothill, the more vulnerable an area, the more it means for it to be touched. Especially his chest, hips, inner thighs and neck are sensitive and feel the best. Boothill kissed his stomach once and he has been obsessed ever since. His lower back? Yes please. Especially if Boothill's mouth and hands are busy elsewhere. A kiss to the center of his palm speaks louder than any words and it makes his heart ache.

I think his arm pits are ticklish so they're a bit of a no, but it's a soft no. Because he trusts Boothill so much, I think he's really fine with anything, at least down the road. It does take a little while to build up to this, but fortunately Boothill is very patient and understanding in this regard ☺️

Kinks & Limits

Limits

This is actually a section I struggled a lot with. If it's a hard limit, I don't even go there, and don't even think of it. So I feel like there are likely some others that I didn't put down because well... I just don't think of them cause they're such a no lmao.

For soft limits, especially in regards to Aventurine, I think it's pretty complicated. He has some self-destructive tendencies. There's a lot of inner turmoil because of his trauma—he wants and he doesn't. He wants to be tossed around, challenges you to use him, because it's what he's used to, but he also doesn't. This would get way way too long if I went more in-depth on how I see Aventurine and his relationship to intimacy as a whole, but. It's just extremely complicated, and I feel like someone like Boothill is exactly what he needs to heal from all of that. Someone that allows him to let loose, to differentiate past trauma and future pleasure. Because he's safe. And eventually, he will overcome those fears that hold him back from truly letting go. Even if it will take time. (I'm speaking in general here and Aventurine's relationship to physical and emotional intimacy, and not about the specific limits I wrote down.)

They both definitely have their limits, but also... I dunno. It just heavily depends on the situation and how long they've been together. I think there's some kinks they would eventually explore in a safe way, especially in regards to bondage. Some mild power play, maybe—which would especially be a big step for Aventurine.

Kinks

Aventurine likes to receive, but also to see Boothill break, either in a submissive or dominant way. He likes to walk on the fine line, to see how much he can get away with. To push and prod until the tables are turned. Likes to see Boothill whimper but also have Boothill hold his hips a little tighter as he's pushed into the mattress or nearest surface. He likes the game, the risk. To gain and lose control.

And Boothill plays into it beautifully, because he aims to please first and foremost. He always has to hold back because he really could very easily seriously hurt Aventurine. His body is made to kill and that's a risk that Aventurine really loves.

As for Boothill's kinks... well! When most of your body is numb to pleasure, why wouldn't you want to practically short-circuit thanks to your very very pretty partner who also activates your lizard brain.

Dynamics

Boothill is very very attentive and fully focused on Aventurine—catches every little movement, every sign of discomfort—which is why I think he would be extremely good in bed, even if he has less overall experience. They are essentially tied in skill, though. (But also, you know. There's the fact that Boothill can get fun little upgrades for his privates, which Aventurine definitely enjoys ☺️)

I'm a switch and vers enthusiast, and while I do think they have a preference, in the end, it's about connection and about mixing things up. About having fun together and bonding.

When Aventurine submits, he does it to fully submit and be at Boothill's mercy because he knows he will be safe. Giving up the power, when he was always forced to be strong and stand alone, brings a sense of relief. But I do think that generally, he prefers to be in control, especially in the beginning. When topping, he tends to lean more towards service top as well, although a less dominant one. Boothill as a service top can be both dominant and submissive, though—whichever Aventurine wants in that moment, since he aims to please. When he bottoms, it really just depends on the mood, but I think generally he's less intense than Aventurine. He definitely teases Aventurine quite a bit like that, hehe...

Boothill has a cyborg body, so... he can do any speed and pace ☺️ Spiritually, Aventurine wishes he also had more stamina and endurance, but unfortunately he needs to catch his breath a little sooner.

I think Aventurine can be both loud and quiet (which Boothill especially loves to get him to that point), while Aventurine loves when he manages to get Boothill to be a little louder.

