#these are probably not done but i think this is a good stopping point

[l1tw1ck]

Sponsored by Stark

Dom!Bottom!Tony x Sub!Top!Masc Virgin Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,358 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Event Request

CW: Dubious Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Semi-Public Sex,

After retiring from hero work, Tony opened up an academy to teach hopeful heroes, tech lovers, and future entrepreneurs. The academy teaches students starting from age 14 and above. It's a combination of high school and college. There are a lot of campuses all over New York. You finished high school in Midtown High and applied to join the academy. Tony loved your application so much that he awarded you with a special scholarship. It’s only granted to one person every four years. After your first meeting with him, he offered to buy you dinner. You didn't think it was strange. Why would it be?

You look up at Tony with an anxiety filled and hesitantly lustful gaze. He came onto you during dinner and you were afraid you’d lose your scholarship if you denied him. You were also afraid you'd seriously regret giving up the chance to fuck him. So now you're staring at his pussy as he grinds down on your clothed cock. His t-dick is poking out of his bush of hair and the sight makes you worry you’ll come too early.

“Don't worry about getting a job anymore. I’ll pay for everything you need.” He rolls his head back. “Gonna get you a credit card..use it whenever.”

You feel more like a prostitute than a scholarship student.

“Fuck…ever been with an older guy before?” He asks. You can't deny that he looks so fucking sexy like this. The way he's rubbing his pussy on your boner is definitely helping you forget why you were nervous in the first place. Your underwear is drenched with his slick. It's undeniably hot.

“Never…with anyone.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out. “Good. I’ll take the lead.” He stops and leans into your neck, sloppily kissing it and as he removes your boxers. He moves away from your face and leans his body closer to your cock. He points at the part of his stomach where the tip of your cock is. “That's how deep you’ll be inside me.”

He grips your shoulders and hovers over your cock. You gulp. He sinks himself down onto your length, a confident smirk plastered on his face.

“I haven’t done it in so long–” He moans as you completely fill him up, his back arched. He rolls his hips and strokes his t-dick. Seeing a guy like him use you like a toy is too hot for your own good. You never knew you were into this kind of thing. You could probably come just like this. You’ll try not to though, it wouldn't turn out well if you got him pregnant. “You want me to move, baby?”

“I…I wanna see you come first.���

“If that's what you want.” He strokes himself harder. Your heart is racing. You can feel it as he reaches his peak. His cunt is giving you nice, wet hugs. He rolls his head back, his pussy seizing its movements for a moment before resuming. He squirts, his slick covering your face. You lick your lips. You’ve been able to stop yourself from coming this whole time but you're not sure how much longer you’ll last.

He grinds down on you and moves his hand away from his sensitive cock. After a while, he eventually starts riding you. You don't think you’ll be able to last.

“Wa- wait- wait—” You panic. “I’m- I think–”

“It's okay, sweetheart.” He keeps bouncing. “I can't get pregnant.”

You would let out a long sigh of relief if it weren't for your sudden orgasm. You bite down on your lip as he keeps going despite that. It feels good and insanely overwhelming. You can't believe you just came inside Tony fucking Stark. “‘s too- too much-” You moan.

“I’m not satisfied yet. You’ll let Daddy keep bouncing on your cock, won't you, baby?”

You nod. “Ye- yes-”

“Good boy~” He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Letting Daddy use you like a cute little toy.” He loves the way your body is reacting. You're so inexperienced and sensitive, he knows he’ll have a lot of fun with you. He’s glad he changed careers. You stare at your cum spilling out with each thrust. It's so erotic you feel like you're gonna pass out.

Tony notices the subject of your gaze. “You like that? How your cum drips out of my pussy? Hm?” He grins. “Wanna keep filling me up, baby?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes- yes, Daddy-”

His body stutters as he comes again. He stops, his walls flexing around your cock again. Tony leans into your ear. “You know what a mating press is?” He asks.

You shudder. “Ye- yeah-” You grab his waist and manage to flip yourselves over. Sweat drips down your forehead as you grab Tony’s thighs. You move him into position and just looking at him like this makes you come again. Your cock starts to soften. “Sorry-”

“‘S okay, baby. It's cute.” He laughs. “We can keep working on your endurance another time.”

You walk into Tony’s office, wearing an outfit he bought for you. As he stands up, you notice his belt is unbuckled and his pants are unzipped. He leans against the wall and you instantly make your way over to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day.” His hands slither onto your shoulders, his soft lips graze your ear. “I couldn’t stop touching myself. I had to cancel my meeting this afternoon.”

Your breath hitches.

“Are you gonna help me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah-” You watch him pull away from you and remove his pants and underwear. He shows the damp spot in his white boxers to you. You're already hard. He motions for you to kneel, making you feel like a dog. You look at his pussy eagerly, excited to see it up close. You already know what he wants you to do.

You wrap your lips around his t-cock and suck it.

“Yes~ like that, baby-” He shivers. You slip two fingers inside him, one at a time, and try your best to finger him properly. Your mouth on his cock is more than enough to distract him from your noob-ness. He doesn't seem to care about the amount of noise he's making either. Given his personality, you don't feel any anxiety over it. No one would dare enter his office when they hear him. “Fuck, right there~!” His hip thrusts involuntarily. You managed to find his g-spot. You do your best to pleasure him with it and by the sound of his voice and the clenching you feel around your fingers, you know you're doing a good job.

“Yes– yes—!” He squirts. This time you get to really taste him. You slowly move your head back, a line of spit connecting you to his cock, then lap your tongue all over his pussy. Tony twitches with pleasure.

You stop, then look at him like a puppy awaiting orders. He curls his index and middle finger, signifying that he wants you to stand up. He quickly frees your boner from your pants. “I still have one more meeting today.” He takes your wrists and has you hold onto his waist. He mouths ‘hold me’ so you pick him up. “But since you come so fast, I’ll let you fuck me.”

You press your forehead onto his shoulder. “Thank you-” You breathe out, sinking into his cunt. “You- you feel so good, Daddy-” He's sopping wet.

Tony wraps his arms around you as you sloppily thrust inside him. Your desperation turns him on so much.

“Can I- fuck- can I come inside?”

“Mhm~” He hums. “‘M gonna keep it inside. Walk around with your cum in me.”

You shudder, your cock shooting ropes of cum inside him. His laugh is breathless and lustful. “You're too cute.” He smiles as you bring him to his desk, laying him in a way to prevent your cum from spilling out as well as you can. You grab his boxers and slip them onto him.

You watch as he stands up and fixes himself up to look presentable. “I’ll see you tonight.” He winks, leaving the room.

[00valentina-writes00]

ik this is a over done trope but reader flinching during and argument please with ambessa or sevika (ignore if this makes you un comfy)

Ahem how bout both?

✞⛧ Sevika AND Ambessa when you flinch during an argument ✞⛧

✞⛧𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒✞⛧

✞⛧ Sevika’s initial reaction would be a flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by a sharp, assessing gaze. She’s not one for unnecessary drama, but she can read the situation like a book.

✞⛧ Her first instinct would be to immediately back off, her posture stiffening as her mind runs through what she just did to make you flinch.

✞⛧ She’d never want to make you feel unsafe, and if she sees you flinch, she’d pause, her intense focus shifting to you. It would throw her off balance for a moment, not because she’s unsure of her own actions, but because she never wanted to make you feel that way.

✞⛧ Sevika’s eyes would narrow, her protective side kicking in as she looks at you like you’ve just wounded her in a way words can’t explain.

✞⛧ Her voice would soften, though not necessarily in a comforting way—it would be more of a controlled, cold calmness. “Did I scare you?” she’d ask, her tone low and even, though there’s a hint of frustration underlying it.

✞⛧ If you don’t answer, Sevika would get even more guarded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and giving you space while trying to hide how affected she is by the flinch.

✞⛧ Despite her tough exterior, Sevika would feel a pang of guilt. She’s not someone who tends to apologize, but she might mutter, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” in a rare moment of vulnerability.

✞⛧ She’d probably keep her distance for a while after that, trying to process what happened internally, but her eyes would never leave you—watching, waiting for some sort of response

✞⛧ Sevika would be incredibly introspective after the flinch, likely replaying the entire argument in her mind, dissecting what she said, and wondering if she was too harsh, too fast with her words.

✞⛧ Even though Sevika’s a fighter, she has an incredibly strong sense of pride, and seeing you flinch would hit her harder than she’d care to admit.

✞⛧ If you tried to apologize or explain why you flinched, Sevika would hold up a hand, telling you to stop. She’s not the kind of person to let you take the blame for something she feels responsible for.

✞⛧ You might see Sevika take a long breath and slowly step towards you, her usual stoic face replaced by something closer to concern—a rare sight for her.

✞⛧ If you’re still visibly shaken, Sevika would drop any argument she’s holding onto, her gaze softening as she focuses entirely on making sure you’re okay, though she’s still not great with emotions.

✞⛧ Her frustration would shift inward, and you might catch her muttering under her breath, “I didn’t mean to fucking hurt you.” It’s rare for Sevika to admit when she’s wrong, but she doesn’t like seeing you afraid of her.

