#squishing different parts of different images together to make something different

[rindemption]

See I think the problem is that I'm not meant to draw imaginary men from scratch. I'm meant to be a painter in the 1700's forcing the elite to stand in one pose all day while I meticulously paint every detail of their buttons and stare at their wife a little too long and a little too longingly

[lvndosnorris]

riding oscar’s face and literally crying when his nose occasionally bumps your overstimulated clit (im crazy obsessed w his nose), but his hands just hold you down so you can’t squirm or move off of him. you can def feel him smiling against your clit

first oscar smut?!!! thank you anonnie <3

oscar had been begging for you to sit on his face for the past few weeks, scoffing in your direction whenever you'd argue that you'd squish him. as nonsensical as it sounded he'd settle for being between your thighs instead, hips elevated with a cushion as he'd eat like a starving man — only pulling away from you once you tugged harshly at his hair, desperate to clamp your legs together as you walked shuddered hysterically at the overstimulation he was subjecting you to.

yet you couldn't get the thought out of your mind, the mental image of you riding his face being something you couldn't get rid of. the bubbling hot in the pit of your stomach as you finally managed to swallow your insecurities and propose the idea mid-make-out, your question shaky and almost inaudible as oscar pouted playfully, "i didn't quite catch that princess, what did you say?"

and you'd raise your voice, a firm "i want to sit on your face" sounding like music to his ears as he kneaded the flesh of your ass beneath his palms. the both of you were slumped against the bed, propped up by the headboard as your fingers traced the adam's apple bobbing in your boyfriends throat as he groaned.

the sensation felt different, not what you were used to. head pushed back against the cushions oscar helped you steady yourself above him, your underwear discarded somewhere between the sheets as he stroked over your outer thighs. he could sense your wariness, peppering small kisses to your warm skin as he waited for you, patient as you took your time to finally lower yourself. your eyes fluttered, blurry as he snaked a hand between the two of you, pointer finger and middle finger spreading your cunt just enough for him to settle between your folds.

"that's it baby, i've got you..." his words were muffled, vibrations surging through your body at the sensation. oscar's tongue movements were slow, languid as he traced over your wetness. paying particular attention to your clit he moaned softly, suckling the bundle of nerves between his lips with a deliciously wet noise.

your hips rocked against him, hands gripping the headboard for leverage as you cursed his name. with a whimper you felt his mouth leave you for a split second, adjusting until his tongue lapped hungrily at your clenching hole. you were desperate, chest heaving as you felt the tip of his nose brush your puffy clit.

from the start of your relationship oscar had always put your pleasure first — whether that be worshipping you with his hands, his mouth or his cock. whatever you needed, you would get. and although he loved making you feel good in whichever way you desired, there was no denying that he loved tasting you. in fact he craved it.

your waterline was brimming with tears as you rocked against his face, the sound of oscar beneath you filling the room. the air was hot, heavy, as he mercilessly ate you; his lips parted as his tongue brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. you could tell that you'd be cumming any minute if he continued like he was, your excitement glistening on his cheeks and chin as he whined to his own tune. he worked your body perfectly, the pads of his fingers gripping your waist as he held you down, not letting you lift your hips at all for relief, "c'mon baby, give it to me— show my how good you are."

the cockiness oozed from his words and you knew that he'd have a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. you tried to respond, eyes screwed shut as you threw your head back, but words completely failed you — instead replaced with cries as the tip of his nose bumped over your clit again and again, the soreness of his jaw forgotten about as he felt you shake.

[fmhobeus]

morning sex! with nanami! it's all i fucking think about!!!!!!!

(arranged marriage au? slight somnophilia?)

he was usually up before you. like wayyy earlier. he's learnt not to bother you even though you can feel his massive weight be lifted of the bed. you know his routine by now. he goes to the gym early, showers and makes himself a cup of coffee by the time you start cooking breakfast. that's the routine, that's one you're aware of. what you don't know is that he's been watching you sleep... for like... everyday you both have lived together.

and it's !!not!! creepy, of course, you are his wife. it's not creepy, the fact that if he looks at you too long he starts to feel his pants getting tighter, a siege of blood flowing south.

it isn't wrong, when he pulls your covers down from your face. of course he just wants you to breathe easier. it's not lust. just an added bonus that he can now see your pretty lips parted, begging for a kiss and your pretty tits squished by your arms as you lay on your side.

if it's not wrong then why does he... why does he feel this way? this guilt? and why does it make him hornier?

so one of these weekends, as he told himself, he'd try his luck. it was all too unbearable for him at this point. you were fogging up his brain with these lewd images. and worst part was... you were oblivious to the effect you had on him.

it's a sunday. his body wakes up at the usual time. wee hours of the morning. you're by his side this time. it's all up to him now.

he tries to be discreet, at first. try lovey-dovey stuff first, as the internet has told him. you feel him shift in the bed and suddenly your husband's massive arms hug you from behind. the muscles tense as he pulls you to his chest. his heart is pounding. and its barely like 5 am.

"you're sleeping in?"

"yeah, weekend."

"no gym?" you ask. you both sleep face opposite sides, this is one of the few times you've had to adjust your body to his frame. you squiggle as you talk, trying to fit the soft curvature of your body with his flatter, harder frame.

"no.. it's uh... closed for maintenance today." he too has a hard time adjusting to you. to your curves, to your proximity, to how you slept in his arms like a fawn. to how he would conceal his erection to spend time like this with you. too much, too unbearable.

"oh, ok." you smiled. "wake me up if you need anything hm?"

you close your eyes once more. now something else woke you up. nanami's face nuzzled in your neck. his hands, this time, toying with your waist. his bulge apparent. it made sense now. you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

nanami kento is the beautiful man you are married to. gorgeous blonde hair. piercing brown eyes, shaped so angular that it's intimidating. perfect jaw structure. and god... that dick. he was caring and responsible too. how could a man this perfect ever love you? you were convinced he didn't. he always looked stoic, removed, disconnected from you an your relationship. he fucked you with care and gentleness and diabetic sweetness. you couldn't feel him want you. but you'd grown to want him. who the fuck has a one sided crush on their own husband?

but this... this felt different. this felt like all those fantasies were gonna come true. those moments you spent doting on him, creating the nastiest scenarios.

oh god, his soft blonde hair, unkempt and messy in bed. his eyes barely open, his body warm. he smelled like himself and not his expensive cologne. it was all so domestic. all so comfortable. how could you miss this side of nanami?

but you continued to be merry with the domesticity of it all to foresee how your perfect husband was about to perfectly split you open with his perfect dick.

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 7 Pt. 1

I am slowly but surely catching up! More stream of consciousness thoughts below! This one is a doozy... I almost couldn't verbalize my thoughts clearly; I just had so many.

[All images are from Trigun Maximum Vol. 7.]

[ID: A set of five panels in a row, each a close up of a different face of a crew member. They all look pensive. The panel below is of a nondescript part of the ship's ceiling. The dialogue reads "A great scientific discovery... huh..." End ID.]

...seems like this is not the first time you people have come across a "great scientific discovery"...

Yikes. Rem's trying so hard to keep the twins a secret but her eyes in that scene... she does not trust these people. And I'm pretty sure I know why.

Hjhfdjhf Knives is a little troublemaker. He's so cute.

Interesting that it's Vash who sees Conrad first.

Knives is so happy to be accepted he just started crying... augh...

I do find the way Conrad talks to them is kind of interesting though. Idk, saying "Let's move forward together" isn't really something I'd say to a couple of young kids... it's just that I still think Conrad sees them as a new sentient form of life before just being children, you know? But at least he's being nice to them.

"We can work through a few little differences. If we just talk to each other, we can come to understand one another. Because there's no difference between human hearts and ours." <- Oof. He was so optimistic. I'm paying special attention to the words "we can work through "little" differences" and ""no" difference between them".

...the apparition of the girl there, who I'm going to assume is Tesla, is eerily similar to the strange apparition Vash saw of Conrad being killed in the previous volume. Is it an intentional thing that Knives did? If that's the case, it implies Tesla is intentionally trying to show them something... which uh...

...the flower is fresh. That means Rem is changing it and checking on it. It's kind of a miracle these two didn't follow her into this wing beforehand if she keeps disappearing to do this.

Vash is the first to catch on that something is weird about all this. Or, well, I don't think that's quite true. Knives also seems to know something is up but his face makes me think he doesn't want to admit it.

[ID: Vash squishes in next to Knives, trying to see the screen, saying "Who?! Why?! What does it mean?!" Knives has a cartoonishly annoyed expression as his hands ready to press on the keyboard, and says "I don't know! Quit pushing, Vash!" End ID.]

Ah... siblings... :')

Oh what the fuck. This is so much worse.

Literally what the fuck. And what makes it so horrible is you can tell these people were so excited by their new discovery that they weren't even listening. We don't actually see any of Tesla's perspective but there is a small panel where she's crying. The "question of ethics" is given a single sentence, like it wasn't even contemplated. These weren't "villains", they were ordinary people. And that is even more terrifying - because all of us would love to believe that the line between good and bad is a firmly drawn thing.

Ah... so this was the inspiration for Vash not eating in Stampede... :/

Rem's perseverance is going to make me cry

Ah... never bring a knife or sharp object around someone who is suicidal...

HOLY FUCK REM. Oh my god. Certified mom moment fr.

Hey. Do you ever think how this is probably the first time Vash has seen real blood (excepting the possibility of maybe some scrapes or bruises but I'm talking actual bleeding). Anyways I just. It clearly triggered thoughts of Tesla and that fear, that trapped feeling, that "lash out before she hurts me" took over, and that upwelling of momentary relief because he's safe only for him to look down and it's Rem's blood, not his, and it's his hands, not hers, holding the weapon and I just ahgjuhbfgsjbhgjbadahhhhhh

I don't even know what to say. I have no insightful commentary I just... Vash clearly got her to the medical area. Eating his food where she can see. Clearly still wary, deeply shaken, gauging for a reaction from her. And she just smiles at him. Augh.

Sorry, is this a Night on the Galactic Railroad reference??? AS IF THIS WASN'T PAINFUL ENOUGH.

*sounds of crying*

*SOUNDS OF CRYING INTENSIFY*

[ID: First image is of young Vash, with closed eyes, a faint grin and a sweat drop, saying "I don't fully understand though. I've never even seen a train." Second image is of a very cartoony Rem and Vash, Rem at first glaring then grimacing as she says "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" and Vash shocked with sweat drops. End ID.]

The sillies... ok but this is so sweet and tells us a lot about Vash and Rem's dynamic, for all that we only see particular scenes of it - and in spite of everything, it's a good one. Everything that's happened over the past while has been incredibly emotionally charged, and there's definitely no going back to how it was - but Rem is telling him her honest feelings, holding nothing back at this point, and Vash not only clearly listened (you can see the light come back into his eyes... augh), but he is the one who takes the step to break the tension and be a little silly (which I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's something he did before), and Rem sees it for what it is - it's not alright, and it hasn't been resolved (god, could something like this ever?) but she will never give up on him (on either of them) and he doesn't want their relationship to be tense and fraught with conflict. Anyways, that takes a deep level of love and understanding on both sides. I adore them. I adore complicated yet loving parent-child relationships.

...Knives doesn't remember??? WHAT

Sorry, Conrad opposed the experiments??? And the fact that apparently they caused an "uproar" and it was still only given one brief mention in the official report. Ugh.

Knives' breakdown and eventual decision to cause the Big Fall is so so well done. Augh this poor kid...

"I made a completely rational decision" <- me when I lie

"You need to look at the larger picture" <- I think I can finally get around to writing about Knives' trauma now. Oh yeah. It's all comin' together.

Oh this is so weird that the flashback appears to be different... because first we see Knives saying the Plant ships will survive, but now apparently several were "sacrificed". Knives kicks Vash when he accuses him of not "being" human but now it's because he accuses him of "being afraid" of humans. I'm. Confused. Is this the difference between what the brothers remember...? Is it just an extended scene?

"This is not fear. This is anger." <- ME WHEN I LIE

BRO HE ABSORBED HER? WHAT. (Also these panels are so fucking cool. I would include them here but it would literally just be three continuous pages.)

[ID: Wolfwood has flicked a rubber band at Vash. It hits him in the face. His head moves to one side from the impact but his expression doesn't change. End ID.]

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled doom, trauma and destruction for Wolfwood certified annoying older brother comedy relief moment.

There's something about Wolfwood being the one to break up a potential shootout by playing up Vash's reputation (as Vash himself did in the first volume of Trimax) before a single person can get hurt... but it comes at the expense of continuing to damage Vash emotionally... as I suppose his brand of pacifism always kind of does huh?

[ID: Vash smiles broadly with closed eyes. It is clearly forced. Wolfwood watches from the entrance, leaning against the Punisher. End ID.]

Ow. Just ow.

I have so many emotions from this scene. I don't even know what to say I feel like I've been pulled in about ten different directions by my heart strings. I will say the lines about taking solace in forgetting your past and that people will one day forget you is in stark contrast to Vash's insistence on remembering...

"Wolfwood, you are really my guide, right?" <- I am experiencing shrimp emotions

Knives knocking out the communications network... that's a good move. Also kind of symbolic lol

"before the end" ugh it really does sound like Vash expects to not make it out of this... but well. there's like... 7 more volumes. so.

Wolfwood: *experiences a viscerally horrifying vision involving him getting impaled and then literally ripped apart* Also Wolfwood: "I'm not gonna say anything I don't want to burden him" (for the love of... talk to each other you two!!! you're stronger together!!!!! we've established this!)

He noticed anyways... and then Wolfwood tried to follow him aghhh

...so Wolfwood didn't kill that man... and somehow that guy's the one who transmitted that weird vision??? ("How did it feel to die" <- either terrible old man transmitted it himself or he knows how it was done.)