Miscellaneous thoughts

I would've basically have to fill this template out twice because honestly... How they are with others before meeting each other, how they are with one another at the start, after they get together, and how that changes them in general are all different. They constantly evolve and grow. There's so many facets to them, it was hard to pin it down to just a few dots. But I had already spent a good... I wanna say 11 or more hours on this, on top of the time it took to write all of this, so I didn't want to keep tweaking it even more :') So I’ll just be talking about a handful of things.

Who does what

This was a fun section to think about. Since I imagine that Aventurine fell first, I feel like he was both not subtle at all about his affections but also trying to play them off as just his usual behavior. Boothill, who is a little slower on catching on to his own feelings, really struggled with that. Although after he does realize his own feelings, and wonders if maybe it's reciprocated after all, he really doesn't wait around too much and goes for it.

I think Aventurine likes the idea of getting married, but the reality is just tricky with the lives they live. Commitment is also just scary to him, even if he does care deeply about Boothill (which is also very scary). Boothill also never considered to be settling down somewhere since he expected to lose his life on his quest for revenge, but Aventurine makes him wonder. But whether they live a domestic life somewhere quiet or enjoy traveling the stars together, one thing he knows for sure: he wants Aventurine at his side for it.

Boothill had a lot of siblings, both younger and older, so I think he has a massive soft spot for kids. Having a couple of rascals would be fun, but only if Aventurine was on-board as well. Similar to marriage, I think Aventurine likes the idea, but might doubt if he'd even be worthy or able of being a parent. Whether they do eventually adopt or not isn't as important as simply being together, though.

—

I think I'm gonna leave it here because this already got WAY longer than I intended for it to be... I just can't help but start yapping once these two are involved. Maybe I'll go back in the future and talk about a few more things, but if you actually got this far, then kudos to you 😭 Thank you for reading! I love avenhill a little bit if it wasn't obvious already...

[beardysuits]

Another One for the Books

"Mmmm yeah man!" Michael yelled out. He was already balls deep inside and fucking my hole like a piston. I was already trembling at the knees, gripping at the kitchen table, my knuckles turning white as their hold weakened. I had wrapped my hand around my borrowed cock and slid it down the shaft, enveloping it with my palm which was already lubricated in precum.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. See my friend Harry and I had stumbled upon some pretty unique powers one day while perusing the internet. We were two pretty horny, and admittedly broke, college students, who were looking for a cheap way to have some fun. That's when we stumbled upon this new meditation that promised to teach us how to "astral project" our bodies. It was a dull Friday night and we had no plans, so we figured, why not?

At first it felt like we were just falling asleep and I gave up. When I tried to wake him up though, he was out like a rock. No matter how much I shook him, he wasn't moving. I freaked out and since he still lived with his dad, I called out to him. He walked in and I immediately sensed something was off. His dad was looking at his hands and touching his face, then his eyes grew wide as he saw his son out cold.

"Adam?" He asked in his gruff voice.

"Mr. Reynolds, I-I-I... I think something's up with Harry!" I yelled back.

"Yeah, I know," he said before pulling me up and gripping my biceps. "I'm in here," he said, putting his hand to his chest.

I was completely lost before realizing it must have worked! After getting Harry to calm down, we started to play with his dad. It was innocent at first, making him say stupid stuff and Harry goofing around. But after a few beers, we got a lot more handsy, and I found myself pushed under Mr. Reynolds as his belly pressed into his back and his fat cock was opening my hole so fucking wide.

Since then, Harry guided me on how he was able to push out his essence and take over his dad. After a few sessions, I finally managed to do it! We then began our Friday ritual of cruising whatever public spot we liked, finding two guys we both liked and taking them over. Usually Harry took over the older or bigger guy, and I always liked taking over the smaller counterpart. I was pretty overweight, so squeezing myself into a tight little body and feeling myself up was a huge turn on and escape. Harry on the other hand was a 5'5" twig, so taking over a daddy scratched a similar itch for him.