✞⛧ Sevika would give you time to process, but she’d also be very blunt about how she’s feeling. “You think I would hurt you?” she’d ask, her voice quieter now, not filled with the anger it had earlier.

✞⛧ If you told her that you were just startled, she’d take that as a small relief, but still feel bad about the fact that it happened at all. “I’m not gonna hurt you, [Y/N],” she’d reaffirm, but with more emphasis on reassurance than defensiveness.

✞⛧ She might offer to sit down with you, her stance softened, but her brow furrowed in concentration. She’s not good with comforting, but she’ll try, even if it’s awkward.

✞⛧ The next time you argue, Sevika would be more cautious, taking a moment to gauge your reactions before she raises her voice or gets more heated. She’s not one for letting arguments go, but she’s not going to push you to the breaking point.

✞⛧ If you bring up what happened in the past, Sevika would have a hard time admitting how much it bothered her. She’d downplay it and act like it wasn’t a big deal, but deep down, she’s processing how to better handle your relationship.

✞⛧ Sevika might not openly show it, but seeing you flinch makes her question how she presents herself to you. She doesn’t want to be a source of fear, even though she often exudes a commanding, intimidating presence.

✞⛧ In rare moments, if you ask her about it later, Sevika would simply shrug it off but with a quiet intensity in her eyes. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. I just… don’t do well with soft shit,” she’d admit, showing how much she struggles with vulnerability.

✞⛧ She may not be able to apologize directly, but she’ll do things to make it up to you—maybe fixing the situation with actions rather than words. Her way of showing she cares would be by offering you the space you need and then following it up with practical support.

✞⛧ If you flinch again in the future, Sevika would tense up instantly, but this time, she’d be quicker to pull back, knowing how badly she messed up the last time.

✞⛧ Sevika might get frustrated with herself more than anything else. She’s not the type to back down from anything, but when it comes to making you feel comfortable, she’s out of her depth.

✞⛧ As she reflects on the situation, she might get a little defensive, questioning herself: Am I too much? But she’ll keep it to herself, never admitting to the self-doubt that follows moments like these.

✞⛧ She’ll probably make up for it by doing something practical for you—whether it’s taking on extra responsibilities or handling something that would ease your stress.

✞⛧ Sevika might also check in on you more often, even if it’s in her own blunt way. “You good?” she’d ask, trying to gauge where your head’s at and how she can fix things without making it awkward.

✞⛧ The next time you fight, Sevika would be less prone to raising her voice, realizing that yelling isn’t always the answer when it comes to you. She’d still argue with the same intensity, but she’d dial it back a little.

✞⛧ Sevika wouldn’t easily forgive herself for making you feel scared. Even if she doesn’t say it out loud, she would work harder to be less overwhelming when communicating with you.

✞⛧ As time passes, Sevika would subtly show that she’s learned to tone down her anger when she’s upset with you, recognizing that your emotional well-being is just as important as her need to be heard.

✞⛧ Even if the argument itself is unresolved, she’ll make sure the aftermath doesn’t leave you feeling like you’re walking on eggshells around her. If she needs to adjust her approach, she will, even if it takes time

✞⛧𝔸𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒✞⛧

✞⛧ Ambessa would immediately notice the flinch, her sharp eyes narrowing with a flicker of concern. She’s not someone who misses details, especially when it comes to you.

✞⛧ Her first instinct would be to stop mid-sentence, her anger momentarily fading. She’s not used to seeing you afraid, and it causes a slight shift in her demeanor.

✞⛧ She’d take a deep breath, her voice lowering, no longer filled with the same intensity as before. “Did I scare you?” she’d ask, her tone surprisingly calm, but with a hint of vulnerability.

✞⛧ Ambessa is incredibly proud, so she’d try to mask her own unease. She’d raise an eyebrow, but there’s a subtle tension in her posture, as though she’s trying to figure out how to respond to your reaction.

✞⛧ She’d not apologize outright—Ambessa isn’t the type to back down from her beliefs—but she’d soften her approach, trying to gauge whether you’re physically okay or just emotionally shaken.

✞⛧ The moment she sees the flinch, a part of her feels a pang of guilt, though she wouldn’t admit it. Ambessa rarely shows vulnerability, so she’d struggle internally, not knowing how to reconcile this new layer of her relationship with you.

✞⛧ She would stop pacing or gesturing wildly, looking at you with a careful gaze. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” she’d state, more as an assertion than a question, trying to convince herself just as much as you.

✞⛧ If you don’t say anything, Ambessa would grow increasingly frustrated with herself. She’s used to being the commanding presence in a room, but this is different. She doesn’t know how to fix it immediately.

✞⛧ Ambessa might take a step back, giving you space, though it’s clear she’s not used to this kind of emotional vulnerability. She’d cross her arms, trying to maintain her usual air of control, but she’s silently concerned about how much you’re affected.

✞⛧ She’d avoid making direct eye contact for a moment, visibly rethinking her words and actions. Ambessa is fiercely intelligent, and she’d be running through everything she just said, trying to pinpoint what made you flinch.

✞⛧ Ambessa might try to reassert her dominance in a different way, by sitting down or leaning against something, trying to display authority while simultaneously keeping her voice steady and calm. “This isn’t how I intended for this to go,” she’d admit quietly.

✞⛧ She’d attempt to approach you more carefully, though it’s clear she’s not quite sure how to be gentle. “Tell me what I did,” she’d ask, trying to understand why you reacted the way you did.

✞⛧ If you explain it’s not her fault but just the intensity of the argument, she’d frown deeply, taking that into account. Ambessa doesn’t like feeling misunderstood, but she would respect your honesty in this moment.

✞⛧ Ambessa would try to mask her emotions by shifting the conversation back to the issue at hand, but the tension in her body would remain. She’s used to arguing and controlling the situation, but this time it feels like she’s lost her grasp.

✞⛧ She’d likely keep the conversation civil afterward, but there would be an undercurrent of carefulness in her tone that wasn’t there before. She’d check in with you periodically, making sure you’re still okay.

✞⛧ Despite her initial reaction, she would be sensitive to any further signs of discomfort. Ambessa would be hyper-aware of your body language, making sure you’re not retreating or shrinking away from her.

✞⛧ If the argument continues, Ambessa would intentionally lower her tone, trying not to overwhelm you with her usual fire. She may even offer a compromise, though it’s a rare moment where she’s willing to soften her stance.

✞⛧ Ambessa is fiercely protective, so if she feels like she’s been too harsh, she might take a subtle step back from being confrontational and offer reassurance. “You’re important to me,” she’d say, though not in a way that’s overly affectionate.

✞⛧ She’s not quick to apologize, but in rare moments like this, she might drop her defenses just enough to show a softer side. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she’d admit quietly, her voice lacking its usual edge.

✞⛧ Ambessa would be conflicted. She knows her strength can be intimidating, but she also values loyalty and respect above all else. Seeing you flinch causes her to question if she’s gone too far in asserting herself.

✞⛧ If you try to walk away or distance yourself, Ambessa would stay rooted, allowing you space but not letting you escape the conversation entirely. She’d want to resolve things, but she’d give you the autonomy to handle the situation at your own pace.

✞⛧ She may change her approach entirely, opting for a more measured and less commanding tone. If she feels like she’s pushed too hard, she’ll shift back into a more controlled demeanor, but the worry will be evident in her eyes

✞⛧ Afterward, Ambessa might focus on actions over words. She would make sure you’re comfortable, making the effort to attend to your needs in practical ways, like preparing food or taking care of other responsibilities.

✞⛧ Her pride won’t let her completely back down, but she’ll make it known that she’s not a threat to you. “We’re not enemies,” she’d remind you with a subtle gesture of reassurance.

✞⛧ Despite being a formidable leader, Ambessa would be deeply shaken by your reaction. She’d want to reassure you of her commitment, even though she might not be the best at expressing it openly.

✞⛧ If the tension continues to linger, Ambessa might get frustrated with herself. She’s used to maintaining control, and being in a position where she’s unsure of how to fix things challenges her more than she’s willing to admit.

✞⛧ Ambessa would want to avoid you feeling like you’re walking on eggshells around her, so she might take extra care not to escalate things further. She would be cautious in her tone and actions, trying to bring down the tension.

✞⛧ If the argument comes up again in the future, Ambessa would be far more aware of her approach, actively trying to make sure that she doesn’t trigger another flinch from you. She’d try to use her words more carefully, even if that means holding back some of her usual fire.

✞⛧ Ambessa may not be used to showing this side of herself, but if you’re still upset or anxious, she would give you space to talk about it, even if it means dropping her pride to listen.

✞⛧ In her quieter moments, Ambessa might confide in you about her struggle with balancing strength and vulnerability. “I wasn’t raised to show weakness,” she’d admit, revealing a small crack in her otherwise impervious exterior

✞⛧ Ultimately, Ambessa would want to make sure you feel safe, heard, and respected. While she might still have moments of pride or dominance, she’ll take extra steps to show that she’s not going to harm you, emotionally or physically.