Elendira is fascinating. I don't know what she wants really. I don't think she wants to die, but... idk. It seems like she wants to choose how she goes out? That dying along with the whole world in an instant is preferable to... idk what the alternative is. Anyways. She's cool.

[ID: Knives is leaning against a pillar, sleeping. He is partially draped in what looks like cloth, but it likely an extension of his powers. The limbs, face, and single wing of a dependent Plant can be seen blended in with the folds. End ID.]

Knives finally gets some sleep! ...Do you think absorbing his sister, and her proximity, eased his loneliness enough that he felt safe enough to rest? Rip to her though, she doesn't look too pleased about this.

"finest human specimens" Holy fuck Knives. Do you even understand how you sound. By your own admittance, you sent them in knowing they would fail and die.

The whole "no human could've killed you anyways we're so much stronger and can't coexist" to "when they crush an ant, they don't even notice" -> so which are you? The foot or the ant? He's tried to frame them as both on multiple occasions... or maybe the dependent Plants as "ants" and him and Vash as a foot above the trampling feet... or something. Idk.

Pov: your brother has mutated his own body by clearly absorbing one of your sisters, tells you you're dying with no lead up whatsoever, and then just straight up attacks you. (sorry, sorry. Knives is a little funny to me in a... dark comedy kind of way)

OUGH... it's the lines from Stampede... except it's Vash trying so hard to appeal to Knives... "there's another way"... D':

[ID: Cartoony drawings of Elendira and Wolfwood. Wolfwood asks "What exactly were ya plannin' to do anyway?" and Elendira, sweat dropping, says "Well..." End ID.]

Love that Elendira latches onto the first decently sane person she finds and immediately starts chatting away to him. Didn't know I needed this dynamic. hhdjfbhsdjf

WHAT. KNIVES THAT IS NOT THE SOLUTION. "I can't make you see things my way so I'll just absorb you" WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

...Legato just saved Knives... and him knowing Knives was in danger was the whole reason he was so frantic... in a twisted way, that's... almost sweet...?

I wonder why Vash's gate is so overly powerful compared to Knives'... I have a theory but I'll need to think on it a bit.

I can't believe Knives just left Vash at Legato's mercy... bro wasn't Legato's whole "I want to murder your brother" thing the whole reason you literally crumpled him like a soda can???

...Well. This seems to be going great. I'm going to be doing a quick write-up on Plant anatomy and powers, as well as finally digging into Knives' trauma so if anyone is interested, stay tuned for that! Might take me a little bit though... things have been pretty hectic unfortunately and I'm uh... not in the greatest of moods. But I'm really excited to write them and to catch up! :D

[pangolin-404]

Hmm., I really, really wanna read your mimic/masked headcanons, but the big paragraphs are kinda intimidating and hard for me to read. Could you maybe put the explanations on drawings? Like, putting the text in split up images. I dunno why but it's easier for me to read that way. If not that's fine, this is a really strange request LOL

maybe this will help? I split it up a bit (under the readmore), but there's also screenshots of the text with it

(Do I make the paragraphs too big................... tumblr squishing text making things hard to read .)

pondering. the relationships masked may hold with other entities within the facilities/mansions they reside. if there is no other masked, what do they seek?

what else would a full, happy masquerade seek? all they want is company.

a masked under watch from the ghost of someone who passed so long ago. it watcher her follow, angry and not understanding how and why it differs from the employees that invade.

imagine, a masked caring for that ghost, the ghost finding company in its adoring presence. eternal things, shambling through the halls. imagine if you will, a masked combing the soot and dirt from a death that spurs her to anger out of that girl's hair while they sit by a fire

an old bird raising a squirming, uncomfortable masked, looking at it, and seeing not an enemy combatant, but something else entirely. a civilian?

would an old bird have any urge to defend anything at all?

may it set the masked down and watch it like a bug. may the masked look up at it like the sun and grow attached to its immense presence.

may they watch artifice's sunset together. things humanity left behind, a war machine and a starving thing, finding happiness in each other.

a masked, seen as a resident by the nutcracker of a mansion. a masked following its ceaseless patrols, marching after it, running into it when it stops to survey its surroundings.

the nutcracker learns to recognize it, to take it in as part of its surroundings and something to be protected. it bothers its routine but it would never wish harm to befall the thing.

when the masked inevitably has to rest, the nutcracker may linger, if leaving returning often to check on it, or stationing itself nearby, idle.

and maybe if the masked wants to do the honors and kill the intruders, it'd let it--why are there more of it now.

[forevercaroline]

A vampire scent

@crazychicke, @austennerdita2533 @karinanic @mydarlingklaus

“It’s going to be a while, maybe years.”

Angel turns around as he’s leaving the cemetery. “I’m not getting any younger.”

As he is leaving the conversation is running through his head. Savoring it, it could be the last time he sees Buffy. The only thing that sticks out is that Spike’s scent was all over her. She said he’s not her boyfriend but in her heart. What does that mean. Last time he saw Spike he was torturing Angel for the location of the ring of Amara and now finds out he’s been here this entire time and he and Buffy have got close. So close that his scent is on her and that he got a soul.

He goes to open the car door but he needs to know to stop the images of Spike and Buffy living together scenarios in his head. He knows the way to her house; he's taken that route many times. He hears talking and can see that Giles and some others are in the dining room. He slips around to the back door as his hand is on the doorknob he takes a second. Is this really the best way to squish his thoughts? He could just take her word that there’s nothing going on between her and Spike but why did she smell like him. If she smelled like him then he’s guessing he smells like her.

It wasn’t a sex smell it was just Spike. Angel knows Spike as well as anyone. He turns the knob and all he hears is sleeping heart rates and whispered Giles and co playing a game. It’s way more than just Buffy’s scent or Spike’.

He follows her scent to the basement and there in the darkness on the cot against the wall is Buffy asleep next to Spike who has his arm draped over her and her fingers are holding his arm to her. His head is nestled in her neck. Spike is just in black jeans and black tee shirt with no jacket and no shoes, while Buffy is just in black pants and a black camisole. Usually she wears something over the camisole. They look comfy and relaxed, like they do this every night. It hurt when Buffy said Spike is in her heart but hearing that and seeing how comfortable they are around each other is different.

Angel didn’t know they were this close. A part of him wishes that it was him she was cuddled up to on that cot. While looking at everything it clicks, Spike getting a soul, why they have their scents on each other, why they look so relaxed sleeping together. The realization makes his insides flip; they are in love.

As he is turning to leave the basement the moonlight reflects off something hanging out of Spike’s jacket. It’s the amulet that Angel gave Buffy earlier that night. She gave it to Spike. To her he’s a champion and worthy to wear it. If seeing them cuddling in bed feels like a gut punch then seeing that Spike is a champion is a punch in the face.

Buffy moves in her sleep and snuggles more into Spike’s body. Angel takes a breath pushing this image and the other imagines from his mind he has to get back to LA he has work to do.

The sound of the basement door closing wakes Buffy up, her fingers run along Spike’s arm over her. She knows this shouldn’t feel right, believe me she knows, she is sick of people telling her Spike is still bad. She saw the good and change in him. A couple years ago she wouldn’t be cuddled up next to Spike, even last year after they would have sex she would run out, there were only a couple occasions where she fell asleep after or stalled her exit. She would not be cuddled up with evil Spike, it’s different he’s different he has a soul and he loves her and she believes him.

A little while later Spike wakes up from a weird dream and sees Buffy on the other side of the basement; he didn't even feel her get up. As he is sitting up he smells a familiar scent. It’s not just his, Buffy’s or the girls. It's Angel.

[wally-franks]

hiii hi im here with my liddol hcs for u... looks up at u with my big sad wet eyes. this is my silly little au ,,, i love urs tho n would love to hear the angst bcos. theres so much angst i left out too fjrjfhie

ok so WALLY- little guy but absolutely not stupid. like he knows whats going on BUT hes just. a little silly sometimes. low braincells but can piece stuff together and is careful. carries a knife with him. does not want to get into trouble (excluding pranks ofc. loves them) uh. 147cm, transmasc, and pan. his hat is very important. i actually just finished making his hat but thats a different thing fhjrjf

talks a LOT and has a gossip group with norman n susie. but its all in good fun. n u know thomas is him boyfriend. they pretend to be Mortal Enemies but at home they r so so soft... they must put up a front at work because they are scared of how they'll look in front of other ppl. if only they knew that probably like 2 ppl total in jds were cishet fbjrj,, he has that audhd and his silly little catchphrase is everything ok.

thomas- too tall bites him. i mean. ahem. 183cm and bisexual. very closed off from people but will not hesitate to confront people. very touchy about the machine cos its his "best creation" or whatever. ok stupid college boy but go off ig. (i love him sm)

basically just there to get work done. he acts smart, looks smart, but hes "stupid"... not in the way of logically stupid, he is just very silly sometimes. also he smokes. i mean have u HEARD his voice (affectionate) he has 5 older brothers n his family is very sweet i think. gnaws on the thomas plush part twenty million

and finally SAMMY- very very stressed so he yells a lot BUT he does a softer side in private. he just needs to front as mean and irritating with everyone to keep his image up :(( grr squishes him very hard. transmasc and gay bc. he just is. does not like joey but then again in my au nobody really does but thats ok<3 back to sammy the babygirl. he is 168cm and his "partner" is jack... but we all know... the silly... also probably helped johnny learn the organ/piano. because it needs to happen

if u want 2 know more or have any questions my dms are open >:3c sorry for th ramble!!! fjrjeh

Hii!!  I'm so sorry this took so long to get toooooo. I had to inhale this text for a bit and let it sog into my brain xD I always need a bit to take in muchhhhooss information (nothing bad btw just me being me hehe)

AND YEAHHH.. I should maybe talk more about angst. But at the same time I'm like. Naurrrr... Naurrrr... I really live by "there's always so much negativity and sadness in this world, no need to add more to it" SO I ALWAYS HESITATE SHARING ANGST AND SAD THINGS!! CUZ I'M LIKE!!  WHY BE SAD IF I CAN HAVE FUN STUFF WITH STUFF THAT MAKES ME HAPPY </3 + most of it is just killing and torture anyway and euhm. Those tend to trigger ehm negative stuffs in me anyway :') Mostly just hallucinations and shit thoughts but!! You know, when there's a good time to share some of that stuff, I will!! :3 or maybe I share more about my toon Alice. She's a bit more tame about with that stuff. Anyhow. This is about YOU and not me. Soooo I'll go now through your stuff >:)

Wally being like that is true, that really fits to him!! He's just a silly that takes his his time to piece stuff together and that is okay :3

And OMG, mine also carries a knife around :D I just think it makes so much sense for hi to do so.... He's encountered moving ink puddles before, might just aswell carry a knife til. I feel like it also makes more sense after we saw his hat and a knife at artists rests (+ the April fools video hehe). Also, him being transmasc and pan is so funny because my old version of wally used to be exactly that aswell!!  :D I changed that though, but again something very fitting for him. I loev your wally. He's so silly. AND SMALL!!!???  like damn OMG I didn't expect him to be that tiny. I could just launch him /lh

(Wally being a little gossip girly pop is so funny and real HAHAHA )

Thomas's and Wally,s relationship being like that is exactly how I envisioned it xD I love that for them so much.

And.. DAMN!! IM ALMOST AS TALL AS THOMAS BOY!! I thought yours would have been MUCH taller. Guess I was wrong. That's so interesting.

Also yeah... He definitely smokes. He smokes so damn much, probably several packs a day LMFOA. It's not to miss with a voice like that xD. You'd have to be insane to not think that.

Besides, BIG FAM FOR THOMAS ALSO MAKES A LOT OF SENSE!!

SAMMY BOY!!! SAMMY BOY!! I've been so keen on hearing about him!!!!! Wa'hh!!  We love publicly intimidating and soft at home Sammy I love that so so so so so much waghahahhhh!! And he's also way smaller than I thought,!! Another suprise here :D but nothing bad. Just me being like woah??  In taller than him. ALSO, HIM AND JACK BEING A THING?? YAY!! I LOVE SAMMY AND JACK TOGEZHER WJAJAJAJ AND OHOHOHH JOHNNY MOMENT. JOHNNY MENTIONED *POINTSSS*

AND YEAH I'LL LET YOU KNOW IF I WANNA KNOW MORE. AND DON'T BE SORRY I LOVED THIS SO MUCH.. ERMMMM. IF YOU EVER WANNA TALK MORE ABOUT YOUR JOHNNY *twirls hair* I'd love to know what he's up to in your AU. Where he's mostly at!! Mine is first at the music department but then gets moved down to lacie and Bertrum, so I'd love to know where yours at!! And his personality too. That's the thing that interests me the most!!! Giving a character who has no info at all jngame a personality is always so cool and interesting to see :D everyone has like their own way of seeing and imagining characters.. I'd die to know how yours is!!!!

[hmspogueobx]

Sunshine and Pine

Chapter Five: Pit

The heavy rain from this morning has turned the air misty, and all I can see from my kitchen window is fog. After watching Aunt Sue drag a half-asleep Seth around the kitchen all morning, insisting he learn this stuff so he can treat a women right one day, and sitting down to a family breakfast together, my shirt is now fifty percent water as I scrub dishes in the sink, mostly staring out the window pondering life.

I'd been cautiously excited when moving to LaPush. Knowing I needed to get some space from my trauma, but also, change is freaking terrifying. But never had I imagined life would take such an amazing leap into wonderful territory.

It's in the middle of this daydream that a howl resounds somewhere deep in my bones, making the plate I'm holding clatter to the bottom of the sink.

My head whips around to see Leah and Seth behind me. They're both standing at full attention. Something about the sound of that howl has all of our hackles up, and we all break for the backdoor and into the woods. The sound of clothes ripping echoes around me and then my mind is flooded with images. Horrible images of bruises and pain. Someone's head is being ripped off. I see a baby, but it's not quite a baby. It looks normal and innocent, but then all of a sudden its eyes are bright red and it's the one ripping people's heads off.