That brings us to Michael and Jax. At least, that's what we called them. We didn't know their real names, didn't really care to. All we knew was they were a father and son we saw this afternoon at the hardware store and they were just another pair of playthings for us. We followed them from the store. The dad, who we coined Michael, drove a huge ram truck. Harry definitely liked doing the backstory more than I did.

To him, Michael was a divorcee who left Jax and his wife when the kid was only 5. They reconnected when Jax hit college and takes him around town to try and bond. Whatever got Harry into the headspace he needed to make me his little bitch, I didn't care. All I wanted was for the two to "bond" like they never did before.

We got back to their place, a small ranch home in the suburbs. Harry drove a van which we could park down the road and start our projection that night from the back compartment. Once night fell, we began.

Astral projection is similar to falling asleep, you just need to keep in mind your spirit and detach it from your physical form. It was easy for us now and soon we were floating above our targets' house. I zoomed into the garage and immediately found Michael lifting weights. He was grunting and his body glistened. I could see the pump in his chest and arms, the veins in his neck bulging as he strained against the rack. I zoomed to the other room and found Harry licking his lips as he watched Jax walk around the kitchen shirtless.

"Your guy's in the garage," I told him. "And I think you'll like what you see." I winked and flexed my arms.

"It's like they knew we were coming," Harry joked, before zipping past me. I turned my attention to Jax and tried to find the best point of entry. Not like I had to look for long though, I could see even through the gym shorts, Jax's bubble ass made peaks against the fabric. In my current form, I could do minor manipulation of physical objects. Such as the box of crackers I saw on top of the fridge.

I pushed them over, making them fall right behind Jax who immediately turned to the sound. He sauntered over and bent down to pick up the box. Perfect! With his ass spread and ready for the taking, I dove in head first.

He immediately shot up and grabbed at his ass, feeling my essence stuffing him.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled out. God, his voice sounded just like every frat bro on campus; it made me drool. I wiggled further in, Jax was unable to stop me. His spirit could fight me, but his body couldn't grasp at anything more than thin air. I slipped inside and situated myself. I had become a pro at this point and slipped what was essentially my limbs into their places. Jax had fallen over and was curled into a ball, trying to concentrate and push me out, but his mind was useless. I shot my head up and took in a sharp breath of air with my new lungs.

My face was parallel to the floor, but pushing myself up with my new beefy arms, I stood up and got used to my new footing. It was also so freeing to feel myself in a smaller and lighter body. It almost felt like I was floating.

"You okay son?" I heard a gruff voice ask behind me. Michael stood behind me, looking concerned, his body shimmering and covered in sweat. I cleared my throat, getting used to my new voice.

"Yeah dad just uh, cramps," I told him. I was almost certain Harry was in there already, but once he finished a takeover, he was in character. He was Michael until he finally ejected himself. Sometimes I wasn't even sure if was in there, which could lead to some potentially terrifying scenarios.

"Okay well, just take it easy," Michael said. He stepped closer. "Listen, I did want to talk to you," he continued. He leaned a hand on the kitchen island and loomed closer.

"Sure Dad, what's up?" I asked him, copying his stance. Our hands were only about a foot apart, our bodies only a step away.

"I know it's been rough trying to reconnect since I came back. You have every right to resent me, but I'm really grateful that you're trying," he said. I shrugged.

"I mean yeah, it's weird," I told him. "But I've really enjoyed getting to know you and get closer. You were gone so long though, it's sometimes like you're not even my dad. Just, some guy I live with now." I tilted his head, his hand moving an inch closer to mine.

"I understand. Is there anything I could do to help make this less awkward for you? Help us get a little closer?" he asked. I moved my fingers closer to his, mere inches separated them.

"Well truthfully, I uhhhh.... kind of like what you've been doing. I mean look at you now. I always walk around without a shirt, but seeing you do the same, makes me feel like we're relating. It's good to see you like, be vulnerable. To see just.. more of you."

He cocked his head to the side.