✞⛧ Though Ambessa may not say it out loud, seeing you flinch would make her reflect on her leadership style and the way she manages relationships. It would be a turning point for her in considering how she communicates with you.

[litnerdwrites]

There's no indication that anybody from Velaris is, or has the ability to become, a soldier for the night court. The only soldiers we see are darkbriners and Illyrians. Velaris has also been warded two times over to keep it hidden (even though nobody knew it existed anyway). There's also no indication that either Illyria or THC have access to the library in Velaris, or have any similar resourced (even though they are the only places that provide the NC soldiers, and, by the IC's own admission, rife with misogyny and abuse towards woman and children).

The ones who suffered under Amarantha's reign were Illyria and the Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who fight to protect the Night Court are Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who were orphaned and widowed by war (up until Velaris was attacked in ACOMAF for the FIRST TIME IN 5000 YEARS (which we can assume was when it was built)) was Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively.

Velaris has no slums. The Illyrians live in tents.

Velaris was by no means poor, its people mostly cared for, the buildings and streets well kept. My sister, it seemed, had managed to find the only thing relatively close to a slum. (ACOFAS Chapter 4)

And yet my sister managed to find the seediest, most miserable taverns in Velaris (ACOFAS Chapter 12)

Rhysand talked to the 'governors of the Palaces' and getting them to refuse service to the people from the Court of Nightmares.

“Starting with meeting with the governors of the Palaces and getting them to agree never to serve, shelter, or entertain Keir or anyone from the Court of Nightmares.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)

“They have been sending out the word to every business owner in the city,” Rhys went on, “every restaurant and shop and venue. So Keir and his ilk may come here … But they will not find it a welcoming place. Or one where they can even procure lodgings.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)

Velaris is built and protected on the blood of others. One of the only issues that they faced were a lack spices, and probably other imports, due to stopping trade for fifty years.

“It’s just … so lovely to have such spices available again—now that … that things are better.” (ACOMAF Chapter 29)

After it was all over, and Amarantha was dead, they could have reached out to other courts, offered aid and helped rebuild. Or, at minimum, they could've offered Illyria and The Hewn City, aid. They could've helped them recover. But they didn't.

Velaris protected by the blood and sacrifices of Illyria and the Hewn City. What exactly have the IC, or the people of Velaris done in exchange? Deny them service and lodging? Did nobody contest this? At all? Did nobody, in this entire city (a place that's supposed to be the only 'good' in the Nc) ever protest? Or even ask about the conditions in either Illyria or the HC?

I know that there was something similar happening in the winter court, with Viviane protecting a small city near the border, but in that case, Viviane had to stay there to keep whatever magic shielded it strong, whereas in Velaris, the city was already a secret, and shielded, so I'm still not following why he had to shield it again. Also, the city she protected took in any outsiders that made it there, and the wards on Velaris, actively encouraged people away from the city.

And in the aftermaths, there is no reason to think that Viviane, or the people of that city didn't extend their help in rebuilding The Winter Court to others who had not been as lucky. Whereas we know for a fact that neither the IC or the people/governors of Velaris didn't extend help. Instead, they agreed to help segregate the HC residents even more.

So the argument that 'Velaris is the only good place, because the The Court of Nightmares is made of monsters and Illyrians refuse to change' is bs. At this point, the only change either should make is letting the IC, and Velaris fend for themselves during the next war. There is no reason for them to lose their loved ones and spill their own blood for the people of a city that will refuse them service and lodging just because of where they're from, at the encouragement and behest of their shared monarch.

Remind me again, how and why that stupid bat should be high king? He can't even govern his own territory.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Life is Changin' Tides, ch. 4 🌊

[Ch. 1]

[Ch. 2]

[Ch. 3]

[Read on AO3]

Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. "The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.

"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash."

-

Everyone reunites. There's a lot of apologizing. There's a little bit of oversharing (it's the painkiller's fault).

When Tommy wished for a guardian angel watching over Genevieve, he didn’t think the universe would take him so literally. Because this man, this Evan? With earnest big blue eyes, blond curls, a pink birthmark that looks almost like a heart against his eyebrow? Yeah, that’s an angel he’s looking at.

He doesn’t have much of a chance to look at him, though, because as soon as Tommy thanks him, the man promptly passes out in front of them.

“Buck!” Captain Nash exclaims in surprise, and extends his arms to support him. His eyes are furrowed in concern, and both Hen and Howie are also fussing over Evan. Tommy has never seen this man before, but it’s clear they all know and care about him.

Thankfully there’s an empty bed close, and Nash lays Evan in it with surprising gentleness, in a way that vaguely reminds Tommy of when he puts Vivie to bed. And speaking of which.

Tommy finally manages to stop hugging Genevieve for long enough that he can take a good look at her. Her beautiful yellow dress, a present from his Nonna, is filthy, covered in grime and dirt (thankfully no blood); her hair is matted and frizzy, escaping out of the pigtails Tommy’s done for her this morning, and she looks pale and exhausted. She’s still the most beautiful sight Tommy has ever laid his eyes upon, and he can’t get enough of looking at her.

“Vivie, oh my God, I was so worried!” He admits, placing a thousand kisses to her wet hair, her sweaty forehead, her flushed cheeks. “Are you okay, baby? Does anything hurt?” Tommy asks gently, checking her face and arms for bruises or cuts, but thankfully, probably thanks to this Evan angel, his baby girl looks perfectly unharmed.

“I’m fine, Daddy! But what happened to Mr. Evan?! Is he gonna be okay?!” She asks agitatedly, her arms firmly wrapped around Tommy’s neck. Her blue eyes are looking scaredly at Evan’s unconscious form, and Tommy rubs her back soothingly. Her grip around his neck tightens, seeking comfort that Tommy is more than happy to provide.

Howie, who looks a thousand times less worried once Hen hooks Evan up to a saline IV and it looks like he’ll be alright, rushes to them when he hears Vivie’s question. He smiles sweetly at her, and she smiles a little back at him.

“Hey, kiddo, don’t you worry about Buck, okay?” He tells her. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell him? Cause I don’t want his head getting too big.”

That gets a small giggle out of her, and Tommy would hug Howard if he didn’t have an armful of Genevieve. She nods eagerly, and looks curiously at the other man. Frankly, so does Tommy.

“Well, that guy?” He says, pointing at Evan, who still hasn’t woken up, but he’s lying peacefully now, his cheeks starting to get some flush in them. (God, he’s handsome, a treacherous part of Tommy’s brain says, and he promptly tells it to shut up). “Toughest guy I know. He survived a lot of crazy stuff, and he’ll be just fine, I promise.”

“For real?” She asks, and Howie nods as if he’s complete sure of himself.

“Totally for real.” He says, and winks at her. “He’s a survivor, just like your dad Tommy here.”

Tommy feels his cheeks flush, and he smiles gratefully at Howard. Vivie looks between them, curiosity clear in her face.

“You know my Daddy?! How?!” She asks in wonder, and Howie and Tommy smile at each other, but Howie points his hand at him, giving Tommy the chance to explain it to his kid.

“Actually, Vivie, mr. Howard here saved Daddy’s life once, can you believe it? Way before you were born.” He explains, and Vivie gasps.

“So mr. Howard is a hero too?!” She asks, notably impressed, and Howie shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

He’s saved from having to answer, though, because there is a man coming towards them with a boy, a bit older than Vivie, secure in his arms. The boy is looking at Evan, with eyes full of worry, and so is the man. With a jolt, Tommy recognizes him as the paramedic that was taking care of Sal earlier.

“Chim!”, the medic exclaims, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looks at Evan, who’s fidgeting slightly, but still has his eyes closed, and then back at Howie. “Is Buck alright?!”

“Will Buck be okay?!” The boy asks at the same time, his voice breaking as he sniffles.

His red hoodie is as dirty as Vivie’s clothes, and Tommy realizes he was probably caught in the tsunami too. He wonders briefly if the kid is Evan’s son, but then realizes he probably wouldn’t call him by a nickname if that was the case.

“Hey, Christopher, Buck will be fine, I promise.” Bobby is the one to answer, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s just a little tired right now. But you can sit by his side until he wakes up, what do you think?”

“Can I, dad?” Christopher asks, and the medic that’s holding him nods, then puts him down by Evan’s bed. He takes Evan’s hand in his, gently squeezing it. Hen gently takes the pair of glasses that are hanging from Buck’s neck and places them on the boy’s face, and he smiles at her.

The familiarity between them makes Tommy realize that his father, the medic that took care of Sal, is with the 118, and the coincidence leaves him speechless. What brings him back to reality is the small tug on his shirt, and as he looks at Vivie, he realizes she’s asking him to put her down. Tommy does, and she goes straight to Christopher with a small smile.

“You’re Christopher, right?” She asks, and the boy nods at her, a frown on his face. “Mr. Evan was worried that you’d be mad at him because he lost you. But you’re not, right?”

“No!” Christopher exclaims, as if the mere idea of being mad at Evan is absurd. “He was trying to help people, it wasn’t his fault!”