It takes me a while to sift through it all and put the pieces together.

Jacob is talking to Bella, his eyes fall down to her stomach which has ballooned out and is more black and blue than not. Bella tells him everythings going to be alright. Edward says he can kill him. Bella rubbing her belly and smiling. The Cullens are arguing "The fetus isn't good for Bella!" Alice hisses. But Jacob is looking at Bella, she's trying to mask her wince. "It's just a little baby!" "Possibly".

Possibly.... Possibly. What is growing in there.

That's when the rest of the pack's thoughts start to chim in. I can feel everyone's rage. Everyone is seeing red. We're all running towards Jacob. We're breaking through the treeline and I still haven't decided how I feel about this.

My head turns towards the big black wolf as Sam starts to talk through the mindlink.

"We have to protect the tribe. What they've bred won't be able to control its thirst. Every human will be in danger."

"We're ready" "No time to waste." Everyone starts voicing their approval.

Everyones getting ready to go kill Bella like right this second. The cloud of outrage surrounding me is making it hard to make up my own mind. I keep sifting through the memories Jake showed us, but the one that keeps coming back is Bella, holding her belly and gazing down at it, so much love in her eyes.

While I've been processing, Jacob has charged off. I don't even realize that I'm slowly retreating until a massive gray head is whipping in my direction.

"No" Paul had been so consumed by everything he hadn't tuned specifically into my mind until right now. "Lucy, you can't be serious."

"I can't do this Paul. WE can't do this." And my mind is flashing back to that loving look in Bella's eyes. "It's just a baby."

Paul echoes the words we heard in Jake's memories. "Possibly."

I haven't stopped inching backwards while we talked and my feet squish into the dirt of the forest floor.

Every part of me is pulling in a different direction. My body seems to be moving of its own accord, drawing me towards Bella. My mind is trying to tell me that I should never leave my pack like this. THEY'RE my family, not some band of silverspoon leeches.

My heart and my soul are the only two working in synchrony. Screaming in desperation to stop moving away from the gray wolf in front of me, the emotion in his eyes completely human. The minds of everyone else are obviously still there, but I can't hear them anymore. All I hear is Paul. He seems to be going through a similar battle to mine. Up until he felt me retreating, there wasn't a doubt in his mind on what was happening. Honestly, there still wasn't. But he could feel his very soul dragging her feet hesitantly through the dirt. Moving further and further away from him. He was battling between the outrage that his partner and packmate dared defend the enemy, and the dark pit that sank deeper and deeper in his chest with every inch I retreated.

We'd obviously been physically apart before. But this was more than that. This was physical, mental, emotional and everything in between. The imprint embedded into our genes wants to reach out and smack us both upside the head, shove us back together. But we've never been so far apart.

"Bella hasn't done anything wrong. Jacobs right, our protection applies to her too." The words pour out of my mouth without thought, as if I'm running on autopilot. Like a puppet on a string. The pull - correction, the vicious clawing - to run back to Paul's side seems to have no say here. That pit that Paul could feel, starts to unravel in my chest too.

"Come on Lucy, tell me you aren't that stupid." And that's what does it. I can feel that Paul regrets his words immediately after he's thought them. But that's the tricky part about sharing thoughts... Everything is always out on full display.

The image of my wolf form turning full tilt into the forest, clouded in pure agony is all I see in my head as the trees rush past me. The farther I go, the deeper and darker that pit sinks into both of us.

The last thing I see before my link to my pack is severed, is everyone else watching as the fight leaves Paul's body, and his naked body slumps to the ground. His hand is clutched to his chest like he's trying to keep the pit from consuming him whole.

It's not until I see the Cullen's house peeking through the greenery, that I allow myself to stop running and collapse into a ball of fur in the dirt.

[stahl-tier]

This response isn’t going to be as concise I’m afraid because it is after all a complex topic, but I think half of that will just be my ramblings so bear with me...

A lot of the issues I had with Train Simulator in particular were related to things not working as expected (or the functionality missing entirely), for example the direct brake on the DLC vehicle I got not even “snapping” into the brake position so the train would simply roll away when you stopped, or dumb things like the power of the dynamic brakes being all over the place and so on.

Basically the stretching and squishing happens because in a train, I’d go as far as saying that nothing at all is rigidly connected to something else, because with all the warping and strain that happens during normal operation (extreme forces at work at all times), everything would simply break and snap. The couplers and buffers on standard rail vehicles work together (except if you live in the US, where for some reason they seem to go only with combined coupler-buffer designs which is more common for railcars here but I digress...), so when the train stops, the buffers need to “dampen” the force with their springs as the cars bump into each other due to different individual brake speeds/power. A coupler cannot take pushing forces, since it has articulated hinges. Buffers cannot take pulling forces though, since they aren’t connected between the cars (they only touch 😳👉👈). That’s the coupler’s job, and in the “at rest” state there will be a little bit of slackness in the coupler’s joints - so that when the train starts moving, the coupler’s joints are pulled taut and therefore dampen the pulling force a little to not make too big of a jolt (and once again, rip the train apart).

There’s actually an important part you misunderstood about the indirect brake (and I can’t blame you, it can be a bitch to wrap your head around if you don’t have someone who knows that stuff explain it to you and show you how it works on a real vehicle). The indirect brake is also called the automatic brake so...

1) it’s indirect because what the brakes actually do is kinda their own thing and "abstracted” from what the operator or the rest of the train is doing and

2) it has to be that way because it must automatically engage if it “notices” the air leaving the main air line very suddenly

It’s really difficult to have any mental image of all the stuff I’m about to explain so have an actual image first:

The main air line (yellow) is not directly connected to the brake cylinders (squiggly line box with a red portion). It is connected to “auxiliary air storage containers” (pale blue. sorry for the weird terms I’m making up, I genuinely don’t know what they’re called in anything except german so I’m just literally translating the words), which will always be full while the main air is full. So they basically always make sure to stay full of that pressurized air, and it’s a one-way exchange there, since they only take air from the main line. They’re really just storage containers. In the image you can see a very simplified schematic of a locomotive on the left, connected to a very simplified, generic rail vehicle on the right via a coupled main air line.

There’s an extremely important component right next to the auxiliary storage tanks, and that’s the control valve. It’s not really visible in the graphic above but... It has a little system of its own small-ish auxiliary containers that are in perfect equilibrium during one of the two default states (”brakes loose” or “brakes engaged”). This valve is a sort of junction between the main air line, the auxiliary storage container, the brake cylinders, and last but not least - the outside world. The equilibrium is essentially determined by comparing the pressure inside the main air line with the pressure inside the auxiliary storage container. Since air can only go INTO the container from the main air but not the other way, the auxiliary container retains its pressure no matter what happens in the main air line.

If there is a sudden change in pressure at the main air line opening of the control valve junction, this will throw the control valve’s equilibrium off if it happens quickly enough. The pressure in the main air line is now suddenly a lot lower than in the auxiliary container. The control valve hates that. And it immediately starts acting: it tries to restore the equilibrium by letting the air out of the auxiliary container, in a direction where it actually can go: towards the brake cylinders. As long as the pressure is different, it will keep releasing air from the auxiliary container. The brake cylinders, when filled with air, will smush a metal sheet against metal coils, and that makes the brake engage.

When releasing the brake, the air cannot go back into any of the containers or lines by the way, and is dumped outside into the open air by the control valve. It's important to know here that the air going from the main air line directly to the open air outside is something that should not happen in a freight train at any point except at the engine. There's only one source of pressurized air in a train, and it's typically the engine's compressor. The thing you mention about the pressure in the main line dropping quickly and evenly is impossible because of that reason, and that's intentional. When the air leaves only in one spot (so typically, the very first vehicle), it takes quite a while to actually propagate that pressure loss across the entire train to its end. One thing I didn't mention yet about the brakes' control valve is that it has a "insensitive range", aka a range of pressure difference that it will "allow" before attempting to equalize. It's between 0.4 and 0.7 bar, so you can sneakily fill or empty the main air line within these values over time if you need to adjust the overall pressure or to make up for gradual pressure loss due to minor air leaks across the train.

On the other hand, if you want it to react, you need to make sure you overcome this insensitive range.

So any time the driver operates the brake levers inside the engine, he basically sets a "pressure goal" and the many valves inside the train will attempt to reach this goal as "abruptly" as possible to actually get the control valves to pay attention to it. Anything that happens as the result of the lever operation is therefore actually controlled by the control valves of the brake equipment on the individual vehicles. As the driver, you merely give them an "order" by lowering the pressure abruptly enough for them to hopefully take notice.

The only times where the source of pressure loss/gain is not the engine (or more specifically, an action of its driver), it's because something went wrong. Typical causes are:

Train ripping apart, thus disconnecting the main air line

Safety systems on the engine, like the train control systems or deadman valve triggering

Air hoses tearing or bursting

A safety mechanism on the car getting triggered and releasing air directly from the main line through an "emergency valve"

Problems with the coupling (insulation rings missing, causing air leak at the main line hose connection, or the turncock not being closed correctly, etc)

Obviously you want none of those things to happen because they are exclusively bad things, but they're also the reason why the indirect air brakes on a train have to work this way - to automatically stop it if something goes wrong. That also means that the driver has to immediately support any sudden main air pressure loss he notices with setting the brake levers to the "fast" braking position, because otherwise the engine's compressor will attempt to compensate for the loss and that would slow down the pressure loss - in the worst case, that would lead to the brake control valves not picking it up and the brakes not engaging. (All the other brake settings will lower the air pressure in the main line but at the same time, the compressor will have to pump more pressurized air into the line, since the air being transferred from the brakes' storage tanks into the brake cylinders causes an additional pressure consumption as they suck in new air to refill themselves, and if you don't compensate for that, it could lead to insufficient remaining pressure to adjust the braking amount or for repeated braking maneuvers when you're going downhill and need to adjust the speed or even fully stop.)

That was probably a lot more in-depth than you even wanted, but like I said the whole process is pretty complex and explaining only half of it makes it only more confusing imo. As a disclaimer, this is all specific to freight rail vehicles used here at the Austrian Railway, and doesn't mention foreign systems, some older/rare component variants, or passenger car specific systems.

@eject91

Gosh I absolutely cannot stand railway sims (not even Train Simulator!!!!) because they simply don't implement some of the most basic aspects of operating an actual train, which actually makes playing them well almost impossible (or even just not derailing honestly....) unless you turn off all the realism features and basically go full arcade mode.

My gripes aside, G and P are two of the three brake "modes" that railway vehicles can have. (The letters can be different for other languages btw! The G stands for the german word Güterzug aka freight train and the P means Personenzug aka passenger train. Those are kinda outdated terms honestly since the distinction in their use is no longer this clear-cut, but changing them now would lead to chaos and probably the downfall of reality as we know it.)

Both G and P have the same strength of braking. The difference is how long it takes to engage and release the brakes.

Assuming a complete release (refill of the main air line): P brake mode will release fully pretty quickly, usually within a couple seconds. G brake mode will gradually and slowly release, taking somewhere between 30 seconds and a full minute (or more).

Both modes engage pretty quickly (within a couple seconds at most), but reaching the full brake strength will take substantially longer with G mode.

Releasing and engaging fast is something you want for short, lightweight trains like passenger trains, or on trains that have cars with evenly distributed brake power. But a lot of the time, G is the only viable option - the slow release/engage prevents stretching/squishing the train too much, as well as preventing sudden jolts from a car already starting to move before the car behind it has released sufficiently. These can destroy your couplers and rip your train apart. Another reason to use G is to stop the cars from "riding up against" your engine(s) when you stop the train. Since the brakes are operated indirectly by releasing air from the main air line and this line is connected throughout the entire train, it can take a long time until the cars in the back also got the memo that you want to stop. So you'll want to put the first couple cars and the engine into G, and the rest in P, for example. When you stop now, the front of the train's braking will be delayed enough that the faster engaging brakes in the back can slow down your "tail" in time.

I hope this explains it well enough? But like I said I'm not sure of how much use this real world info is in railway sim games because it all depends on the implementation.

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Photos The Brothers Would Have of You on Their D.D.D.

.

Is this a way to indulge myself in one of my favorite hobbies without needing to take out my camera? Yes, yes it is.

.

Warning: one(?) uncensored swear word lol

.

Lucifer

This man is sneaky.

He doesn't have much time to take too many pictures if you, but believe me when I say that at least 50% of the pictures were taken without you noticing he ever did before he showed them to you.

You think he would have only aesthetic pictures of you, right? Well, there are, but there is also like, 2 pictures in a row of you and his brothers in face mask chilling in the common room's floor while playing cards, which is followed right after to a picture of you drooling on something before he woke you up.

Sometimes he asks for you to "look this way" before taking a pic.

If you ask why he will simply reply that you looked too stunning to not keep it forever as a memory in the form of a picture.

If he asks for a selfie, he will most likely let you sit on his lap, his cheek touching your head slightly as he leans onto you. The result image will have him looking extremelly soft.

.

Mammon

This dork has so many different vibes of pictures he takes of you.

Some of them is of your concentrated face as you try to solve a puzzle in a mobile game, others of you smiling and laughing heartedly, others of you doing silly stuff for him, such as trying to balance a spoon on your nose or doing the duck mouth with chips.

Of course, there are a few selfies with you, they can be silly with you guys using some cursed filter or they can be slightly more romantic with him giving you a surprise kiss.

It ends with him accidentally taking many pictures at once, and when you look at them, you can watch the amazing progression of him going red and his phone slipping out of his grip in the final picture.

.

Leviathan

He has so many pictures of you on his D.D.D.

A pic of you raging at a game here, one of you staring at Henry there, a selfie of both of you in cosplay doing a pose every once in a while.

There is a picture of you slipping on the last step downstairs, one of you drooling on something too, some of you giving his brothers a very done stare.