"Do you want to see more?" he asked. I bit my lower lip and nodded. He lifted his arm up and showed off his hairy pit, the aroma of his musk permeated and trailed into my nostril.

"Do you want to smell more?" he pressed. I nodded again and stepped forward. He cradled the back of my head and guided me to the smell. I inhaled deeply, keeping my tongue in place. That would come with time.

"That's a good boy," he cooed at me. He rubbed the back of my head softly, comforting me as I inhaled more of him. He smelled so fucking good. Fresh from his workout and a whole day of walking around before that. I could smell the faint trace of his cologne as it tickled at me from his neck. He pulled back my head and locked eyes with me.

"Show daddy how much you want him around," he commanded. I was about 5 inches shorter than him. I leaned up and pressed my lips to his. His tongue swirled the inside of my mouth as mine submitted to his. He cradled my lower back in his beefy arms and pressed me tightly into him. I could feel his sweat coating my slim frame. Reaching around, I wrapped my arms behind his back and clawed at his hairy backside.

Pulling me away, he took my hand and lead me to the living room. We simultaneously kicked off our gym shorts, each of our cocks bounced out and bobbed as we walked. I hadn't even seen my new one yet, it was so fucking pretty. Jax kept himself trimmed, but his balls were decorated with blonde hair. To no surprise, Michael's dick was thick like a bull's, matching the rest of his body. Even his ass was framed like grade A beef! I never really took over guys like him, but I sure did love fucking them.

Michael led me to the couch and laid back, lifting his arm over his head. I laid on top, unable to control myself anymore, going to town on his pits. My tongue was lapping up every bead of sweat I could find.

I was so fucking hungry for him! I made Jax swallow piece after piece of his father's sweat. He just chuckled as he felt his good boy enjoying his new treat. I reached down and began to stroke his cock, which had begun to throb. He was leaking, leaving plenty of lubricant as I made Jax wrap his jock hands around his father's shaft.

Michael let out a booming laugh as he watched his son become a little bitch and submit to him.

He patted me on the shoulder.

"That's enough boy, you know what daddy wants now," he told me. I pulled back and nodded.

Walking off, I found the kitchen table and decided to see how flexible Jax was. Placing my right foot up on the table, I kept myself balanced on the ground. It was fucking perfect. I could feel a breeze grace my hole as I presented myself to daddy.

Michael grumbled from behind me, I could hear his heavy footsteps as he walked over to me. I heard the sound of him spitting and lubing up his daddy cock. There was a hand clasped on my shoulder, and then the teasing of a dick as it played with my hole. I was about to turn around and watch when I felt the pressure of Michael's dick pressed against me. I winced, my virgin hole stretching for what I assumed was the first time.

"Goooooood boy," Michael told me. He wrapped his other arm around my chest and pressed slowly into me. I moaned like a bitch, feeling my dad fill me up. Once I felt his thighs against my ass, I knew he was in. That, and the roar which came from Michael, and the throb of his cock against my prostate.

"That's it boy!" He shouted, before pulling out. He kept up a steady pace, the head of his cock pushing further with each thrust.

"Fuck daddy!" I yelled out as I gripped onto the table.

"Mmmm FUCK man!" Michael yelled out, beginning to piston in and out of me. See? Now you're all caught up.

I was pumping my own cock and could feel the pressure build. How was I already so close??

"Dad? I think I'm going to cum!" I yelled out.

"Fucking cum for me son!" he yelled back. It was like his cock was pressing against my stomach he was so deep! I let go of my cock and watched as a fountain of cum spread across the table.

"Here it fucking comes boy!" Michael yelled out. He wrapped both of his beefy arms across my chest and yelled out. I could feel his seed instantly begin to coat my insides, spreading out and dominating me. His sweat formed even further and drenched my back. I could feel his stomach as it pressed into my back with each breath of his.

He slid out of me and staggered back, laughing. I could hear him catching his breath. I took my leg down from the table, shaking as my blood tried to get back in place. I almost fell over put was caught by Michael's arms.