“I told him that!” Vivie exclaims triumphantly. “I said he was a hero, and that you wouldn’t be mad.”

“How do you know Buck?” Christopher asks her curiously.

“He saved me! When I got lost from…” She trails off, and her little blue eyes widen as if she’s just remembered something important. Vivie turns back to Tommy, and he sees in alarm that she’s on the verge of tears. “Daddy!”

“What, pixie? What’s the matter?” Tommy asks hurriedly, picking her up again and holding her close, but it’s no good, she’s still agitated, clutching his shirt in her tiny hand.

“Uncle Sal got hurt! We need to find him! I was s-so happy to see you that I forgot, but we need to find him! Mr. Evan was going to help me, but now he can’t, and I don’t want uncle Sal to get more hurt!” She sobs against his shoulder, and Tommy shushes her, rubbing circles on her back and bouncing her slightly.

“Baby, it’s alright, shh.” He whispers to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I found uncle Sal.”

She looks up at him, her sobs subsiding and her eyes widened in surprise.

“You did?!”

“Well, not me, but someone did and brought him here. But I’ve seen him, and he’s okay, I promise.” Tommy reassures her, and Vivie sobs once more, but it’s filled with relief this time.

“Daddy, do you promise? Can I see him?!” She asks, and Tommy nods right away.

“Of course you can, pixie. He’ll be so happy to see you.” He promises, and then turns to Howard, who’s been watching them with a fond smile. Tommy shifts Vivie so he can hold her with one arm and extends his hand for him. “Howie. Thank you so much. To all of you. I wouldn’t have found her if I hadn’t run into you” He says, looking at Captain Nash, Hen and the medic whose name he still doesn’t know.

“We’re just glad everything turned out okay, Tommy.” Captain Nash says warmly, and Tommy smiles at him.

Then, he looks at Evan’s still unconscious form on the bed, and back at the captain. He desperately wants to thank the man properly, but he knows Vivie won’t be settled until she sees Sal, and he knows his best friend is probably beside himself, wondering what’s happening to Tommy and her. Nash, however, seems to understand Tommy’s struggle, and nods at Tommy.

“Go. We’ll wait.” He reassures him, and Tommy nods gratefully at him.

“We’ll be back.” Tommy promises, and then he is gone, heading towards his best friend, his daughter safely in his arms thanks to the angel he’s leaving behind.

--

Buck doesn’t wake up all at once. Consciousness comes in small waves; at first he’s only aware of the sounds around him, the low murmur of familiar voices that allow him to come back slowly and steadily. Then, he becomes aware of the throbbing pain on his leg, which is stretched out. That’s how he realizes he’s lying down on scratchy sheets that feel very hospital-like (and yes, he wishes he wasn’t that familiar with what hospital sheets feel like). But as the events of the day come back to his memory, a sense of urgency forces him to full conscience, and his eyes open with a rush.

“Christopher! Genevieve!” Buck exclaims, and only when he tries to sit up on the bed does he feel the tug of a small warm hand against his.

“About time you woke up” Christopher says, and Buck looks at him with tear-filled eyes.

The young boy has his glasses back, and that signature smile that never fails to make Buck happy as well. He can’t understand why he’s still on the receiving end of it after everything that happened, though, or why Eddie is allowing Chris to be near him in the first place.

“Chris,” Buck says, sitting up on the bed, and taking Chris’ other hand in his. Because if this is the last time he’ll be allowed to be around him, he’s going to make it count. “Listen, buddy. I am so so sorry. I should have kept you safe, and I didn’t, and I…”

“Yeah, you did.” Chris argues, looking earnestly in Buck’s eyes, and he feels absolutely vulnerable under his gaze. “You kept me safe from the first wave, and you had me safe in the truck.”

“Yeah! But then I lost you!” He says, worried that Christopher is not understanding how bad Buck screwed up.

“Well, yeah, but you looked for me. A lot. Vivie told me. And she told me you thought I’d be mad, but I’m not. You’re still my favorite grown-up, Buck.”

Chris’ words and the way he’s looking back at Buck, like he’s still a hero, like Buck didn’t fail him, are too much. Buck blinks, trying to keep the tears at bay, but he can’t; the day has been too rough. Chris, however, seems to sense Buck’s emotions are getting the best of him; he wraps his small arms around Buck’s waist, resting his head against Buck’s chest. Buck hugs him back, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his curls.

“Thank you, bud. I’m so glad you’re safe.” He whispers, and Chris just hums at him.

“‘Favorite grown-up’, huh? I’m kinda jealous, gotta admit.”

When Buck hears Eddie’s voice, he lets go of Chris and looks up at his best friend, bracing himself for the anger in his eyes. But Eddie is smiling playfully at them, his posture relaxed. As Buck looks around, he faintly notices Hen and Bobby hovering near him, but he can’t talk to them before he apologizes to Eddie; that has to be his priority.

“Eddie! I am so sorry, man, I can’t even begin to…”

“Then don’t.” Eddie says softly, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing it. “Don’t even begin, because you have nothing to apologize for. He’s here, and he’s safe, and that’s all that matters, alright?”

Buck can’t take Eddie’s forgiveness yet, not entirely anyway. There’s still too much guilt pooling on his chest, so he decides to focus on something else.

“And Genevieve? Where is she?” He asks, looking around and not seeing either Genevieve or her father. He tries not to be disappointed by the fact they’re gone; he’d have liked to say goodbye.

“Tommy took her to see her uncle Sal, but they’ll be back.” Bobby tells him, and Buck looks at him in surprise at the amount of information in that short sentence.

“You know her dad’s name?!” It’s the first thing he registers, and then the rest of Bobby’s sentence sinks in. “Wait, you found her uncle?! Is he okay? Is he alive?!”

“Calm down before you pass out again, please.” Bobby asks calmly, and then he sits at Buck’s side, his eyes alternating between Buck and the IV still hooked up to his arm. The captain looks weary and relieved at the same time. “As it turns out, the little girl you were helping is the daughter of a former 118 guy, Tommy Kinard. He’s a pilot at Harbor station now. And Sal, her uncle, is his best friend. He used to work with us too, a long time ago. He’s hurt his head pretty bad, but he’s alright”

“Oh thank God. She was so worried.” Buck says, relaxing back against the pillow. Eddie has taken Chris and they are sitting on a stool next to his bed, cuddling together in silence. That fills Buck with relief, and he sighs, closing his eyes for a bit.

He’s still exhausted, and the dull throbbing in his leg is intensifying into stabs of sharp pain. Buck forced his body to the limit, and now he’s paying the price, but he can’t regret it. Not when Chris and Vivie are reunited with their dads.

Before he can voice his discomfort, though, he sees Chimney jogging towards them. He smiles when he sees Buck is awake, and promptly shoves a water bottle and a cereal bar into his hands.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Buckaroo.” He says, patting his shoulder gently. “Eat something, or Maddie will kill us both.”

“Thanks, Chim” He says hoarsely, sitting up on the bed..

Buck eagerly opens the bottle first, taking a big sip and sighing as it eases the pain on his sore throat. As he takes a small bite of the cereal bar, easing his hunger and thirst, his leg decides it’s done waiting for attention. The pain intensifies, and Buck can’t help but flinch a movement that is quickly caught by Hen’s sharp gaze.

“Alright, Buckaroo, finish your snack so we can get some painkillers into your system.” She asks, and Buck, who’d usually stubbornly reject the idea of using painkillers, especially the strong ones that help his leg, just nods meekly; he’s in too much pain. “And then I think you should take it very easy the next few days. It wasn’t your fault, but you pushed yourself way too hard today.”

“Hen’s right, kid.” Bobby adds gently. “Once the painkillers kick in, we’ll take you home, and then you can get some rest, ok?”

Getting some rest sounds wonderful in Buck’s opinion, and he nods at them both, his mouth too occupied with chewing. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.

“Not so fast, Cap.” Chim quips, and inexplicably smirks at Buck. “He can’t go anywhere before Tommy and Vivie come back and he gets to play the hero.”

Buck blushes at that, but he can’t help a small smile from coming to his lips at knowing Genevieve and her father are coming back. And, with a small leap in his heart, he thinks that his giddiness isn’t entirely about Vivie.

But he’s wise enough to keep that thought to himself.

--

Tommy crosses the field hospital with quick strides, Vivie's small frame a comforting weight in his arms. As they walk around, he notices that things are calming down; there are fewer people around, the doctors and nurses don't seem to be rushing so much, and the overall chaos is more controlled.

Things are settling down, as they usually do after a big tragedy, and Tommy privately thinks they’ll only see how bad it was on the next day. He sends a silent thought for all the people who didn’t have the luck he did, of finding the loved ones they lost to the waves.

Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.

"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash.

The minute she sees Sal, she gasps loudly, and her little hand curls up in Tommy’s shirt, gripping it tightly. Vivie’s staring at Sal as if he isn’t real, as if she’s trying to convince herself that he is.

"UNCLE SAL!" Genevieve's exclamation can be heard through the whole hospital, and she tugs insistently at Tommy's shirt. "Daddy, daddy, put me down, please!", she begs, and Tommy is more than happy to abide.