The rarest of them all are the normal selfies of both of you. When he doesn't have a cosplay on he feels extremelly self conscious. The result pic will be adorable, his face may be a little stiff and his cheeks a bit too red for his own comfort, but the giddy shine in his eyes says a lot more about what he is feeling than he ever could without stuttering

.

Satan

Another sneaky asshole.

Of course, he has pictures of you playing with cats. Honestly there is probably one of those for every 5 other type of pictures he takes of you.

In which one of those types will be different levels of you drooling on something once again, sneezing, scrunching your face after eating something really sour, and, of course, the many expressions you make while reading a book he has already read as he tries to deduct which part you were exactly at by using only said expressions as reference.

The selfies of the both of you definetelly has kitty filters every once in a while, but many of them are actually just with this wrath demon being cute, specially when he lets you plop your chin on the top of his head while hugging him from behind, the result pic has him looking so smiley.

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Asmodeus

Where does he get so many memory space on his D.D.D. and where can I get it..?

Selfies of both of you are everywhere.

Pouting, with animal filters, kissy faces, squishing your cheeks together, simply staring at each other, sharing food, kisses, and a lot more other types of pictures.

Along with those selfies, he will also have some pictures of you alone. Sometimes he will tell you to look over in his direction before asking you to "smile~!"

Which has most likelly lead to many pictures of you doing everything else with your facial muscles except smiling. But it always brings one to his face instead, so it's hard to not give in and smile anyways in the end.

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Beelzebub

On a previous headcanon of mine I have said Beel takes pictures of you with his D.D.D. whenever he finds you attractive.

So far so good right? Only the term 'attractive' to him is very broad.

So his gallery has both aesthetic pictures of you (and some selfies with him) such as after his games, on gym clothes and with cerberus, and some cursed pictures such as of you scarfing down a whole baguette into your mouth, having an insane bed hair and of course, drooling on something.

His home screen is a selfie with both of you squishing each other's face with your hands.

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Belphegor

This little shit.

First off, of course he has a personal collection of the many stages of bed hair and sleeping faces you have. And yes, of you drooling too.

A personal collection of blurry pics of you tripping, jumping in the air as he puts his cold feet on your hips, and many of you sneezing.

And of course, the personal collection of zoomed in pictures of the many expressions you make, varying from dead inside to one of the widest of smiles you can make.

The selfies with him are, suprisingly, the most normal. Surprise kisses, laying heads on each other's shoulders, and of him laying on you. In which both of you got double chin on.

[aro-comics]

Squishes Vs Crushes (Part 3)

Squishes Vs. Crushes, Part 3/4 - The part on squishes!! I know a lot of you have been confused about what a squish actually is, and I hope that this can help 💚✨ As you've probably noticed, I've chosen to draw my ocs again. I'm so sorry that I keep dropping them in without context (although they are significant, I'll explain in the comments), but I ... couldn't bring myself to draw the person who I really felt that way for, in the words that I wrote. It’s something I'm still working through I guess. It’s hard to realize someone you used to think would follow for the rest of your life ... isn’t the right fit for you, that way. I've been an open book so far with this account, but I'm not ready to share this yet. I hope that I've still managed to convey the feeling regardless 💚 About slide 5 - I've had relatively close relationships with my squishes, which may not be helpful if you're not close with yours. The most important thing I believe describes a squish is the desire to be close to someone in a platonic way (however you define it for yourself), but wanting emotional intimacy commonly seen with romance. This isn't an end-all, be-all description, but it's how I percieve it/how I've seen it generally described. Feel free to comment if you've had a different experience! As always, I'd love to know what y'all think 💚💚💚

[Image Description:

Title slide: Celia excitedly raises her arms, and says “next up, we have-”

(Title) “The Squish, AKA platonic attraction”. In the corner is a note written: “May be commonly confused with, but is not actually a crush/romantic attraction”

Slide 2: Another sketch slide. Celia stands holding her hand to her chest, which now glows with a warm light orange. 

“In terms of physical sensation, it’s a lot more gentle of a warmth that fills your chest. There are definitely no”butterflies” or any feelings in your stomach.”

Slide 3: “Instead of wanting to do traditionally romantic activities, you’ll want to just … hang out with them, a lot.” 

A drawing of  Celia, playing video games with one of her former squishes. She says “Eat dust!” while he retorts “Didn’t you say you were good at this?”

(note from author: this never actually happened. I wish it did, though.)

“Eat pizza, get into ridiculous shenanigans together. Like the “best friend” kind of stuff.”

Slide 4: “It fills you all over with a sense of calm and peace - like a warm field on a sunny day.”

A younger Celia, sitting in a sunny schoolyard field filled with dandelions. Her former childhood friend/squish, a boy with short orange hair, is sitting with her. 

Slide 5: A pure text slide. “It’s something much deeper, and more grounded.” An asterisk is drawn, indicating to the reader to check the description later.

Slide 6: “They make you feel safe, and you want to stay with them - ”

A drawing of two of Celia’s OCs (who are named Collin and Lucian). The taller boy, a biracial black man with curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail and warm brown eyes grins as his friend, a shorter east asian boy with tan skin, medium length spiky dark hair and green eyes leans next to him. They appear to be talking.

Slide 7: “ - By their side -”

The two characters are now walking on what appears to be an ethereal lake. It is mirror like, and it reflects the rich blue and magenta sky onto the its surface. 

Slide 8: “- For a long, long time.”

The two walk into the distance, and the clouds and sky twinkle above them.

Slide 9: Celia speaks to the viewer, and says “It’s a lot more underwhelming than a crush, and you won’t have that same obsessive feeling.

Slide 10: Celia continues: “But, at the same time, I would say it’s a lot more meaningful of a feeling, and I’m more motivated to maintain a bond with that person.”]

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 6

If sharing a glass of wine with Harry the other night didn’t make you wish things could go back to normal--whatever that was--seeing him with CeCe before bed did.

She stomped her feet in the bathroom when you brushed through her hair. “I’m not tired! I want to stay up later with Maeve!”

Maybe that was another parenting fail in the last year--giving Maeve a later bedtime. She had bargained with you long and hard. She wanted more time on her phone but you wouldn’t budge. When you had heard enough of the I’m practically a teenager, mom! you figured there probably wasn’t an easy way to tell her that in two years she’d look back at herself and laugh.

So you caved, which you were doing more of lately but only with the silly stuff: bedtime, playing outside, dessert before dinner on occasion and even a PG-13 movie at a friend’s house when Maeve really got snippy with you.

But your energy was draining. After all the shit you’d put up with, you figured that hearing a few swears or seeing a high school party wouldn’t kill your 11-year-old.

CeCe, on the other hand, might be the death of you.

She was more outspoken than her sister, if that was possible. She had lungs on her that carried her voice through the house, especially when she whined.

“I want to stay up late!”

“You can’t,” you told her firmly. “I’m sorry. You’ll thank me tomorrow when you wake up refreshed.”

She made a face at you in the bathroom mirror, she probably didn’t understand what you meant but you smiled back at her anyway.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

You didn’t reply, instead let out a sigh and ignored the way she pouted until she stomped her feet again. “I want to watch TV!”

She smacked a fist on the counter when you didn’t reply, your eyes went wide with shock. “Cecelia Rose,” you scolded. “You do not yell at mommy like that or bang your fist on the counter.”

Maeve was nowhere to be found, likely scrolling in a group chat with other pre-teens who sent too many emojis. You almost wished she’d pop her head in to intervene--sometimes she was good at talking CeCe off the ledge, even if just to distract her.

The next best thing, though, when Harry knocked on the door and peered through the crack. “Everything alright?”

“Just dandy,” you forced a smile.

“Mommy is making me sleep,” CeCe frowned up at him.

“She is?”

“She is,” she nodded. “And I’m not tired.”

“Well, mommy has good reasoning, you’ll be sleepy tomorrow if you don’t sleep now.”

She didn’t seem to care, she crossed her arms over her chest once you finished the braid at the base of her neck and clapped her on the shoulder. “I won’t be tired.”

“Do you want to read together?”

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, almost like she was waiting for the catch. When he smiled again, she let out a hefty sigh but headed for the door. “Fine.”

Harry smiled over his shoulder at you and followed behind her, trailing her down the hall until she took the left turn into her bedroom with a butterfly carpet. She walked over the bookshelf, picked out The Big Book of Bedtime Stories, and pulled the sheets back.

You were in the doorway, watching as she fluffed her own pillow and then looked up at Harry. “Are you coming?”

She patted the spot next to her, gesturing for him to get close enough for her to fall asleep on his shoulder. He hesitated, stole a glance in your direction and then did as she said. He adjusted the pillow behind his head and CeCe wriggled beside him until she was comfortable. When she was, she nestled right into him, looked up at you and then said: “are you coming?”

You paused, parted your lips to let her down gently, but then something in you tugged your torso towards his. He was surprised by this, too, shifted in the tiny bed to make room for you to crawl over and squish yourself between CeCe and the wall.

Harry, with a smirk on his lips, looked over at you when he opened the book to CeCe’s favorite story. “Comfortable?”

“Go ahead,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the silliness of the moment but somehow wishing it was routine.

You put a hand on her pajama pants, petting her mindlessly as you listened to Harry’s voice when he thumbed through the pages. You’d had moments like these with Luke, when Maeve was tiny and CeCe was barely a thought. It’d been a while since you laid in bed with another adult, your child between you as she let out sleepy sighs and fluttered her eyelashes against her cheek.

The lights were dim now, you watched as his fingers pulled each page and tried to forget the way they pulled moans from your mouth.

He stopped halfway through, looked over at you and smirked when her breathing got heavier, but he kept going. He’d learned: if you stop too soon, she’d bolt awake and tell you she’d never fallen asleep to begin with.

He carried on like that for a while, glancing over to see if her eyes were open, sometimes catching your gaze but looking away quickly. Timid, like he was just as unsure as you were.

He finished a story and started a new one, and for a moment you wondered if he kept reading just to not disturb the scene: the two of you with your daughter sandwiched between. If someone looked in on it from the outside, they’d think you were a family.

Eventually he cut himself off mid sentence, derailed the story of the princess and the pea to ask you: “should I keep going?”

“No,” you laughed a little. “She’s out. We’re fine.”

He shut the book and pulled away from her gently. You lifted her head a little and tugged your arm out from the sheets and he placed the book on the desk to the right of her bed. He stuck his hand out to help you climb over her quietly. She stirred, opened her eyes and looked up at the two of you.

“Love you mommy,” she said, you bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Love you too, sweetie.”

“Love you, Harry,” she said through a sigh, eyes already closing when you turned around to leave. His eyes locked on yours, caught off guard and unsure of how to reply, but he looked down at her, lips in a small smile.

“Love you too, CeCe.”

And just like that, your life turned to a personally targeted and especially cruel single-mom hell. It was already there, practically. He played outside with your kids? He drove Maeve to play dates and picked CeCe up from ballet? He cooked dinner and poured you wine and tucked deep inside your memory were images of his head between your legs and his fingers laced with yours.

And now he said he loved one of them? You made a beeline for your bedroom, shut the door and didn’t say goodnight because you knew it would only get worse from here.

You were right. It was torture. Daydream, fairytale level torture when he helped Maeve with her homework the next night and even more painful when CeCe fell asleep with her head in his lap after a movie.

Maybe the worst part, though, was when you sat beside him on the patio a few nights later. The sun had set and you had a glass of crisp rosé in your hand when he turned to you.

“Look what CeCe brought home the other day,” he moved his phone to show you the screen. A drawing of stick figures, red and green and blue under a yellow house. He pinched the screen to zoom in, the actual artwork was nowhere to be found.

“What is it?” You tilted your head to the side and let out a quiet laugh. Her drawing needed work, but the color choices were bright and vibrant, just like her.

“Well, it’s us I think.”

“Us?” You looked up at him for a moment, CeCe hit the tennis ball into the pool and Maeve let out a frustrated groan.

“That’s her, with the tutu obviously. That’s Maeve and you right there--I’m assuming, by the way. This is all interpretation.”

You let out a laugh but watched when he zoomed in on the other stick figure.

“And that’s me, I think,” he tilted his head sideways now, looked at it closer. "With the guitar." You reached out your hand, brought his phone closer when he let you have it.

“When did she give this to you?”

“Monday--no, Tuesday, I think.”

“What did she say?”

He shrugged when you looked up. Maeve had gotten the leaf skimmer and CeCe clapped when the tennis ball was back on dry land.

“She said she drew ‘home.’”

“Home?”

He nodded, looked back over at you with raised eyebrows, a sense of nonchalance when he held his palm out to retrieve his phone. “Cute, right?”

It was cute, obviously. It was sweet and endearing and then you asked: “where’s the actual drawing?”

“On my nightstand.” He watched as CeCe tugged a hoola hoop from a bucket of toys. “Might frame it and show her, she’d be so excited.”

“She would be,” you nodded. “She’d love that.”

He left it alone, showed Maeve how to swing the bat better before you eventually decided it was too dark to sit outside. They sat at the island and ate ice cream, cherries and sprinkles and Harry even doused his in chocolate sauce.

Your heart ached for the family that CeCe drew: one with less complexity and one where age differences didn’t mean a thing. One where there was no such thing as death or divorce. Just four stick figures beneath a triangular roof with grass scribbled around the edges of paper.

You wished, desperately, that the four of you could be the stick figure family with no worries and no problems. You wished time could freeze and Harry’s house wouldn’t be ready in another 10 days. In a way you wished that Luke didn’t exist, you wished that your life was as simple as it looked on 8 x 11 inch paper with scribbled marker.

**

Zoey stood in your bedroom, lips pushed out in thought when you held up a different necklace. “This one is chunkier which I can’t tell if I like.”

She thought on it for a second, already dressed and ready to go like the timely human she was.

“I like the first one,” she nodded. “It’s more I’m the boss than that one.”