"Easy there boy," he told me, chuckling. I looked up and saw him towering over me. I smiled as he pulled me up.

"Thanks dad," I said, before giving him one final kiss. "We should probably head out." He shrugged and helped me stand fully up.

"Maybe, or we just enjoy ourself a little more," he said. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"How about we run a few more errands? Spend some time with my boy, drive him around in my truck. Maybe play with his ass as we do some shopping?" I was immediately intrigued by the idea, but there was a concern nagging at me.

"What about our real selves?" I asked.

"They'll be fine, they're not going anywhere," he assured me. I knew it was risky, but fuck I loved being Jax and I wanted to keep this up. So, what's the worst that could happen?

Michael was cradling my lower back and holding me close, our new musks mingling with one another. I chuckled and stuck my tongue into his mouth.

"Okay dad, let's do it," I told him. He laughed and hoisted me up effortlessly. My thighs were cradled into his arms as I finally looked down at him.

"Come on son, lemme treat you."

[fallenclan]

random cat-specific headcanons

or i guess. canons. since im the guy who made the clan.

-silverbelly is extremely soft on any cat/kit that joined the clan young. especially if they're around the same age she joined the clan, 3 moons. she always takes extra care to show them around camp and assure them if they ever need medical attention she wants them to come and tell her, and she promises she'll help. because of this, a lot of cats who joined the clan young are also very soft on her in return, and will sometimes just come to the medicine den to hang out.

-Wormshade has TERRIBLE allergies. the worst. in newleaf his nose gets extremely itchy and he keeps scratching it even when Flyspots keeps telling him not to. sometimes it makes the scar on his nose hurt from all the itching, poor fella. his kids (Beefreckle & Mothspots) make fun of him endlessly for this.

-on the topic of FlyWorm. flyspots absolutely BEGGED wormshade to name their kits after bugs when they came along. wormshade wanted to name one of them after Nick, but agreed that Nickkit was a weird name and they went with bugs instead.

-Maplestar & Applebranch both forget that Honeygleam is dead sometimes. every so often they'll be hanging out and instinctively go to say something to him and find he isn't there.

-Silverbelly still has some of the dried herbs that were always stuck in Stormsight's pelt. she found them on her fur after the vigil and tucked them away in a little crevice. sometimes when she's really missing him she'll lie down and rest her face on them.

-about 80% of the clan is under the impression that Juniperfoot, Myrtleclaw, and Sandsnap are dating. this includes Ospreyswipe (Juniper's brother).

-when Hawkwish lost her leg, Applebranch helped her with her physical therapy, giving her tips on how to improve her balance after losing a limb. this brought them really close, and now sometimes Hawkwish will go to the elder's den after a long day and hang out with her grandma, who is happy to listen to her vent, chatter on about nothing, or just sit in silence and wash her granddaughter's ears.

-Eaglestripe & Hawkwish were never very close to Rabbitpounce. he didn't mean to have kits with Molesong, and (with Molesong's permission) wasn't really interested in raising them. he was more like the socially awkward uncle to them than a dad. despite this, Rabbitpounce was the one who gave Eaglestripe her full name when she went to receive it at the glow-cave.

-Willowsplash and Bub are the WORST EVER cats to get in an argument with (closely followed by Bluefern, Evie, & Newtscar). they will not only verbally tear you to shreds (backing each other up the entire time) but they find any and all attempts at retaliation funny. absolutely infuriating couple that loves to get silly with it.

-Bluefern and Newtscar were best friends since they were kits. they grew up in the nursery together, and then they were apprentices together. when Evie joined the clan, they would sometimes laugh about how they both had a crush on him, and along the way, they realized they both had a crush on each other, too. they became mates with the hope that Evie would soon join them.

-Waspflight often feels overshadowed by her siblings, but covers up this insecurity with an energetic personality, and lots and lots of jokes. she had a little crush on Salmonskip when they were apprentices, but grew to see her more as a sister when Salmon and Moosefall started to date.