The second her feet hit the floor, she's rushing to Sal's bed, climbing up on it as fast as her little legs allow. Sal wraps his arms around her, pulling Genevieve to his lap and holding her close. Her arms wrap around his neck, and they hug each other tightly. Tommy can see the tension leaving Sal’s shoulders as he wraps his daughter in his strong arms, and his own heartbeat seems to finally settle as he sees them together.

“Vivie, oh my God! I was so worried, kiddo, so worried!” Sal says, his voice thick with emotion like Tommy’s never seen before.

“Me too, uncle Sal!” Vivie says, and then she looks at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Cause you got really hurt, and then I didn’t see you anymore, and I was so afraid!”

It’s clear that all the events of the day are finally catching up to Genevieve, and she lets out a broken sob, her whole body shaking with it. Tommy’s first instinct is to jump in and get her in his arms so he can comfort her, but he holds back. That’s not what Vivie needs; she needs reassurance from the uncle she almost lost, not from him. And he trusts Sal to do it.

“Hey, hey, shh” Sal soothes her gently. “I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid, kiddo.”

He picks Vivie up, sitting her on his lap, pressing her head against his chest. She clutches his filthy Ramones T-shirt in her tiny fist, and Sal runs one massive hand in her hair, messing it up even further. They’ll wash and braid it again when he puts her to bed, which will happen about a thousand hours later than it should, but he couldn’t care less.

“It was scary…” She admits, her voice a tiny whisper, and Tommy’s heart breaks for her.

Genevieve has always been his brave little girl; the only fear she’s ever had was the dark. Tommy has been able to protect her from that, putting a night light in her bedroom, letting her sleep with him when it gets too bad. But will he be able to protect her from this? From the fear of water, fear of the sea, from the nightmares that she’ll get from this? He doesn’t know, and the thought scares him.

“I know, kiddo.” Sal tells her, bringing Tommy back to the present. “It was scary to me too.”

“I r-really thought I wouldn’t see you anymore, uncle Sal.” She tells him, and Sal exchanges a helpless look with Tommy.

Neither of them wanted her to learn what losing someone feels like, and Tommy would have given anything for his daughter not to have this experience. But it’s happened, and now all they can do is reassure her that everything turned out okay in the end.

Sal takes a deep sigh, and then presses a long kiss to Vivie’s forehead. Tommy can see his eyes are filled with tears, but he does his best to swallow them and smile at the little girl on his lap. “What, and leave all the fun of watching you grow up to your boring dad? No way, kiddo.”

Genevieve lets out a watery giggle at that, looking from Sal to Tommy. “Daddy, uncle Sal said you’re boring!” She gasps, and Tommy smiles wryly, coming closer to them.

“I heard it, baby. Maybe we should let Uncle Sal go home on foot, then? He won’t want a ride with someone this boring after all.”

“Nah, I’ll take it the ride. Even if you’re boring, Vivie is cool.” Sal teases, Sal teases, which makes Vivie giggle in delight and Tommy smack his shoulder (a lot more lightly than he normally would). Then, his expression turns serious, and he looks earnestly at his best friend.

“Tommy. I am sorry, man. I am so sorry.” He says, and Tommy can see he’s about to cry again. Without a word, he wraps his arms firmly around Sal, Vivie caught between them, and hugs his best friend tightly.

“I know. You don’t have to be. What matters to me is that you’re both okay.” Tommy says, and he means every word. Sal pats his back and nods at him when Tommy finishes the hug.

He sits by the edge of Sal’s bed, and Vivie scrambles from Sal’s lap to his, cuddling up against his chest. Her body is heavy against his, exhaustion catching up to her. He holds her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“How are you feeling, man?” Tommy asks, and Sal smirks at him.

“Like I’ve been hit in the head by debris.” He quips, and Tommy glares at him until he shrugs. “Look, I think I’ll be worse in the morning. They gave me good stuff for the pain, so I won’t feel it for real until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, it’d make me a hell lot more comfortable if you spent the night with us. I don’t want you going home alone.” Tommy says, and Sal rolls his eyes, poking Vivie’s arm.

“Your dad is such a mother hen, isn’t he?” He teases, and the little girl giggles. Tommy loves that sound more than anything in the world. “But okay, I think a sleepover sounds fun.”

“Sleepover!” Vivie celebrates, making Tommy and Sal chuckle. Then Sal frowns, as if he remembered something, and a sad expression takes over his face.

“Aw, kiddo, and I still owe you a unicorn, don’t I? Can’t believe we went through all that trouble and you didn’t get him in the end.”

Vivie gasps at that, kneeling on the bed and covering her mouth with her tiny hands. She looks from Tommy to Sal and then to the floor, her eyes widening.

“No, uncle Sal, but I did get him! I protected Marsh, but I forgot him with Mr. Evan! Daddy, we have to go back to your firefighter friends and get him back!”

“We will, baby. Daddy wants to thank mr. Evan anyway.” Tommy reassures her, and Sal frowns at him.

“Mr. Evan? ‘Firefighter friends’? The hell she is talking about, Tommy?” He asks, and Tommy refrains himself from scolding him for saying ‘hell’ in front of Vivie, because she doesn’t seem to pay much attention.

Tommy smirks, already anticipating Sal’s reaction to knowing it was Nash’s team that got Tommy to Vivie. “So, you’re never gonna believe this…”

--

After telling the whole story to Sal and telling him to stay put until Tommy comes for him (‘What, you think I wanna get up and go give Nash a hug and a cupcake? I’m better off here, thanks’), Tommy takes Vivie back to where the 118 was gathered around Evan’s bed.

Sal, who’s much better at keeping up with LAFD gossip than Tommy, has already informed him that Evan is the firefighter who got caught under the ladder truck a few months ago, and that only makes Tommy admire the man even more. He can only imagine how painful it must have been, walking around with a kid all day with his leg still recovering from such a trauma.

When they get there, they’re greeted by the sound of laughter, and the bed is surrounded by Nash, Howie and Hen. The medic - Eddie, according to Sal - is sitting on a stool, with his kid asleep against his chest. They’re all looking at Evan with exasperated fondness and soft smiles.

Evan himself is leaning against the pillow, his leg stretched out in front of him. His cheeks are flushed, and he doesn’t look as exhausted anymore, but his blue eyes are hazy and his smile is a little loopy. Even so, Tommy can’t help but notice he is absolutely gorgeous, and that his earlier comparison to an angel was not too out there; Evan has positively cherubic features, and the fact that he has his arms wrapped around an unicorn plushie only adds to his charm.

“Marsh!” Vivie exclaims the minute she spots the plushie, and everyone turns to them.

Tommy smiles at them in greeting as Vivie tugs on his T-shirt to let her down. Tommy does, and she rushes to Evan’s bed, stopping herself before climbing in it and looking at him shyly. Evan, however, smiles at her, bright and welcoming, and Tommy’s heart skips a treacherous beat. Get a grip, Kinard, you can’t lose it just because he is kind to your kid. He’s probably straight anyway, he tells himself firmly, but his eyes are still taking in the charming scene unfolding in front of him.

“C’mere, Vivie.” Evan says, and it’s the first time Tommy’s hearing his voice. It’s warm, and cheery, even though his speech is a little slurred, probably from everything that happened.

He pats the mattress next to him, and Genevieve doesn’t need to be told twice. She climbs up on the bed, and Evan offers the unicorn to her. “Your friend was missing you, you know?”, he tells her with a lovely smile.

“You kept him safe for me, Mr. Evan! Thank you!” She says in wonder, hugging the plushie close to her chest. Then, she looks at Evan, and puts the plushie aside, kneeling on the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his flushed one. “And thank you for keeping me safe. You made things not so scary, and you helped me find Uncle Sal.”

It’s clear the heartfelt thanks from the five-year-old takes Evan off-guard, and he’s slow on his reaction. Still, he wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes in delight, gently stroking her hair.

“You’re quite welcome, baby. Having you with me made things not so scary too, so thank you. For helping me to get here.”

The others are all watching the scene with a mix of fondness and amusement. Tommy himself could forever stand there and watch this ridiculously adorable man interact with his kid, but he can’t; he has his own thanks to give. He approaches the bed slowly, and both Vivie and Evan look up at him. His daughter promptly holds the unicorn up so Tommy can see it. It’s wet, and filthy, but he guesses it’s still sort of cute.

“Look, Daddy, this is Marsh! Uncle Sal got him for me!” She tells him excitedly, and Tommy chuckles, bending down to kiss her forehead.

“Marsh looks like a great addition to your plushie friends, baby. He’ll probably look even better after we give him a bath.” He muses, and Vivie giggles, going back to stroke the plushie’s fur gently.

What surprises Tommy, though, and apparently everyone else, is that Evan giggles right along. Tommy refuses to acknowledge how adorable it is to see this 6-foot-2 man giggling along with his five-year-old.