You laughed at her reasoning, held it up to your neck when CeCe burst through the doors with a scowl on her face. “Mommy, Maeve said I’m being stupid and annoying.”

You frowned at her but clasped the necklace around your neck, “that’s not very nice of her. Why’d she say that?”

“Because I was asking her to push me on the swing but she was too busy texting someone.”

You let out a sigh and made a face at Zoey in the mirror. Buying Maeve a cell phone was something you’d thought long and hard about. She begged and begged for one at her birthday, but something felt wrong about handing over a thousand dollar piece of technology to someone who was barely old enough to watch TV unsupervised.

Harry and Luke’s punching incident is what did you in, though. What if Maeve was at a friend’s house and something like that happened? You needed her to be able to contact you in case she felt unsafe or uncomfortable.

You also figured it would be a good way to distract her from what was really going on under your roof: mom fell for the guy who stayed in our guest suite and now it’s a hot mess.

“You’re not stupid or annoying,” Zoey reassured her. “Maeve just thinks she’s too cool for everyone now that she has a phone.”

CeCe let out a dramatic sigh. “You can say that again.”

A knock on the door, she turned around to see Harry. “Maeve said I’m stupid and annoying.”

Harry frowned and knelt in front of her. “That’s not true.”

“Oh I know,” she shrugged. “I just think that’s stupid and annoying of her to say that.”

You bit back a laugh when he looked up at you, shocked by her attitude and her wit before she ran off to her bedroom down the hall.

Harry stood back up and greeted Zoey. “Hi--how’re Shawn and Benny?”

“They’re great, and they’re on their own tonight which I am so grateful for.” She’d been dying for another night out of the house, she talked for weeks about what she wanted to wear and what she was going to drink. “You two should meet, you and Shawn. He’s not a musician by any means but he’s a killer steering wheel drummer when we have the classic rock hits on.”

Harry laughed, looked over to you quickly before nodding in Zoey’s direction. “I’d love that, maybe we could all have dinner.”

You nodded at the suggestion, hooked an earring into place before Harry remembered why he came in.

“Speaking of dinner, I have a meeting with my stylist but I’ll be there tonight, obviously. Probably around 7:15 though, is that alright?”

“Totally fine,” you nodded. He told you a few days earlier that you’d have to drive separately, quelling your anxiety about showing up together and going home together. Your living situation was no one’s business, but having Harry at the launch party to begin with was sure to stir up enough chatter, even if it was mostly from Tristan or Jeff.

You’d been trying to hide your anxiety. This was your biggest launch to date, arguably a step outside your comfort zone and feeling so uncertain about things at home left you feeling more nervous to have your employees and your friends in the same spot. The girls were headed to Shelli’s, a movie night and arts and crafts, she promised.

But it was setting in now, questions and thoughts and worries were bouncing around in your head like a pinball machine.

Would Maeve and CeCe behave for Shelli? Would they get along with each other? Would the launch party go well? Would Tristan bring a date? Would people like the body wash? Would Harry sit next to you at dinner? Would things ever feel normal between the two of you again or would he move out and fade out of your life like he’d never even entered it at all?

Zoey had stepped out into the hallway, phone pressed to her ear as Shawn asked a question about formula.

“You alright?”

Harry was still in the doorway, suit pants on and a white button down as he waited for your answer.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just nervous.”

“Hey,” he took a step towards you. “It’s going to be great. You’re going to be great.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and then withdrew it. “You are great.”

You smiled, appreciative of his kindness but already overthinking the way he pulled his hand away, like your skin was too hot to touch or like your bodies coming into contact was suddenly forbidden.

“I just want the body wash to do well and I want the dinner to go smoothly. Tristan always goes overboard with these events and I just hope that the food is good, I mean, I’ve never eaten here before--”

He laughed, “hey, it’s going to be fine. I might be a bit late but I’ll get there and Jeff and I can do something stupid to make you laugh and forget about the stress of it all. Everyone wins.”

You nodded, reassured by his words but also caught off guard by how easy it was to admit: “I’m really glad you’re coming.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “Kind of feels like we haven’t seen each other much lately.”

You lifted your eyebrows at that, a week since Luke’s surprise visit and a week since Harry had so much as looked your way for more than ten seconds. You hadn’t told him to stop, you never said you didn’t want to keep sleeping with him or anything of the sort, but he took your words on the patio to mean that, apparently.

How were you supposed to backtrack? How were you supposed to have a conversation with him about it when there’d never been one in the first place?

If you hadn’t defined it originally, how were you supposed to quantify the change that had occurred as the bruise on his skin faded to a pale yellow?

“Okay,” Zoey laughed, a shake of her head when she ended the call and came back into the master suite. “How hard is it to find the bottle brush in the drawer where it’s literally been for the entirety of Benny’s short life?” She cut herself off when she looked up from her phone to see how close Harry stood to you.

He backed up. “Good luck, you’re going to kill it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You nodded. “Yes, right. Thanks.”

He turned on his heel and offered a smile to Zoey, whose eyes immediately flew to yours once he was descending the stairs. You briefed her over lunch shortly after Luke had shown up on your doorstep, but Zoey was decidedly team Harry and had a hard time even admitting that he shouldn't have gotten involved.

Her eyes were wide, lips set in a frown as if she’d just witnessed the most adorable thing. “He likes you so much.”

“No, Zoey, stop.”

“I leave the room for one second and you're having a heart to heart?”

“We weren't having a heart to heart,” you rolled your eyes. “He was just offering some encouragement.”

Partially true. His words were encouraging and that seemed to be the point of him coming up here. But you couldn’t admit to Zoey that part of your anxiety about the night was related to him. It felt stupid to admit that pulling back made you miss him, made you feel like something was missing.

Those feelings left your heart and your head a mess, unsure about what you needed and wanted and even more confused about what was right for everyone.

You turned back to the mirror to put your other earring in place. Zoey didn’t say more, she didn’t need to. She smiled at your reflection and you both knew that your words didn’t even begin to capture the complexity of it all. But you had a launch party to get to.

Your champagne flute was filled when you walked in, which was a great step towards quelling the nerves. Tristan was already working the crowd with grace and poise, smile plastered on his face when he bragged about all of the hard work your team had put in on this.

Zoey was excited to pump and dump in the bathroom, your employees were already plucking hors d'oeuvres from silver platters, and you just tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest of wishing your dad was here. He’d be proud, no doubt, he’d be excited for you and he’d be cracking jokes with Irv in the corner as Jeff tried to keep them under control.

The emptiness that he left in your life was something you’d live with forever, you were sure of this until suddenly there was a man in your house with a dimpled smile and patience for your children that you never saw coming.

Another look around the room, balloons in the corner, high heels and lipstick on the women that made your team what it was. A moment of excitement, of celebration, and yet your heartbeat picked up when you realized that you were here, alone.

You plucked your phone out to check the time, 7:24pm. He’d said 7:15--he clasped his hands on your shoulders like he meant it and you wondered where he was. Tristan pulled you over to another friendly face before you could sink too far down that rabbit hole.

Zoey had Shawn, Shelli had Irv, Jeff always had someone. Even Tristan had Tinder dates for the nights that he got lonely. You had the girls, of course, you had a life that you loved and a job you were proud of. But what did that matter if you didn’t have someone to share it with, to whisper to in the mornings when sun streamed through the windows and you were woken up too early by daughters that begged for adventures?

You’d grown used to feeling that way. Your marriage was over long before the papers were signed, but your father’s sudden decline left you reeling and unsure which way was up.

You’d never admit it aloud, but Harry showing up brought you back down to earth and kept you tethered to a life that felt manageable and doable and somehow possible.

Another glance at the time, 7:32pm. Tristan asked when you wanted to make a toast and thank everyone for coming to celebrate, you made an excuse and tried to buy yourself time like his absence was currency.

You wanted him here, you wanted his arm around your shoulders and you wanted to introduce him to your team--take a bite of his dinner and then bring him home like that was where he belonged.

How embarrassing, though, you talked yourself up enough to let him come and introduce him to the rest of the girls at work, only to be stood up or forgotten or altogether abandoned. Your fantasy of being with him felt even more stupid and naive when you realized that it’d probably never be like that.

Your glass was refilled at 7:49pm, Zoey laughed when your head of marketing recounted the embarrassing moment when a picture of Maeve ended up on the company instagram story.

Frustration, anger, maybe both when the clock struck 8pm. Forty-five minutes late without a text message? But those emotions were drowned out by the judgment: why do you care, he’s not your boyfriend, this doesn’t mean anything.

You answered too quickly when he called, phone pressed to your face: where are you?

Pulling up, down the street, I’m so sorry.

You handed your drink to Tristan, pushed out to the parking lot to find him jogging towards the door in the dark sky.

“Hi, hey, why are you out here?” his smile faded when he could see you were upset.

“I had no clue where you were and you didn’t even bother to text me--” you were stopped dead on the sidewalk, the sky was a light purple and he grabbed your hand to tug you back towards the entrance.

“I’m sorry, I know, my meeting went late and the traffic was terrible, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“You said you’d be here at 7:15 and I’ve been in there by myself--”

He didn’t understand, his eyebrows dipped on his forehead in confusion and he pulled at your arm again. “I know, I’m sorry, but let’s get back in there so you can--”

“No, Harry,” you yanked your hand out of his grasp. A deep breath, a twinkling light above the horizon, a plane on final approach to LAX. “Just give me a minute.”

He sighed, looked over his shoulder to the big windows that allowed a peek into the party. He didn’t say anything, waited for you to speak when the light at the intersection across the street turned green.

“I was stupid for thinking this would be a good idea,” you said aloud, arms crossed in the parking lot. “But it’s fine, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s obviously a big deal,” he held a hand out, gesturing to the emotion in your voice. “I fucked up, I get that. I’m sorry--but I tried to call you and tell you I was going to be late, something’s wrong with my phone.”

Happy couples strolled out of the restaurant, arms linked with to-go boxes in hand. The air was still warm, streetlights illuminated the wrinkle in his forehead when he took a step forward. “Is this about more than the party?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his ability to read you and sense the real tension beneath the surface. So you lied: “No.”

“Y/N,” he said your name like he knew your words weren’t true. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should break the silence that you’d both been living in for weeks. Unspoken, so far--the feelings and the sex and the uncertainty of what it meant had been woven into your life and now you were about to tug the thread and see if it unraveled.

“We’ve been kidding ourselves, Harry, don’t you think?” When he tilted his head to the side, you took it as a cue to continue. “We’ve been acting like a couple and you’ve been acting like the father of my children and we can’t do that.”

His lips parted and your heart seemed to stop when he didn’t say anything. He licked his lips, hands in his pockets when he said: “okay.”

“Okay?”

An incredulous tone in your voice put him on the defense.

“What do you want me to say?” His shoulders lifted to his ears, a shake of his head when he dropped your gaze. “Living with you and spending time with the girls has been the greatest thing I’ve had all year, I mean that. But it’s your house, they’re your children. It’s your family.”

He was right, but it didn’t mean the words didn’t sting like salt in a wound when he asked: “Do you want me to move out?”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

He scoffed, upset or bothered or maybe both. “I was never trying to overstep any boundaries.”

“I know you weren’t,” you said quickly. “That’s the problem, all of this happened so naturally and you fit into our lives so well and the girls fell in love with you and I--”

You cut yourself off, clamped your mouth together as if the words would pry their way out.

“You what?”

“I don’t want them to get hurt again.”

He pointed a finger to his chest, anger on his face. “By me? You think I would do something to hurt them?”

“Not intentionally, Harry,” you let your arms flail against your sides. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t. Their dad left, their grandfather died, and then you moved in and suddenly it’s like you’re the missing piece they never had but that’s not realistic!”

“Why not?!” He was bothered now, more emotion in his eyes when his hands went up to run through his hair.

“Because you’re you. You’re a musician. You’re recording an album and going on tour and you’re not really able to be present. You couldn’t even show up tonight!”

“I’m not Luke,” he shook his head.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then why does it bother you that I was late? Why does that matter if I’m here now?”

“Because if you’d do it to me you’d do it to them. We don’t need to be left by another man this year.”

You didn’t mean for the words to come off so biting and harsh. He nodded slowly, chest deflated before he brought his eyes back up to you. “Fine. I can get my stuff and stay at Jeff’s.”

The shift in his demeanor felt heavy, his shoulders angled away and suddenly the magnetic pull between your chests was no longer there, like the thread had been snipped altogether and your words had been the scissors.

“I--I’m not trying to be a dick.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I understand.”

“I just don’t want them to get hurt.”

“Or do you not want to get hurt?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it,” he said, a few steps towards you when his face softened. “Tell everyone I say hi. I’ll go get my things before the girls are home and I’ll be out of your hair.”

He let his arm snake around your waist, a kiss to the side of your head before you could stop him--not that you would have.

He left you there in the parking lot, alone again for the third time this year, walked out on and deserted when your eyes welled with tears. You turned on your heels to head inside, hoping that Tristan had kept things together and hoping that the champagne was still flowing.

Jeff found you first, hand on your elbow when he spotted you in the hallway near the bathroom, mascara on your cheeks when you tried to soak up tears with a folded napkin. “Hey--where have you been?”

“Harry’s moving out,” you said it quickly. “He’s going to--uh--he’ll stay at your place, I think, for now.”

He looked over his shoulder and back at the gathering behind you. “Is he here?”

“I found him in the parking lot--he left, though.”

“What happened?”

Where did you start? When was the line crossed? Was it when he started playing with the girls in the backyard? Was it when he carried CeCe up to her bed after Maeve’s sleepover? Or was it all the way back when he came to your birthday party and kissed you at the top of the stairs in an empty house?

“Nothing, it’s just time for him to move out,” you shook your head, embarrassed by the emotion streaming down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, shook your head and blotted your face again. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation and it certainly wasn’t the time for the tears.