-Mossfrog isn't sure how she feels about possibly being deputy one day. she knows that a lot of the clan expects her to, since she was always a prodigy and graduated so early, but she's terrified of the idea of being in charge of an entire clan, even if she does like the idea of being able to look after them. sometimes she wishes she could be deputy without the expectation of being leader.

-most of the cats around his age have a crush on Myrtleclaw. hes charming like that.

-out of all of her siblings, Hailcrash was always the least close with Moonstep. they got along, sure, but they weren't best friends--despite this, she still relies on him a lot, even if she's a little older than him (Moonstep is the youngest of all Toro's kits).

-Maplestar was always the leader of the bunch (the bunch being him, Honeygleam, Applebranch, Silverbelly, & Dawnshine) when they were young. he was the most mature, and a good decision maker, so he often found himself reining in Honey, Dawn, and Apple's chaos, and stepping up when Silver was too shy to. because of this, they would sometimes jokingly call him Maplestar. Applebranch always secretly thought he'd make a great leader; turns out she was right.

-Boulderstep still sometimes worries that clanborn Fallenclan cats don't trust him, since he came from a clan that was, at the time, at war with them. Fallenclan is on better terms with Shallowclan now, but he still makes a point to avoid their borders, and not mingle with any Shallowclan cats at gatherings.

-on the topic of gatherings. the first gathering that Maplestar attended as leader, he almost called it quits and went home. he still thinks that he's never felt as awful as he did in that moment, as all the clans watched him step out of the crowd and jump to the top of the gathering rock, where his father had stood for as long as most cats could remember. the only thing that kept him there was Applebranch grinning at him from the crowd, even as she cried.

-though Sorrelstem still misses Otterslip, the memory of him has become less soft over time. she never went out looking for him (though she often wanted to), but she always told her kits that he was on the right side of history. sometimes, as time went on, she wondered if that was true.

-Teddyfluff was glad that Otterslip got exiled. he gave him the creeps. he would rather die than admit this to his beloved wife.

-Crowflame tries not to show it, but sometimes he's insecure about his scars. he's easily the most scarred cat in the clan, and some cats (especially kits and apprentices) will stare at him, or make a remark. Blizzardfang (his mate) has become excellent at figuring out when he's feeling especially awful. if complimenting how handsome he looks that day doesn't work, she'll simply stand on his scarred side and press up against him until her fur covers the injury. he pretends to be mad, but secretly loves being close to her.

-Yewberry has a very short temper. Brambletuft has helped him soften it a little, but he still finds himself set off by some things--particularly if any cat brings up Otterslip. he'll snap at them to shut up and forget about the past, and usually stalk off. more lighthearted things that make him mad are when Ivybounce calls him "little brother" (he's only a few minutes younger, thank you very much) or when people laugh about how much bigger Brambletuft is than him (he is NOT that small. fuck you).

i will be doing more of these. peace & love forever

[myloveleeknow]

just for anyone wondering (life update)

no, i did not shift on that thursday. no, i'm not angry in the slightest. i unfortunately had to face one of my extreme fears (heights) because we were going on a trip to ZA the 26th. i failed every single time after thursday, but i wasn't bothered a bit! the two plane rides were much more underwhelming than i thought, and i managed to stay positive throughout the beginning of my trip when i felt most out of place!

i would get that feeling like "oh my god i want out", "this isn't where i wanna be", "i don't wanna live this life", and immediately i would remind myself i could shift! it was like those negative thoughts didn't affect me anymore.

anyway by this point in my recap it's a happy new year! even though that day i was so drained and sad (i had just lost a friend in my shifting friendgroup who turned out be an awful person). now the next 3 days are just bringing back the bond i had with my other 7 friends and just having a ton of fun. and now, we make it to today! the day i realized i had no reason to be upset about how i had failed my attempt at manifesting my dream life, despite being extremely motivated and all the circumstances being perfect. (i even wore my most comfy pjs 😭)

i was helping one of my friends by introducing her to shiftblr (someone from the shifting fg) and i put her on to a lucid dreaming method that u could use to enter the void state. she'd also entered the void state once before which was nice. anyway i'm kinda yapping this part doesn't really matter but the method does! i had another shifting realization that took me an INSANE amount of time to realize.