“Isn’t that funny, though? A unicorn taking a bath? It should be a glitter bath at least.” He says, and then laughs at his own joke. His friends are looking at him in amusement, and Hen crosses her arms, smirking.

“I guess the painkillers are kicking in, huh, Buckaroo?” She says fondly, and Evan tries to handwave her, but the gesture is a tad bit clumsy.

“M’fine!” He exclaims, and then he runs a hand on Vivie’s plushie, looking at it in wonder. “Oh my God, he is so soft! Eddie, have you ever seen a softer plushie?”

Eddie snickers, and so does Chimney. Bobby is staring at Evan with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. And Tommy? Tommy is trying very hard not to melt from the sheer cuteness.

“Tommy, if you have anything to say to him, I think you should say it now, before we completely lose him.” Chim recommends with a chuckle, and Tommy startles. He does have something to say.

He turns to Evan, and the man has a loopy smile on his face, looking at Tommy with hazy eyes filled with something that he can’t quite define, but it makes Tommy blush furiously. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, and forces himself to look the man in the eye.

“Mr. Evan”, he starts, and the man frowns, as if something isn’t quite right about that greeting.

“No mister. You can call me...” He trails off, as if he’s looking for the right word, and then he smiles at Tommy as if he’s had the brightest idea ever. “Evan! Yeah! You can totally call me Evan.”

“Evan, then. I’m Tommy. Tommy Kinard.” He says, offering a hand, and Evan shakes it.

His hand is warm against Tommy’s, even if his handshake is a little wobbly. The moment they touch, Tommy feels as if a spark of electricity rushes through him, as cliché as that sounds. Evan must feel it too, because he looks up at Tommy with raised eyebrows.

“I know, Bobby said. I’m your re… re… Ah, it’s a big word, but I entered the 118 when you left. Small world, huh?” He says, with a tiny frown between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to make sense of it, and Tommy has an irrational urge to kiss it away. He doesn’t, but it’s a near thing.

“Very.” Tommy agrees, and then he sits down by Evan’s side. Even if he’s not entirely aware of what’s going on, Tommy needs to thank him. “Evan, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did. Vivie is my life, and you saved her. There are no words to express how grateful I am.”

Evan seems to take a while to process his words, but then he shrugs modestly. He looks down at Vivie and tries for a wink, but it comes off as more of a sleepy blink. Tommy’s daughter giggles anyway, holding Marsh close to her chest.

“Ah, you don’t have to thank me, you know?” He slurs. “I did what everyone would do.”

“No, you didn’t.You did way more. You kept her safe, and you protected her, and you brought her to find her uncle.” Tommy tells him firmly, taking his hand in his and squeezing it. He tries to ignore the goosebumps it brings to his arms. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But if there is anything I can do for you, ever, you just have to say the word.”

Evan nods, but stays silent. His hand is still wrapped around Tommy’s, and he looks down at them for a moment. Then he looks back at Tommy, his blue eyes determined.

“I mean, you could ask me out!” He exclaims, and everyone turns at him, eyes widened, including Tommy. He’s so surprised he doesn’t remember to separate their hands.

“I… I could… W-what?” Tommy asks, sputtering and feeling a blush covering his cheeks and all the way down to his neck (nice going, you idiot). It doesn’t help that half his former team is watching it with smirks on their faces.

“You could ask me out!” Evan repeats it, his brows furrowing as if he can’t quite understand what’s giving Tommy pause. “You’re ridiculously gorgeous, you know that? I’d say yes if you asked me out.”

Tommy is left completely speechless and wishing that the floor would swallow him whole. Captain Nash is looking at Evan with that same fatherly exasperation of before, and Eddie and Howie are shaking with silent laughter. Not even Vivie helps; the minute Evan says he’s gorgeous, her daughter starts giggling uncontrollably, looking between them with way too much amusement. Hen is the only one who seems to take pity on the two of them, because she puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Alright, Buckaroo, that’s enough out of you! Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

“Can’t sleep, Hen, I’m going out with the hot pilot. Weren’t you paying attention?” He grumbles, but as Hen helps him lay back, he closes his eyes, resting back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

Tommy is flustered, and shocked, and impossibly endeared. He wants to ask Evan out, he wants to do it now, but he won’t hold a man accountable for things he said under heavy painkillers.

“Daddy, are you going out with mr. Evan?” Vivie asks, and Tommy, if possible, blushes even more. He takes one more look at Evan’s face, eyes closed and a small smile still playing on his lips, and he desperately wishes to tell her that yes, he will.

“I… No, baby. Mr. Evan didn’t really mean it, he’s just sleepy. It’s like when you say silly things in your sleep, remember?” He tells her, and she nods, but looks absolutely disappointed. “Besides, we have to pick up uncle Sal and go home, don’t we? It’s way past your bedtime. Say goodbye to everyone and let’s go.”

She does as she’s told, sparing a hug for everyone and making Eddie promise she and Chris will have a playdate soon (Tommy actually likes the idea; Vivie has plenty of friends, but she could always do with more). He agrees to set it up and says his own goodbyes, shaking everyone’s hands. When it comes to Chimney’s turn, though, he smirks at Tommy and slips a paper into his pocket.

“Here’s Buck’s number and address. You know, just in case you wanna check if he meant it or was just being silly.” He says with a knowing smirk, and Tommy looks at him in surprise. Howie shrugs, and then goes back to talking to Hen.

And Tommy should throw the paper away, he really should. Evan is probably straight; Tommy has a daughter and hasn’t really dated in years. Everything tells him this is not a good idea.

He folds it carefully in his pocket anyway.

Tag list:

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21

@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie

@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi

@deelovesbooks @teabroomsandbooks

[joocomics]

1k followers celebration event — ⌞⌗ xdh drabble⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 bf!hyeongjun x fem!reader

genre: smut — 18+ wc: 0.8

request: “you just want me to do all the work” + “it’s kinda hot” + thigh riding

contains: established relationship, sub!reader, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, banter, light degradation kink, name calling (slut once + puppy once), (consensual) filming

[ event masterlist | xdinary heroes masterlist ]

“Baby, please!”

“Shhh, don’t get distracted.” Hyeongjun says with a calm tone drastically different than yours. He cannot look away from your bare cunt sticking to the rugged denim material of his jeans - the pair he wore to your first date. There’s a dark patch forming beneath you as you move around which makes his mouth salivate, but not enough to put an end to this pleasant show you’re giving him right now. “Speed it up, baby, we’re short on time.”

“We wouldn’t be if you just helped me out a little bit.” You mutter with a soft frown on your face.

To Hyeongjun, the blissful whimper that leaves your lips sounds like you’re doing just fine.

“You’re the one begging to cum.”

“You just want me to do all the work,” you bark back at him.

Hyeongjun shoots you a quick look of surprise - one that if you examine closely, you’ll notice how your attitude turns him on. Almost a year later, the way you react to his teasing remarks still gets to him.

However, you have your eyes closed shut due to the rising pleasure; at this point it feels impossible to stop, the denim fabric, rough and thick, suddenly feels like exactly what you’ve been needing.

Your head falls back as you grind against his thigh, turning that dark spot bigger and darker with the amount of arousal leaking out of you; just another indicator of how easily you get worked up when Hyeongjun is around.

“It’s kinda hot, don’t you think?”

His light-hearted voice, oozing with erotic playfulness, forces your eyes open. Assertive smile is laying on your boyfriend’s lips - he already knows your answer to this question and that you’re probably not going to respond to avoid admitting the obvious truth.

You watch him resting his arms on the back of the couch as if to demonstrate even more clearly that he’s not planning on moving a finger. But you see the signs very clearly and they're enough to let you know that, though he's enjoying this to the fullest, he’s still holding back from something.

The clues are subtle, but you catch them easily as you hold your gaze to study him - the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the slight parting of his lips, the tension in his jaw as if he’s restraining something, and his eyes flickering with something deeper than just amusement.

“All I think is that you can enjoy yourself too... by touching me.” You shift your tone into more innocent one, tugging on his shirt to invite him for a kiss, but unluckily, your manipulative tactics only make him snicker silently.

Hearing you cuss through a shaky whisper makes Hyeongjun drop his attention to his lap, focusing it on the precision of your intense rubs. Knowing how sensitive you are, the friction you're earning by grinding your clit like that must be much stronger now.

“Holy shit, baby,” he gasps softly; his craving eyes take a good glimpse of the mess you made of his jeans as you're in the middle of adjusting on his thigh. The lewd sight has him wetting his lips until they curve into a satisfied smirk; there's a string of arousal dangling from your pussy when you lift up to show him what you've done. “What has you so fucking wet?”

You lower back down, resuming the familiar motions that fill your body with the sweet delight you've been hungry for all day. You don't even need to apply pressure like in the beginning anymore; light steady rubs along his thigh are going to lead you to your desired relief sooner than you think.

“Just thinking about me touching your body makes you drip, is that it?” His eyes, glinting with lust, meet yours as you're about to moan from brushing your clit against the soaked material. “Didn't know you can get so fucking desperate.”

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, enjoying the power of his words and how they arouse you further, when suddenly a short familiar sound makes you open your eyes.