“Y/N, stop. You’re letting him walk out of your life just like that?”

You looked up at him, thrown off by his question. “You don’t even know what happened. I’m fine, it’s all fine.”

“No--I don’t know, but I also know that I’ve never seen you as happy as you are with him and the girls.”

“He’s twenty-four, Jeff.”

“So what? That’s going to stop you from doing what’s right for you?”

“How is it right for me? He can’t be the type of person that Maeve and CeCe need.”

“Can he actually not be, or is the age thing getting in the way?”

“I can’t talk to you about this right now,” you pulled away from him, bothered by his strong opinions and his know-it-all attitude. Some things never changed.

“Don’t ruin something good just because you don’t know how it will end.”

You gave him the finger as you walked away, forced out a laugh and tried to flip the switch: happy, grateful, excited and ready for another glass of champagne.

He dropped it then, you left him with no choice but to follow you back out to the party. He ate mini cheesecakes before the crowd started to disperse and drove you home, a kiss on the cheek before you climbed out. Call me in the morning, he said. Translation: I hope you change your mind overnight.

Harry’s car was gone, and if you had to guess, the bed upstairs was made and the drawers were empty. His keys weren’t on the hook by the back door and when Shelli dropped off the girls and they raced inside, Maeve’s face fell.

“Where’s Harry?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought this far ahead, still numb from the whiplash of emotions. “He’s at Uncle Jeff’s--he’s gonna stay there from now on, I think.”

“Wait, so he moved out?”

“Harry’s gone?” CeCe asked.

“Not forever, no, no--he’s just not going to live here.”

“Why not?”

“He has to work,” you spit out quickly. “He’s busy.” What were you supposed to tell them? Mommy’s an idiot.

“Why does that mean he can’t live here?”

“Because he just can’t,” you said, a sigh when you knew the answer wasn’t good enough for Maeve. She must have sensed the emotion in your voice, though, because she didn’t push it.

“Can you bring your sister upstairs and start getting ready for bed, please?”

Shelli was at the island, quiet and observant when Maeve let out a reluctant sigh but ushered CeCe forward. They climbed in silence, and when the faucet was turned on, all bets were off.

“What on earth happened?”

“He can’t stay here, Shelli. We can’t do whatever it was we were doing.”

“Which was...”

“Pretending that he was their dad or something and me pretending that sleeping with him was normal.”

“And where does being happy factor into this nonsense equation?”

“It doesn’t.” You busied yourself at the sink, grabbed for the sponge and wiped invisible crumbs from the granite to keep your hands busy. “After Luke and my dad, I was just stupid, okay? It was poor judgment.”

She set her purse down on a stool and watched you closely. “Why does your happiness always come last, Y/N?”

“Because! My happiness doesn’t matter if the decision is stupid. Me plus Harry just doesn’t make sense!” You whispered at her, voice wrought with emotion. “He’s so young and busy and he’s in the industry and--”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Which part?”

“The industry, him being a musician.”

You waved her off like she wasn’t sniffing the truth out of you with ease. “It’s just a piece of it.”

“Y/N, just because your parents’ marriage didn’t work doesn’t mean you’re destined for the same future.”

You stopped wiping at that. “Really? Cause I’m thirty-two and already divorced.”

“But that’s because Luke is an asshole,” she reasoned, “not because of you or the girls.”

A sigh from between your lips, fervent wiping again with the tough side of the sponge, you were sure you felt something sticky. “Well, I doubt Harry would ever be the kind to settle down. That’s unrealistic. He’s famous and busy and he probably is sick of being on carpool duty anyway--probably wants to get back to snorting cocaine off of someone’s tits.”

She let out a quick laugh, shook her head. “You are really in love with him, aren’t you?”

“No,” you looked up at her again and then back at the counter. “I’m just being honest.”

“I don’t think he was ever snorting cocaine off of anyone’s anything. I might not know him as well as Jeffrey does, but, he seems pretty happy here with you three.”

“The girls loved having him here,” you said the thought aloud, it escaped into the air before you could realize Shelli didn’t need anymore ammunition.

“And did you?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” you moved back to the sink, wrung out the sponge and then turned to face her. “It was nice, I guess.”

“Well, then I guess that makes four.”

“Four what?”

“Four people who were all happy with the way things were going. Before you went and turned it upside down out of fear.”

“Okay,” you held up your hands, hoping to end the conversation. It was too late and you were tired--the final glass of champagne had your eyes heavy in the passenger seat of Jeff’s car. “I need to sleep.”

She let out a sigh and picked up her purse, moved around the counter to come and wrap her arms around you. “Don’t let your past ruin your future.”

“Goodnight,” you said sweetly, hoping that your tone would usher her out of the house and into her car, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

She laughed, called over her shoulder when she made her way for the door. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

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[perplexingly]

your art is so wonderful. where do you find your references for your various hugs and hands and faces?

Thank you!

I just base all my hug drawings on this medieval manuscript:

Which sounds like a joke but if you look through my artworks you’ll notice that a loot of the interactions are just two people squishing their faces together. I just think this manuscript is the most beautiful art piece I’ve seen in my life and I try to emulate this feeling whenever I can.

Anyway, for a more detailed response.

I don’t have some singular website with references saved, but I do either of the two things: either already have a poses in mind, in which case I start by making a really really crude sketch and then very slowly improve it with each layer of sketching. In this case, I just look up references for different body parts separately, rather than looking up the whole pose (or look in the mirror). Drawing doesn’t come easily to me so I really need multiple layers of nearly identical sketches to be able to figure out the pose. Here’s an example:

In a situation when I don’t have poses in mind, I tend to just scroll through stock images, paintings, pictures of sculptures, and still frames from movies/musicals, and make a lot of quick thumbnails, until I find something that feels nice. This is the quality we’re talking about:

I don’t keep the original references (it would be impractical considering how many sketches I do haha), but instead, after I pick one of the thumbnails, I once again look up stock references for different body parts separately, like this:

By the way, when it comes to those initial thumbnails, although stock photos are always an option, I recommend either looking at stills from movies, old masters’ paintings or sculptures. The reason is composition - which isn’t something that’s necessarily important in stock photos, but is innate to movies and paintings. Sculptures are even better because they’re like 3 dimensional paintings - composition is important from every angle.

So I don’t have a lot of examples of this workflow from start to finish, but here’s two examples where the final piece turned out similar enough to the original that you can clearly see the influence:

(The original sculpture is by Gustav Vigeland, and the original painting by Adam Styka)

Just a final note: I know I showed only digital artworks, but my process is exactly the same when I do traditional art. I have an A6 sketchbook where I do all my thumbnails, and after I’m satisfied, I do a full size sketch with a colored pencil in a bigger sketchbook. I don’t use a black pencil until I’m confident with the poses, which usually takes some trials and errors with multiple colored pencils and erasers.

Drawing unfortunately doesn’t come easily to me, and I require all those thumbnails and sketching to figure out the poses 😅 but hopefully this answers the question!

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 5

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4804

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

*********************************************************************

It had been a few days since Bakugo had visited. Dabi was so torn between wanting to punish you for being a brat and praising you for finally walking. On one hand it was a law that you worked out every day. It was in writing and you had tried to tell him you weren’t going to do it.

Part of him knew he was only so worked up over it because it had happened in front of Bakugo. If it had happened any other day, he would have given you a quick spank and just thrown your ass in the pool anyways.

The look on your face had made it worth it though. To see that tenacious side of you, the one that looked like it was ready for a fight… Yeah, he could get used to seeing that look.

Then there was the aftercare of your little outburst. You had let him hold you all night. He didn’t know if that was intentional or if you had only reached for him in sleep out of instinct. He remembered how you had reached for Bakugo and it gave him a headache. For now, he chose to not make a big deal about it.

It had been a long day and you were ready to pass out. Dabi had taken the training wheels off and was starting to make you walk more and more on your own without his help. He was always quick to laugh when you fell on your ass with a taunt of, “You look like Shoto when he was a toddler. Don’t worry I didn’t help him either.” The only time he did help you, was to help you into the high barstool at the kitchen island. Making more jokes about you needing help getting into your highchair and asking if you needed him to feed you too.

You didn’t know if it was the fatigue or the teasing, but something had you in a foul mood. You flipped him off, ~I hate you~.

Dabi’s eyes softened in an almost annoyingly affectionate way, “No you don’t.” He handed you the bowl of ice cream you had begged for. “Good work today. I gave you an extra scoop.” He winked, took out his own spoon, and quickly stole a bite.

Your mouth hung open at his audacity. ~No! Wrong! Hate!~

He laughed loudly, “I said I gave you an extra scoop! You’re not gonna miss one bite!” He reached his spoon back out, “Just for that I’m gonna take another.”

You smacked his hand away and furrowed your eyebrows at him, ~Mine.~

He feigned shock, “I’m sorry… did you just… hit me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoveled a huge bite of ice cream into your mouth. It was way too much and if you weren’t so intent on being a brat you would have laughed. Dabi however was in no laughing mood as he saw the melted ice cream dripping down your chin.

He reached out squished your cheeks together with one hand. He hovered over you, enjoying the height difference and absolutely losing it over the look of pure innocence in your eyes as the ice cream continued to slip past your lips. He leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice, “You’re making a mess… Now. Swallow.”

Your eyes connected with his and you obediently swallowed what was left of the ice cream. He swiped a thumb across your bottom lip to collect what was left before sucking into his mouth all the while keeping his eyes focused on yours.

You swear he was leaning in even closer when the loud clanging of your spoon hitting the table broke you apart.

He cleared his throat and pushed himself away from you. You had to focus really hard on not pouting. Why were you disappointed? Had you wanted him to kiss you? Or were you just horny again? This was a question you had been faced with a lot in your adult life, because as much as you hate to admit it… your quirk does make you a total horn dog. It’s been what? YEARS since you had good and proper sex.

You shuddered as you remembered back to the lab. You had sex there a few times… but… you couldn’t really say if it was any good on the account that you don’t remember most of it. What you did remember, you wish you didn’t. They hadn’t called it sex… they called it ‘research’, and boy where they a fan of their research.

Dabi lifted your chin to force you to look at him, “Hey where did you go just now?” He saw the tears pooling in your eyes and he felt a spike of panic at the thought the he was the cause of them. “Hey… hey I’m sorry. I take things too far sometimes.” He went to lower his hand but your gripped it and brought it back to your face. Needing his presence to anchor you to the present before you spiraled into memories of the past.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay. I need you to take a deep breath then I need you to hold it until I say so. Can you do that?” You hadn’t even realized your breathing had started to tighten until he said something. You nodded slowly as you tried to remember back to your hero training. You took a deep breath in through your nose. “Good girl. Now hold it and count to ten.” You did as he said before letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. “You’re doing great, just keep doing that. Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Your eyes widened. Did you want to be held? Or did you want to lock yourself in your room. You didn’t even know. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, what you needed. Would you find comfort in his embrace, or would you feel confined? So, you just stared back at him and shrugged.

“Law number one. I need a yes or no. You can do that. I know you can.” You gulped and nodded your head. He picked you up, but instead of picking you up bridal style like he usually did, he picked you up like he would a child. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

He walked you back to your room abandoning the rest of the ice cream to melt on the counter. You buried you face into his neck and you felt his fingers comb through your hair. He sat down on the bed and pulled you close to him. “I’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks. They suck… ass. I get that. The only thing you can do is breath and try and clear you mind.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, and you could feel your heartbeat start to slow down to match his. “So, uh… I guess I’ll try to distract you. I could tell you a story about me. Would you like that?”

You could already feel yourself starting to calm down, but you didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to learn more about him, so you simply nodded and burrowed further into him.

You could feel him shift uncomfortably underneath you. “When I first got away from my family. I was just a dumb kid. I was angry and hell bent on proving to anyone who even looked my way that I was strong. Once I was running an errand for the league at a local market and I saw Shoto. It was after his accident, but his hair was a dead giveaway. He was there with Fuyumi, I think she was just trying to keep him busy.”

He leaned back and pulled you with him making the two of you more comfortable. “I saw his scar and was so sure that our dad did it. I was ready to hunt him down and kick his ass.” He sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “But then the squirt did the weirdest thing. It was like he was drawn to me. I looked nothing like the brother he knew. Black hair, scars, and staples, But he broke free of Fuyumi and ran straight towards me. Out of instinct I leaned down to pick him up, but he stopped right as he got to me. He put a hand up to my face and then to his own scar. He looked me square in the eyes and said ‘Ouch’ and then just ran away.”

You smiled, that definitely sounded like Todoroki. The more you thought about it, there were definitely some small similarities between the two brothers. Not that you’d mention that to either of them.

Dabi continued to talk and tell you stories until you eventually drifted off into dreams of young Dabi and what he would have been like. Your mind conjured up images of him in a UA uniform. Him competing in a sports festival. Him in a library studying for exams.

Unfortunately, your dreams didn’t last long. You woke a few hours later with a stabbing pain in your abdomen. You whimpered as you tried to roll over in an attempt to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Instead you rolled straight into the lean body of Dabi. Oh no. Dabi. You needed to get cleaned up before he woke up.

You tried to roll away from him, but his arm snaked around you and pulled you closer, “Y/n? What’s wrong? Have a bad dream?” He remembered that he wasn’t going to get a verbal answer, so he opened his eyes to see you looking absolutely miserable. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

You nodded but then winced when a really bad cramp rocked through you. You had always had really painful periods, but you hadn’t had to feel it in it’s full affects in years.

“Bullshit, you don’t look okay. Are you sick?”

Not even bothering to answer, you pushed away from him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. He leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on and that’s when it clicked for him. “Holy shit! How are you even alive, that’s a fuck ton of blood. I’ve been stabbed before and I didn’t bleed that much.”

You knew he was just being dramatic, but it still made you cringe that he was witnessing this. You could hear him stripping the sheets as you turned the shower on. Now all your recent mood swings made sense. Just last night you had been pissed, horny, and crying all in the span of several minutes. Stupid hormones.