i was way too obsessed with my first official experience being perfect.

and how do i know this?

i refused to believe that i could shift on my period.

i also refused to try to shift when i got sick.

i thought if i was sad i couldn't shift.

i was obsessed with awake methods and i thought if i moved or scratched an itch i would be taken out of the trance (this hardened into reality unfortunately)

you see the issue? and i think what makes it even worse is that i KNEW none of this played a role in whether i could shift or not. when i would help baby shifters i would tell them they could feel any way they wanted, they could move anytime they wanted, hell, one of the first shifting experiences i'd seen someone put in a tiktok comment section involved her shifting to escape her period cramps! (she was already on it)

now! what does this have to do with the lucid dreaming method i spoke to my dearest friend about? with lucid dreaming, we know this but i'ma say it again. you are already not aware of your cr. you dont need to do extra steps, you don't need to be extremely relaxed, you don't need to affirm until you fall asleep or any of that! even the method i planned to use that i said was really gonna get me this time, is still harder than simply lucid dreaming! i was worried about all these variables, when i completely forgot that the lucid dreaming method is the ultimate lazy method of all time! i could lucid dream while being sad, on my period, sick, and after moving around a lot! you wanna know how i know? take this morning for example.

today jan 5th, i woke up at 4am and stayed up till somewhere around 9. i was watching one of my comfort movies (bratz, specifically the live action), and talking and giggling with that same shifting fg on discord. i made ramen for myself and had a brief interaction with my mom. i finished the whole movie and realized how tired i was, and went back to bed. now the wbtb method is usually for 10-50 minutes, and you're not meant to use screens. i was awake for nearly 6 HOURS, and by then the wbtb method is null and i'm just awake. i didn't intend to do anything besides sleep, and i had a vivid dream at first, but then i had a false awakening and started realizing what was going on. i don't really feel like explaining the full details of my dream, but know that at some point i realize "wait... i could use this to-" and i cut myself off with a brief "nah" and decided to kill the creature in my room (it was probably gonna become a lucid nightmare).

i'd completely forgotten i naturally have vivid dreams and lucid dreams! and that singular conscious thought helped me take control of my dream. if it isn't obvious by now, i tend to overlook and underlook and it's KILLING ME. but, i'm much happier now knowing that i had a kinda sorta shifting experience while being in ZA when i'm usually extremely hot and uncomfortable in my room (i also have to share a room with my sister).

yea guys i'm pretty happy now! i feel just as motivated as i did then, but i know for a fact that none of those things i was worried about can stop me! (also i've disproved the moving while shifting and swallowing while shifting before, so i have no idea why i still thought i couldn't shift after doing that!!)

byeeee next time i post directly it will likely be my success story!

[tiktaalic]

3 for the book asks?

top five reads!!!!!!

freshwater by akwaeke emezi. i really liked it. more and more i'm realizing prose is really important to my enjoyment of a book. beautifully written beautiful cover and . hm. how do i say this. a lot of books i read that have #lgbt representation do so in a box ticking way. i dont even want to call this one #representation because it was just a story i really enjoyed as it was being told.

rabbit hole kate brody. very donna tartt slash gillian flynn. what if donna turned her hand to crime novels. (IN B4 YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). kind of like flynn without denouement .which is very donna. i liked it a ton i could easily see it as a sharp objects esque mini series.

just like home by sarah gailey. i wasn't sold on it by the cover but it scratched such a specific itch once i started it. enthralled me cover to cover. was trying to figure out what direction it was going in and it kind of stuck to everything it told me it was gonna stick to. all the elements in it were all kind of tailor made to enthrall me and it did.