Hyeongjun is holding his phone in front of you, filming the area where your folds are glued to his jeans.

“I want to go back to this whenever I want,” he says, staring at his phone screen that's recording it all. “My needy slut humping my leg like a puppy.”

“Baby!” You groan frustrated at his mocking.

Then, you hear his phone buzz with a notification.

“They're on their way,” Hyeongjun gives you a half-smirk as he reads the message he just received. “Better stop whining and focus unless you want to get caught.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[sorinethemastermind]

Whumpuary 2025 | Prompt: Rescue | Part 3 of 3

 Soren sagged back against the post as soon as his captors had left, chin bumping against his chest, the restraints above his head the only thing keeping him upright. The rope dug deeper into his wrists as his full weight pulled against it, but he ignored it.

 What was the point? They had Ezran. He’d failed. Again. One job and he’d somehow managed to fail at it twice.

 And yet, some small part of his brain that he couldn’t quite smother was still so happy to have the air back in his lungs - to be able to breath - that he nearly smiled.

 Soren choked back a sob, picturing the young king’s face as they led him away.

 “It’s going to be okay, Soren. You’re going to be okay now.” He squeezed his eyes shut, but all that did was summon an image of Claudia before him, her eyes black voids, skin palid, hair falling across her face, a white streak through it. “You’re gonna be better now. That's all that matters.”

 He could hear them as though they were in the room with him, sacrificing themselves over and over for him. Claudia. Ezran. Viren.

 Why wouldn’t they just let him do this one thing for them? Was it really so much to ask? To let him go, to let him do the one thing he might actually be good at?

 There was a muffled sound from the balcony, followed by a low creaking as the doors swung open. Soren didn’t bother turning to look. It was probably just the wind. Or, if it was something, he doubted it was anything he wanted to see.

 Ezran, I’m so sorry. I failed you.

 Footsteps approached, two sets. One nearly silent despite the hard stone floor, the other bearing the faint clip of a heel. Still, Soren kept his eyes firmly shut. Caspian and his pet mage, back again, no doubt. Better he didn’t see it coming.

 There was a sharp intake of breath and the footsteps came to a halt. Would they kill him? Try and get information out of him? What more did they need to know, now that they had Ezran? Unless Evren wanted to know something about Viren. Soren swore that, if it was the last thing he did (or the last thing he didn’t do) he wouldn’t tell them anything.

 His eyes snapped open and he stared upwards to tell them just that, but the words died on his lips as he saw the two figures standing over him. He averted his gaze, quickly. “What do you want this time?”

 Corvus - or the figure pretending to be Corvus - stepped forward. Soren couldn’t quite help but glance at him out of the corner of his eye, catching sight of the wide, worried brown eyes and pained expression. They were laying it on a little thick, weren’t they, with the tremor in his voice as he spoke?

 “Soren… Soren what happened. Are you-” Corvus broke off, dropping to his knees before him. He reached out hesitantly, like he was afraid he’d break him, and gently brushed the hair out of Soren’s face. “What did they do to you?”

 Soren flinched away from his touch. “Stop playing games, you already got what you wanted.”

 “What do you-”

 “Where’s Ezran?” Callum spoke up, cutting Corvus off, gaze scanning the room, voice high and scared.

 Soren stared at him, then, after a long moment, he laughed. It was a hollow, bitter sound that echoed off the cold stone walls. They both gazed at him, eyes wide and scared, Corvus’ lips a thin line, tugging down at the corner’s.

 “You really think I’m going to fall for this crap?” Soren jerked forward, rope biting into his wrists, fresh blood oozing from the cuts already there. “I’m done playing your games, you already got what you wanted. Just fucking finish this.”

 Corvus, still kneeling before him, dropped a hand to his belt, resting it on the handle of his knife. Soren let himself fall back down, drooping from the restraints above him once more. He wanted to fight, to scream, to spit in the mage’s face, grab the knife from his belt, and stick it where his heart was supposed to be. He wanted to run down the corridor, fight his way out into the courtyard, and drag that traitor Caspian all the way up to the highest battlement before flinging him from it. He wanted to see Ezran tomorrow, jelly smeared on his nose from a hearty breakfast, chatting with Opeli in the council chamber.

 But, more than anything, he wanted the Corvus kneeling before him to be his Corvus. Not some cruel figment of his imagination or a mage’s trick. At least, he thought, I got to see him one more time. In a way.

 “Do it then,” Soren said, glaring daggers at the man before him. But his gaze softened as it met those familiar brown eyes, and his shoulder relaxed. If this was it, then maybe it would be nicer not to be alone. Even if it was pretend. So he pretended the man was Corvus, and he met his eyes as he slid the knife from his belt.

 And cut the bonds around Soren’s wrists.

 Soren slumped to the ground without them to hold him up, eyes widening with surprise, wincing at how stiff and sore his arms were from being held in the same position for so long. Corvus caught him before he could topple over, placing a steadying hand on each of his shoulders. 

 “Soren?”

 “This is a trick.” Soren’s voice wavered as he spoke. “An illusion.”

 “I’m real.”

 Soren snorted, “That’s what you would say if you were an illusion.”

 “What’s something only I would know?”

 “We don’t have time for this,” Callum said, voice urgent, hands clenched at his sides. “Ez could be-”

 “What is something only I would know?” Corvus repeated, eyes still locked with Soren’s, ignoring the prince entirely.

 “When I asked you to join the Crownguard,” Soren mumbled, eyes darting across Corvus’ face, searching for some sign that this was real. That he was real. “Where did I do it?”

 “The wall, overlooking the forest. You said it was your favorite place in the castle.”

 “How did I do it?”

 “You fumbled a bit,” Corvus admitted. “You didn’t stick to your script. But then you said that Ezran wanted me to stay.”

 “Who wanted you to stay?” Soren asked, voice barely a whisper.

 Corvus’ hand reached out, and this time, when he brushed the hair from his face, Soren didn’t move away. “You did,” he said, lips barely moving, voice so hushed Soren almost didn’t catch it.

 Soren leaned into Corvus, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. He smelled like him. How would Evren have known how Corvus smelled? Or the way his eyes smiled even when his lips weren’t? Or the way that-

 “You’re here,” he managed, emotion swelling in his chest, making his words come out half choked.

 “I’m here.” Corvus wrapped his arms around him, giving him a gentle squeeze. “But Soren,” his grip didn’t loosen, but he pulled back slightly, just enough that their eyes could meet, “where is Ezran?”

 “They took him. I’m so sorry, they took him.” Soren choked back a sob. “I- I tried so hard to protect him but they… I’m so sorry.” He stared at the ground, unable to meet Corvus’ gaze and too scared to look at Callum. “I failed,” he whispered. “Again.”

 Corvus pulled him close again, hands clenching behind his back, grip tightening. “Where? When?”

 “I- I don’t know. It couldn’t have been that long. Maybe ten minutes. But Corvus, they’ve got people on the inside. I don’t know who to trust. And- And they had a mage.”

 “A mage?” Callum’s voice was sharp. “Was it-”

 “No,” Soren’s voice shook. “Someone who… who knew Viren.”

 Corvus slowly released him, easing him back down to lean against the side of the bed. He cast a nervous glance over Soren, taking it all in; the bruises and the cuts and the blood. The wide, scared eyes and wobbly voice.

 “Did they… are you alright?”

 “I’m fine,” Soren said, fighting to keep his voice level. “We need to go. We need to find Ezran.”

 “We will,” Corvus said, getting up. “But you need to stay here. Soren, you’re hurt and-”

 “I-” Soren gritted his teeth as he pushed himself to his feet. “Am not… Staying here…” he gasped as he shifted his weight to his bad leg and Corvus rushed forward, catching him as he staggered.

 “Soren, please.” His eyes were wide and worried. “Just let us handle it.”

 Soren opened his mouth to argue, but shut it at the look in Corvus’ eyes. It was pointless. He knew they were right. He was in no shape to fight. “Be careful. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t trust what you see.”

 “We will.” Corvus eased him back down, this time to sit on the bed itself, and lingered for a moment before releasing him. By the time he stepped back, Callum was already halfway to the door.

 “Come on,” the mage urged. “We need to hurry.”

 Corvus threw one last worried glance over his shoulder at Soren before rushing from the room. Soren waited until he could no longer hear their hurried footsteps, then he gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the bed, prepared this time for his injured leg to meet the ground. It didn’t stop the small gasp from escaping his lips. 

 Being in no shape to fight didn’t mean he wasn’t going to. With Callum and Corvus, they might actually stand a chance.

 Soren staggered from the room, wincing with every other step, leaning on the wall for support. He clung to the uneven cobbles, levering himself along. There were bodies in the hall, their armor all the same, making it impossible to distinguish between friend and foe. Soren stopped just long enough to wrest a dagger from one of their belts. Their swords, and most of their other weapons, had already been taken to arm the other insurgents.

 “Sorry,” Soren apologized to the fallen form. “Or not sorry, if you’re a traitor. Only sorry if you’re a good guy.”