When you stepped out of the shower there was a box of tampons and a box of pads sitting on the counter next to the sink. Just seeing them made you pout. You fucking hated your period.

You stepped out once you were dressed and heard the buzz of the dryer. Surely there was no way Dabi had cleaned the sheet that fast. You walked out of the bedroom to see him rushing towards you with a massive blanket. He stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway. “Uh… okay. So, game plan. I warmed up a blanket. I have Fruits Basket queued up and chocolate chip pancakes are on stand bye.”

Your eyes widened ~How?~

“How what? How did I know?” You nodded and he you swear to god he blushed. “I uh… I may have texted my brother. Who texted Bakugo, who called me, and now here we are.”

That made more sense. Katsuki had always been the only one who could handle your mood swings when you were menstruating. Everyone else claimed you were too scary. When you were younger your quirk would become unpredictable and it would randomly activate at the most inconvenient times. Your quirk used to be heavily influenced by your emotions, and when your monthly cycle came around it was almost impossible to control your emotions.

It took him a few tries but eventually Katsuki got the routine down. Warm blanket, something sweet, and some sappy anime, which we’d never admit it, but he actually loved.

You accepted the blanket from him and hobbled towards the couch. You pulled your knees to your chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Dabi disappeared but quickly returned with the pancakes. “I’m an idiot for not thinking about this. It obviously was going to happen at some point. You’ve been here for about three weeks.”

~Thank you~ You took the pancakes from him and he gave you a weird look.

“Okay I’m not good at the whole taking care of others thing. So… do I leave you alone? Do you expect me to watch this shit with you?”

You glared at him as you ate your pancakes and because you were already in a bad mood… you shrugged. Did you do it on purpose to piss him off. Of course.

He growled before throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “You’re lucky you don’t feel good you fucking brat. I’m really trying to be nice.”

You ignored him and hit play. You knew you were being ridiculous, but you also couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you wanted his attention any way you could get it. You finished your pancakes and were about two episodes into the show, but your cramps hadn’t subsided. You whined as you hugged the blanket around you and started to toss around trying to find a position, any position that would help with your cramps.

You thought Dabi had fallen back asleep, so you were scared shitless when his arms wrapped around you and pulled you down onto his chest. He was laying on his back pinning your chest to his. You could barely see the blue of his eyes in the dark. He looked so tired though. “Just smack me if it’s too much… but do you trust me?”

You bit your lip but nodded anyways. You knew by now that Dabi would stop if you asked him to. So, while you were nervous about what he was going to do, you also trusted him to listen to you.

He reached his hands around and pushed his hands just past the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your breath hitched but his hands stopped there. You wondered what he was doing, but then his hands started to heat up and oh shit did it feel good. It was like he was your own personal heating pad.

You hummed into his neck and shifted a little bit to sink further into him. You hiked one of your legs up and wiggled to push yourself into his hands more, chasing the warm comfort.

You stayed like that for a while. The tops of his fingers ghosting over the curve of your ass as his palms pressed into your lower back. It was honestly impressive how he his hands were just hot enough to feel good without burning you.

Dabi sucked in a breath, “You like that huh?” He pulled you closer to him. His hands started to knead into your lower back as he buried his nose into your hair. You let out a groan at how good it felt. Before you could stop yourself you grinded down on his thigh. “Oh, you really like it…” You could hear the playful note in his voice. “Like I said… stop me if it’s too much.”

You knew what direction this was heading, and you didn’t care because it felt so good. His hands slipped lower and grabbed your ass and started to massage your cheeks before pulling you down hard into his thigh. “I heard somewhere…” His mouth was at your ear now nipping at the shell of it. “That the best thing for period cramps…” He moved his thigh up to meet your center as his hands pulled you down and moved you back and forth. “Is an orgasm.” Your fingers found his shirt and gripped onto it while you started to ride his thigh. “I would be selfish not to help you out.” His lips found your neck and he pressed gentle featherlike kisses there, making you sigh. “Take what you need from me baby.”

He gave your ass a hard squeeze before giving it a slap. “Fuck, your ass is perfect.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back and his lips met yours and you moaned at how delicious it was. This. This is what you needed. You needed someone to make you forget. To make you feel like you weren’t some fragile and broken toy. He was letting you take the lead while he maintained all of the control.

Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Your quirk activated and in your touch you could feel his overwhelming desire. You could also feel hesitation. He must be worried about pushing you too far. You pushed your lust back at him through your touch to reassure him you were more than okay this. He growled and deepened your kiss before yanking himself away. “Fuck Y/n! I-I think you’re quirk triggered. You smell… god you smell so fucking good!”

You grit your teeth. You wanted to tell him sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips. His hands came to your hips and pulled you, so you were now grinding on his already hard dick. Your hands stopped his as you shook your head no. Now you were worried you were the one taking advantage of him. You knew your smell could be overwhelming.

He panted as he bucked up, “No, please don’t stop on my account. It’s fucking hot. I promise you y/n… if you ever let me…” One of his hands found it’s way back to your ass while the other snaked into your shorts and started to rub your clit through your underwear. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucking worshiped.”

You felt your orgasm quickly building and Dabi could tell. He could see the way your chest heaved and he could feel the way you began to frantically snap your hips. He kissed up your neck while he picked up the speed on your clit. “You want to know why?” He bucked his hips hard up into yours. “Because you’re a good girl. You are MY good girl.”

That was all you needed. You shook and your thighs squeezed around him. He kept going to help you ride it out as long as possible. You felt all your tension bleed out. All of the stress of the past couple days, hell the past couple weeks, didn’t even matter anymore. And all you did was ride his thigh.

When you finally had enough you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Panting you nuzzled back up to him and his hands trailed up and down your spine. “That’s my girl. Good job.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled the blanket back up over you. “Now let’s get some sleep.” We can skip the routine tomorrow. We can just do this instead. One day off won’t kill you.”

You hummed as you melted into him. Your eyes drooped closed and the last thing you remembered was Dabi grabbing your thigh and hitching your leg over his waist.

“The gag won’t be enough. We need to make sure she doesn’t even have the option of talking.” That voice sent chills down your spine. It belonged to the man you only knew as Dr. A3. They never used their names around you. Just an extra precaution in case you were to escape. Dr. A3 was the one who seemed to be in charge of all our your “experiments”. He was psychotic and you hate him with every cell in your body.

You were back on that table. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything but the blindfold.

“I can handle that, but my quirk will eventually ware off.” That was Cogernot. He was technically a villain who was being held in the same way you were. His quirk allowed him to manipulate with people’s cognition. He could turn off your senses, mess with your memories, and so much more. It was common that they grouped the two of you together in the lab.

“That’s fine how long do you think it’ll last?”

Cogernot sighed, “It’s different with every person but the more often I do it the longer it’ll last. But you have to be careful. If I mess with her too much it could become permanent.”

Dr. A3 laughed, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If that girl were able to talk, she could easily escape, or even worse she could make us all kill one another.” He ran a hand through your tangled hair and you winced in pain. “Besides girls like her are meant to be seen and not heard. We have another girl here who can walk through people’s dreams and convince them to do all kinds of stuff. We don’t need y/n’s honeyed words anymore. Do it.”

“If you say so… But don’t come crying to me when I accidentally break your favorite toy.”

You felt a hand press to your forehead, and you felt something snap.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you found that you were still laying on top of Dabi in his living room. You were able to keep your panic at bay by slowly breathing and counting in your head. You matched your breathing to Dabi’s, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

You looked at his sleeping face. He looked so different like this, when he wasn’t yelling at you or teasing you. A flush came over your cheeks when you remembered what happened earlier that morning. You traced your finger over the staples under his eyes.

His hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, so you shoved on his shoulder to make him look at you. “I literally just woke up and you’re already begging for attention.” It drove you crazy that he wouldn’t open his eyes to look at you. The asshole knew you couldn’t talk…. Couldn’t talk.

The dream came crashing back to you. You pushed yourself off of him and went in search for your journal.

“Wait y/n… come on. Come back. I’ll open my eyes. Don’t throw a fucking temper tantrum over it Jesus.”

You came back with your journal and sat down on the table that was across from the couch and started to write everything you could remember about your dream. Dabi sat up and tried to smooth his hand up your thigh but you paused your writing long enough to slap it away. ~Not now~

“There’s no way you’re that mad. Come on what are you writing. Is this our first fight? Are fighting right now? That’s cute.”

You scowled as you shoved your journal in his face. The look on his face went from amused to concerned as he started reading.

“Wait that’s where Cogernot has fucking been this whole time? We thought he died.” He looked at you “How many times did he use his quirk on you?”

You shrugged and for once he didn’t yell at you for it.

He ran a hand through his white hair. “So, if this is really just his quirk and not some kind of trauma then it should ware off soon. That idiots quirk usually only lasts for a couple of hours though, sometimes a few days. I’ve never seen it last this long.” He stood up and started to pace. You watched him go back and forth a few times before he threw his hands in the air, “Shit!” He picked up a pillow and it immediately turned to ash.

He looked back to you and saw the alarm in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m overreacting. It’s just – That fucking idiot may have permanently fucked you up.” You cringed at his words. Was that how he saw you? Fucked up?

He started pacing again, “He told me once there was a way to override his quirk though. You just have to convince your brain that it’s dying. Something about that kicks it into gear and nullifies his quirk.” He looked to the pool and then to you. “We could drown you! I know CPR, it’ll be fine.”

~NO NO NO~ The look in Dabi’s eyes was starting to scare you. He looked like he was ready to do it no matter what you said. As much as you wanted to talk again, you didn’t think it was worth risking your life over. But apparently, he did. Apparently learning sign, and reading your journal was just too much work for him. If he was this desperate to fix it… if he was willing to drown you just so you could talk….

You were ripped from your thoughts when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and hit him while tears streamed down your cheeks. There was no way he would go through with this… right?

You heard the sliding glass door open and all the sudden you were only steps away from the pool. You couldn’t see into his eyes, you couldn’t see what was going on in that fucked up head of his. You slid a hand under his shirt right before he got to the pool and did the only thing you could think of. You showed him how scared you were. You made him feel that terror. He paused only for a moment before jumping in the pool.

He let go only for a few seconds just so he could pull your back to his chest and whisper into your hair. “I know you’re going to hate me, but eventually you will think me for this.”

And then he was shoving you under. You clawed at his arms, ripping several of his staples out. You poured all of your terror and your pain into your touch and grabbed his wrists that were holding you under.

This was fucked up, this was so fucked up. You didn’t want to die. Why was he doing this? He didn’t even know if it would work! Your panic wasn’t making it any easier. You were losing oxygen fast and before you knew it you were starting to black out. You were going to die… You were going to drown in the same pool he had held you in so sweetly and helped you rehabilitate in. Your fingers ceased their scratching and your arms fell limp.

He didn’t bring you back up until you had stopped moving completely. He pulled you back up to the surface and immediately laid you down on the hard-concrete outside of the pool. In seconds he was on you preforming CPR. “Come on… You’re strong. You can take a little drowning. Hell, I’ve drowned a few times. Well I’ve been waterboarded… I don’t know if that exactly the same thing.” He nervously babbled to your unconscious body as he continued his chest compressions. “Come on y/n! Fuck!” He pinched your nose and breathed into you. Just a few hours ago his lips had been on yours for an entirely different reason and he desperately wished he could go back to that moment now.

He continued his chest compressions tears pooling in his eyes. “COME ON Y/N!” He did this. This was his fault. His father was right about him. The world was right about him. He’s a monster. He was supposed to be protecting you. You trusted him and he did this to you. He had felt your fear, your pain, and he did it anyway.

The thought of you never getting to talk again had thrown him into a panic. The thought of those fuckers taking apart of who you were away from you made him see red. He acted impulsively and now he’s paying the price.

“WAKE UP! PLEASE!”

You coughed and water came flooding out of your mouth. He cried out in relief and rolled you onto your side and patted your back to help you expel the water from your lungs.

It fucking burned. Your throat was raw from the chlorine and your brain was foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

He reached his hand out to touch your face but you caught it. You stared into his eyes with as much hate as a person could have and gripped his hand so hard you could feel your nails cutting into his skin, “Fuck… You…”

*****************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry

[i-need-air]

Good news; Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.

Summary: F!Reader. Your soon to be husband arrives home just as you settled down, not knowing the recently made curry is not the only surprise of the evening.

Word Count: 3.3k [It all started with a drabble💀]

Warnings: Disgusting fluff. So much fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Reader is female and can get pregnant aaaand I just spoiled everything. More fluff and Katsuki ruining the fluff bc he's a gremlin even when older. Pro Hero Bakugou so expect him to be kinda more mature. Fluffy petnames and fluff. Did I mention fl—🤡

You sighed, sprawled over the couch in a comfortable position, action movie playing in the backround as you were fidgeting with the engagement ring on your finger, a small smile plastered on your face. Red ruby, just as his eyes; your mind drifted to all the compliments you threw at him about those eyes that flustered him beyond reason. Through a chuckle, the jewel reached your lips as you landed a kiss on it.

The key jiggle made your lips curve more and you covered more under the fluffy blanket, eager and giddy to see his face. He was so obnoxiously loud even while doing the smallest tasks, like just coming through the door of your shared apartment. With a groan and a very audible neck crack, he threw the keys in the bowl by the entrance and spotted you on the couch.

"Lookin' comfortable." His voice was amused, hidden between his normal gruff tone. You could only wiggle your exposed toes at him as a greeting, earning a scoff in return.

With that, he started his usual routine of bitching about his side-kicks, villains, the world; you name it and Bakugou Katsuki has a reason to trash talk about it. Yet this time he interrupted himself in his monologue as he smelled the air just as he was approaching the sofa, stopping himself in his tracks.