cloud cuckoo land by anthony doerr. i loveddddd this one. so many threads in it and every one i was like ah! how is it gonna connect! oh well maybe it doesn't connect mamybe i'm just hearing a tale that rules. no! it connects! and it rules!!!!!!! i definitely liked some narratives more than others but i didn't dislike any of them by any means. beautiful book might be might absolute favorite of the year.

exhalation by ted chiang. it was so awesome. kind of general i describe myself as someone who doesnt like scifi. not true. i dont like bad scifi. i loveeeeeeeeee scifi when it's good which i always forget until i find some that's good. which this is. i loved every second of it i love a short story.

[bubble-popping]

day 6? i think? roleswap au again yeah there's a lot of it

He couldn't stop shaking. Several minutes had passed. His breathing was still ragged. The stench of rust and slaughter still burned his nostrils. Blood still matted his fur. (He didn't even want to think about who's.) He felt so disgusting; he couldn't bear to look at himself.

He kept rereading the main channel on his communicator just to be occupied. His grasp on the device tightened and loosened, assuring him it was all real, that this wasn't some twisted nightmare.

That he'd just massacred so many innocent people--including his best friend. And worst of all, he still felt the overwhelming urge to do it again scratching at the back of his brain.

Dream squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile to stay down.

"Some festival, huh?"

The enderian jolted, his entire body puffing up and a strangled enderman noise leaving his throat. He looked to the source of the voice, and all the panic-driven adrenaline that'd filled his veins crashed to a halt.

"Technoblade, what the hell! Don't sneak up on me like that!" His communicator creaked under his crushing grip.

Techno raised his arms in surrender. "Woah, sorry. Didn't realize ya were tryna have a moment there. I can go if-"

"No, no," Dream interrupted, maybe a little too quickly. "It's fine. You can stay. Just, surprised me is all." He relaxed against the oak tree at his back, letting his device de-materialize so his hands were limp in his lap. He hated the empty feeling, but the constant reminder of his crimes was worse.

The masked man approached to join him under the shade. He sat with a low sigh, knees bent and arms resting on top.

Something about Techno's presence was very comforting--in the way that an old trusty axe or a well-worn shield was. Of course, Dream would never admit this, much less to Technoblade himself.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" Techno asked, startling Dream from his thoughts.

Dream snorted. "Since when do you care about my mental health, Techno?"

"Since I found ya shakin' like a leaf under a tree covered in blood n' guts."

"Oh yeah, cuz I totally believe you just happened to be walking by. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was just mindin' my business walkin' down the Member Road when my comms exploded, no pun intended, so I was like 'Dream's goin' off? Oh, this I gotta see' and now I'm here."

Dream blinked at him blankly. Then he scoffed, and then he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Without even realizing, he gradually relaxed more and more until he was slouched against the trunk.

"So, you followed me out here to, what? Make fun of me? Brag about how you would've killed more?"

"Nah, I told ya, Dream. I came to see if yer okay."

"And I told you I don't buy that."

"Can I not care about my favorite rival?"

"Techno, I'm your only rival."

"Wow, Dream, that's kinda narcissistic of ya. Possessive too."

"Do you have any other rivals?"

"None on yer level, but I'd say I have a few. If I had known ya wanted to be exclusive then I would've told 'em-"

"Oh my god, shut up! You're so stupid! That's not what I'm saying!" Dream exclaimed while giving a playful shove. Techno promptly dissolved into hiccuping laughter. The enderman pretended his face wasn't heating up, crossing his arms like a petulant child, despite how he joined in the giggles.

Yet, he knew he needed this. Even if just for a moment, he could imagine everything was okay. That he was safe here, tucked away from the rest of the server with the admin harmlessly bullying him while an undeniable fondness grew in his heart.

A comfortable silence blanketed them once they'd calmed down. Dream could feel a certain exhaustion start to weigh on his eyelids, and inevitably his hands itched to grab something.