"Is that curry?" He said, suddently all annoyance regarding everything and everyone forgotten, the smell of delicious spicy food making him look like a child excited to be alive. With a giggle, you nodded at his expression, absolutely adoring his bright face.

"Yeah, I did. Just finished it, actually."

"Damn. What's the occasion, princess?" He asked with a smirk before throwing the blanket off, then launched himself on you like a dead weight, making you groan. Katsuki always seemed to forget how incredibly built he was. Massive, muscular and acted like a total baby whenever he was exhausted, specially enjoying sprawling himself on you whenever he got the chance.

"Not hungry?" You mutter, deciding to not answer his question and trying your best to find a position to breathe while still encircling him with your arms, although it seemed a hard task. You opted to lead his head into your chest, then massage his back muscles with soft fingertips, just as he loved and denied to love simultaneously.

He hid his expression into your cleavage, grumbling something indistinguishable as he cuddled closer into you. How come he always had this effect on you? Such a giant baby yet these tender actions had your heart going crazy, making you melt into him. Or, more likely, get squished under him.

"Didn't catch that, baby." He groaned, urging you to massage him more as he lifted his face a little just so you can hear better.

"I fuckin' said—" of course he had to be a pain in the ass too; he bit your breast lightly which earned a slap on his shoulder and with a smirk, he continued. "Just wanna stay like this for a while." You noticed his pout before he rubbed his forehead into your neck. Katsuki has been overworking himself since he opened his own hero agency and, even if it got amazing results, sometimes he forgot to just take care of himself. It's the reason why you decided to take it upon yourself to remind him. Although he complained and grumbled like an old man that's done with life, you could always see the beginning of a smirk plastered on his beautiful face, hint that he loved the attention and care. What a baby, your fiancé that is.

"C'mon, baby, you need to eat." Any attempt to remove him from your person was brushed off completely since he weighted like a tank. He even dared to whine and encircle his arms around you. Definitely a baby.

"Did ya eat?" His voice was soft and you almost missed it.

"Not yet. I was waiting for you." You answer just as low, running your fingers through his incredibly soft hair. How dare he use the same hair products you use and have such different results? Like you'd ever ask out loud, knowing he'd just smirk triumphantly as if he won an imaginary competition.

Even if he didn't express it vocally, Katsuki was thankful for these domesticity, that being having dinner together whenever you had the chance. Yet he always answers with the same "You shouldn't have, you stubborn woman." Just like now.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, the usual bickering starting, same bickering that always making you feel warmth in your stomach, but now it wasn't the time to play since you had other plans. With that, you lifted the hairs brushing his forehead and gave him a kiss before looking up at the ceiling, still continuing your gentle ministrations.

"So... I was thinking."

"Ah, fuck—" Before he could throw a sarcastic joke around, you pressed his face into your chest to quiet the attempt, the deep rumble coming from his chest making you shake. "You tryin' to fucking kill me?" His amused accusations made you gasp dramatically.

"Right back at you!" His lips parted but you interrupted. "So I was thinking—" He shut up, not before giving you a a glare. "Remember when you took me hiking for the first a couple of years ago?"

"What about it?" His interest peaked, he raised himself on his elbow while giving you a raised brow.

"We reached the top of the mountain and we could see all Musutafu from there..." With muscle memory alone, your hand landed in his cheek to caress it, feeling his sharp cheekbone and adoring the way he leaned into it by reflex too. "I didn't watch it at all." His scandalized face made you laugh but you proceeded, not giving him a chance to scold the living hell out of you. "I was looking at you."

The statement just made his mouth shut closed, surprise washing over him.

"Why the f—"

"All I could think was Holy shit, I love him so much." It took him time to process it. A slow blink was thrown at you as he genuinely did not know how to respond. The image of his increasingly reddened cheeks was imprinting itself in your mind as you never, ever, wanted to forget this moment. And it just started. Butterflies ran through your guts and you felt your hands starting to shake. "You looked at the scenery and had this... serene... smile on your face. I couldn't look away." Your lips found his for just a second. "I thought I wanted to see that smile again and again and... that's when I realized I loved you."

He was malfunctioning at this point and oh, how you loved breaking him in the best way.

"I— But—" His palm reached his face, trying his hardest to hide that enthralling expression he had. There was a visible fight to hide an emerging grin and he was losing, the red in his cheeks and his normally prickly self still made him attempt a scowl. He then groaned loudly, taking the palm still placed on his cheeks to hide his eyes behind. "You fucking told me you loved me instantly after." He was grinning fully by now, intense orbs watching through your fingers.

"I just knew I always wanted to come to you first to tell you something. Like—" again, he's giving all his attention. "Good news, bad news... Whenever I need someone's opinion or just to rant... I always knew you're the first one I want to go to."

As years passed through your relationship, your words always managed to leave him mute and the affection coming with them was something Katsuki sometimes struggled to accept, at least at the beginning. By now you both matured together and it didn't seem to be an issue anymore yet with your speech, he did not know what to say. Only wonder showed.

"I just hope you feel the same about me." The shy, small whisper woke him up from whatever daze he was in and a determined and somewhat cocky expression took over him.

"Damn right I do! Like I'd go to any other extra when I got you."

Your fiancé, contrary to popular belief, wasn't just a brash, head straight into action type of man. He was observant and knew how to pick his fights. Katsuki also knew you very well as he studied you even before starting to go out together. He knew your moods and he definitely picked up that this conversation was serious. Exactly why he indulged you with the next sentence in all seriousness.

"What brings this up, babe?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you." As much as it was very true, it wasn't exactly the end of the conversation and he knew. His lips were soft as they pressed on yours, his cologne filling your lungs, his hand pulling you close, closer. Before he could get the chance to taste you more, the tease that he was, he pulled away.

"I love you too, princess." Those words always, without a fail, made you shiver or melt. And this time you did both, the dumbest grin taking over you only in response at his expression. The expression you always chased since that fateful day. The same serene and at peace look he gave was now focused on you and for a single second you got overwhelmed with love, making you blink away the happy tears threatening to approach. Because it wasn't over; you still had to deliver some news and the thought made your voice shaky.

"I have a surprise for you." Your noses were still touching, his breath was fanning over you. Self control had to be damned for another moment as you sweetly kissed his lips again. How can he be so addictive? Another kiss. So sweet. Another. So soft and so perfect.

"Yeah?" His smallest whisper still sounded rough.

"Mhm..." With a head movement, you pointed at the chocolate box placed strategically on the small table by your side, sharp rubies following the movement in confusion, giving you the chance to kiss the cheek now in front of you. "You know I've been feeling pretty bad recently."

"And you still ate the damned fucking chocolates." He muttered, feeling the moment was over. Oh, poor, innocent Katsuki.

"There was a reason for that."

"Open the box." As if you told him the world's greatest secret, he hesitated with suspicion. "C'mon, baby." His petname made him perk, the plea in your tone leading him to give in with a long, exagerated sigh and furrowed brows. He threw his arm to grab the red box then settled himself back on your body, practically opening his surprise on your stomach.

The small white stick hidden inside of it stuck out like a sore thumb and The Great Bakugou Katsuki just stared at it plainly. Taking in the object like it's a weird, ancient artifact he was trying really hard to descypher. Nervousness was running through your veins and you bit your lips in hesitancy. The moment the gears in his head started working and some wires connected to get to the point finally came and you observed it with great care. His brows raised as he adjusted his position better, and with a child-like confusion merged with an indescribable spark behind his eyes, he raised his gaze towards you.

"Is this—" His breath hitched and even if his lips were trembling, they gave away a ghost of a smile. Still, his eyebrows were so high it was hilarious.

"Aha."

"The two lines...?" He got up, looking between you and the now harshly gripped pregnancy test in his hand. It seemed his brain was processing it slowly.

"It means it's positive, Katsuki."

The longest silence followed and as he stood there in a sitting position, expression hidden by his blond hair, you did not know what to feel. All you knew is that your chest burned with nervousness, your stomach turned again and again, the butterflies still spiraling around crazed. The need to know what he was thinking was taking over you but deep down a voice told you to just take in the moment and wait patiently.

The voice, your instinct and intuition built around this man were all right, because it did not take Katsuki long to start shaking. He rubbed his face, rushed and clumsy, rare of him. His leg started bouncing and a choked attempt of a laugh escaped his mouth. But it was the sniffle that made you bolt up and put a hand on his tensed shoulder.

"You're—" he struggled to talk. "You're fucking— You're pregnant?"

When he landed his gaze on you, all the increasing nerves started dissipating. Unshed tears were in the corners of his eyes. His lips were trembling but hid a smirk. He was rattled, all sense of tiredness gone... Bakugou Katsuki looked nervous, excited, amazed as he took you in through a new light. Like he ultimately understood what was going on and understood that right then and there, inside your belly a small new life was being created.

It took you back to the top of Musutafu, his face, his serene face. This Katsuki was now your favorite Katsuki. This trembling mess of a man, holding down his excitement made you adore him yet again for the n-th time in your life and you found yourself falling deeper in love with him.

So with a struggled breath, he blinked a couple of times to wake up from his daydream and his smile turned into a grimace.

"Wait. You fucking peed on this?" Although it was a question, he almost stated it with a straight face and the moment was gone. Vanished. Perished into nothing. More likely into boiling fury.

"You infuriating, insufferable, annoying man. I cleaned the damned test afterwards!" you groaned, getting up, not knowing if you wanted to cry, slap him, hug him, kiss him or throw the whole man plus the pregnancy test out the window. The only direction in your mind was the kitchen, where the delicious curry was cooling down. "You find out I'm pregnant and that's what you fucking have to s—?" He was faster, incredibly so, grabbing your hand and throwing you into him until your back was glued into his front and he laughed, sniffled and laughed some more. It wasn't his usual arrogant one, nor his characteristic scoffs of amusement. It was Katsuki laughing wholeheartedly at your reaction and at whatever was going on.

He encircled you into his arms again and you noted how small you felt anytime he did that. The whole revolution in your stomach returned as his nose hid into the nape of your neck and started shaking with you in his embrace.

"Holy fucking shit." He squeezed you into him, hands traveling to your covered belly as he tried his hardest to control his trembling self and failed miserably. Not that either cared. The gentlest he's ever been, he raised your shirt and ran his fingers over the exposed flesh. "We made a fucking baby!" Only he could proclaim that with such victory, all while you stared down at his roughed and calloused hands now placed carefully on your stomach. You couldn't even savor it and attempt to place yours on top of his because he spun you around without grace in an instant and held you by your shoulders. "WE MADE A FUCKING BABY!"

The feeling left your body and you burst into a teary laughter as you nodded. The same rough palms grabbed you by the cheeks, squishing, and he kissed you. Hard and shaky, brash and messy as you relaxed and took all of it in, welcoming it and asking for more. His heart was beating hard, so hard it rivaled yours and he seemed to have a hard time deciding what to do first; kiss, talk or breathe.

"Fuck—" he growled into your lips. "Holy fuck—" his thumbs brushed the corner of your eyes, washing away the teardrops.

"You shouldn't swear in front of the baby." You teased. What you did not expect was for him to lean back, inhale sharply and look down at your stomach with wide orbs.

"Fuck, what?! Shit— I mean— Already?!" His panic just amused you further and the guilt he was oozing made you giggle.

"Of course not, you goof. Maybe in a few months though..."

You'd expect a snap back, an annoyed grunt, a sassy retort, a sarcastic jab at the silly joke you made, an argument to defend himself. Anything but him falling on his knees in a slow motion and raising your shirt again just to stare.

Your last statement maybe made him fall again into a spiral of realization because it surely did that for you too. In a few months...

"For how long have you known?"

"I started thinking about it a couple of weeks ago—" Like you'd slapped him, he snapped towards you in an incredulous, shocked manner. "But I wanted to wait to see if my period maybe decided to come very late and when it didn't—" he calmed. "I took the tests. Today."

"Tests?" He pulled you closer by the hips.

"I bought 5 different ones. I had to drink so much water." You grin and he scoffs.

"You didn't wait to tell me, hah?" How come he sounded so accusing even when you did something good and even when he smiled while saying it?

"Of course not. I told you, silly, I always go to you first with any news. Good or bad..."

He noticed. He always does. Never the verbal man, he was not the type to say something unless completely and utterly necessary, instead he was one to show what was needed to be said with actions. But being together for so long, he learned that sometimes he needed to voice out a few things, just to easen your poor confused and uncertain heart. After really taking your previous words to heart, accepting them and loving them, he did have to reassure you.

"This is good news, princess. This is—" On his knees, grinning like a mad man, the sparkle in his red eyes made you nod, not even knowing why, and pull him closer into your body. His cheek touched your stomach and he relaxed, snuggling closer into it. "This is amazing fucking news." His breath tickled and you nodded again into the air, weight lifting off your shoulders.

While normally he was the one to hilariously ruin a sweet scenery with one of his snarky remarks just to easen the overwhelming emotions from said situation, it did not happen this time. No. This time you did as your stomach rumbled loudly into his ear and you started wheezing, both out of embarrassment and amusement.

"For fuck's sake, [Y/N]! You should've eaten!" He raised and in the blink of the eye he dragged you towards the kitchen.

"Sorry! I forgot to eat today and I wanted to wait for you to surpr—"

"SAY FUCKING WHAT—?! You forgot to eat— THE WHOLE FUCKING DAY?!"

His screaming, his flustered and annoyed face, the way he threw the curry into a plate and placed it in front of you, the way he tapped his foot on the ground waiting for you to eat... The way a vein popped on his forehead as an idiotic smile washed over you...

"I love you, Katsu..."

"Yeah, yeah, eat the damned food already. Always have to be so fuckin' cheesy. Can't fucking believe you did not eat at all today, you annoying woman. You fucking tell me every single day to take care of myself and now you pull this shit—" his incessant rambling continued even after you started eating so you decided to be mischievous.

"We love you, Katsu."

He then short-circuited.