 He stumbled further down the hall, shifting the knife between his hands until the feeling fully returned to his fingers. His grip tightened around it, knuckles white except for the blotches of red blood dried upon them. Light flashed outside, followed by a boom of thunder that rattled the window panes. It was swiftly followed by the sound of metal on metal, voices rising from the courtyard. 

 Soren hurried down the hall, pushing off the walls and careening around corners. He had to be there. He had to be there. He had to-

 In his haste Soren put his full weight on his injured leg and it gave out, sending him crashing to the ground. He groped for the knife in the dark, wishing for another flash of lightning to see by. After a moment his wish was granted and thunder boomed outside again. Light glinted off metal and he grabbed the blade from where it had fallen, pushing himself back to his feet.

 He hurried onward, finally pushing out into the courtyard as another peel of thunder sounded. He squinted against the bright light of Callum’s lightning spell, grip tightening on the dagger in his hand. When his vision cleared he stared around, taking in the chaos unfolding before him. Several of the insurgents were already on the ground, most seeming to have been taken out by Callum’s spells, a few bearing the telltale marks of Corvus’... Hook? Chain? Thing?

 Soren didn’t have the time or the energy to figure out what the thing was called just then.

 A few steps away, Corvus was engaged in combat with Caspian, Callum struggling to keep the rest of the others away from the pair of them so they couldn’t group up on him. The Dark Mage was nowhere to be seen.

 Soren watched as Corvus’ chain wrapped around Caspian’s blade, but hope turned to fear as the traitor leaned into the motion, using the connection to tug Corvus into range. He pulled a shorter blade from his belt, the steel flashing in the moonlight. Corvus, still struggling to free his weapon from Caspian’s grip, didn’t appear to notice as the traitorous guard slunk half a step forward, adjusting the shortsword in his grip.

 “Corvus!” Soren yelled, but all that did was draw the other man’s gaze. Caspian took advantage of the moment of distraction and lunged forward at the same time that Soren did, a cruel smile playing across his lips.

 Steel met flesh as the short blade dug into it’s target’s side and the three of them stumbled back from one another. After a moment Caspian stared down, hand going to the wound in his abdomen, fingers pressing futilely against the gush of blood. His eyes widened with shock and pain. Soren lunged forward again, knocking him to the ground, blade held aloft. 

 The traitor raised his hands, one of them stained red, in an attempt to ward him off. “Don’t! Please, don-”

 The dagger sunk into his chest like a knife through butter, right through the chink in the armor Soren had once taught him how to defend. Anything else Caspian might have said was cut off instantly. Soren raised the blade above his head to do it again, but a hand caught his wrist. He jerked away from the grip, snarling as he turned, knife still raised, to find Corvus standing above him. 

 The other man dropped his hand, voice pleading. “Soren, don’t.”

 Soren glanced down to the dying man below him as Caspian made a horrible gurgling sound, blood spilling from his lips. He watched as his eyes, wide and staring, glazed over. Slowly, Soren’s shoulders slumped, and the blade fell from his hands to the pavement with a clatter. He rose unsteadily to his feet, glancing around. It was just them. Them and-

 Callum was a few steps away, arms thrown around his brother, shoulders shaking, the both of them clinging tightly to one another. 

 “Is he okay?” Soren managed, voice suddenly hollow once more, all the anger draining out of him. And with it, whatever had been keeping him standing. He staggered, and Corvus caught him once more.

 “He’s fine. We arrived just in time.”

 Soren sank to his knees, Corvus dropping to the cobbles beside him, the only thing keeping him upright.

 “Thank the stars.”

 “I think we have more to thank than the stars.”

 “I- I failed, Corvus. If it wasn’t for you and Callum-”

 “Soren, look at me.” He did, meeting those big, brown eyes that were focused solely on him. They sparkled, as though they weren’t crouched in a courtyard full of bodies, blood smeared across both their faces and armor. “You were willing to die for him, Soren. That’s more than he could ever ask of a Crownguard. More than anyone could ask.”

 “He doesn’t need to ask,” Soren said, gaze traveling over to the brothers once again. “None of you do.”

 “I know.”

 “I’d do it for you, too,” Soren said, absently, not quite thinking about the words or what they meant.

 Corvus swallowed. “I know that, too. Please never do that.”

 Soren’s gaze flicked back to him. “Thanks for coming back.”

 “Isn’t that my job, as a Crownguard?”

 “It’s a pretty dangerous job,” Soren said, after a moment, sitting on the cold cobbles with a groan. Everything hurt. “Painful, too. Not the greatest benefits.” He thought that, if he hadn’t been so worried about him, Corvus might have chuckled at that. “Why’d you do it?” Soren asked. “You didn’t have to.”

 Corvus sank down to sit on the ground beside him, wrapping an arm gingerly around Soren. He let the blond rest his head on his shoulder, taking a long moment before replying. “You asked.”

[iinterstellars]

" ─── hypothetically if someone came with only a cut and some bruises... i don't think them sleeping would be too much of an issue... " he replies in a soft voice, reassuring still only since it's obvious she's still worried about him. the water bottle comes in like it was sent by god himself, he uncaps it quickly ─ maybe a little too fast, but he's at least mindful enough to actually drink it in small sips; even though he wants to do the opposite. he's already embarrassed himself enough in front of her, doesn't want to add choking to the growing list of unsightly things he's done today. he drinks about half of the bottle in one swig before capping it again and setting it down next to him on the bench. " i hope so too, i don't think i've ever done it actually... stitched myself up i mean. " there had NEVER been the need before after all, he wasn't accident prone and even if at any point he'd gotten hurt then... he'd go to someone else, but here, he's the only one capable. which is a little bit scary to think about but... he doesn't get the time to dwell on it. defne's gentle hands are on him, warm and soft; it stops him from thinking. right at that same moment he looks down and, well, this positioning isn't any better than what he was trying to avoid, is it? she's still kneeling down between his legs, looking up at him with those big doe eyes that make his heart feel like leaping out of his chest. he blinks once, then twice; trying to remember what's the last thing she said. something about broken ribs? oh. " well... without x - rays, you just gotta see if each side of the ribcage moves the same way while breathing deeply, in any case... if i have a broken rib there's nothing to do but letting it heal naturally. " the words come out a little rushed, and he suddenly feels thirsty once again, and even though it's not exactly water what he's craving he settles for it and takes the bottle in his hands again. quickly uncapping it and drinking slowly until it's all gone. it allows him enough time to gather himself. " uh... well, there's not much to do here other than... exercising... " he admits with a sheepish chuckle, looking away from her just to keep his mind for wandering; the way he was sitting would definitely make his body betray his thoughts and he did not want that to happen. it was mortifying to even think about. " yeah... probably just a bruise. it only hurts when i breathe in. " or when i move too fast he thinks but, well, these are things he can live with. nothing life - threatening. good.

" we can get you water . " she breathes out , eyes moving back over to where the guard was moments ago . she doesn't know what thomas having a dry mouth means . surely nothing serious . maybe a dry mouth can be just a dry mouth . defne's eyes look back up to him . she's noticing his sentences are starting to drift off . he sounds tired , like he could fall asleep , and that makes defne feel like she has to start worrying again . " hypothetically , if someone came in to the clinic with a cut on their head , all bruised up . . . them falling asleep would be a bad idea, right ? " she double checks , imitating his wince as he presses the gauze to his own head . " be gentle . " defne almost sounds like she's scolding him for his own heavier hand .

she leans back on her haunches , just as the guard reappears , handing her the small plastic cup of water . she immediately hands it to thomas . " small sips . " she's heard him say the very same thing to countless others . PREVENTS CHOKING , she can hear his voice in her head , the easy , measured way he'd move around and instruct at the same time . thomas is the picture of calm and level-headed . briefly , tonight ( although it seems like longer ago ) , she swore she almost saw a different part of him . more cheeky , more open . tipsy . fun and silly . her heart picks up its pace once again , and defne works to busy herself just as he awkwardly reaches to unbutton his shirt . he struggles with one hand and defne doesn't really think before she scoots closer again and helps him unbutton the few last ones . she hasn't helped someone take off their shirt in a long while . " hopefully you won't be stitching yourself . " defne might pass out if it came to that , but she decides not to say that .

as thomas' shirt falls open , defne's eyes immediately find the decent-sized bruise on him . she inhales sharp through her teeth . her hand reaches out and the pads of her fingers gently skim over the discolouration . " how . . how do i tell if something's broken ? like a rib or something ? " defne asks , eyebrows knitting together , unsure . she looks up to him and seems to startle herself at the positioning . he's spread back , legs apart , shirt open , all muscle and ridged skin , her hand on him as if it belongs there yet simultaneously SHOULDN'T BE TOUCHING HIM . oh . she struggles to swallow . defne clears her throat a bit too loudly . her hand falls away from his bare skin . " since when do doctors have 8-packs and muscles , anyways ? " she injects her voice with classic defne blase-ness , although she feels heated and sweaty from looking at him in this state of undress . " my doctor didn't even brush his hair , sometimes , i swear . the apocalypse really raised the standards for you guys . " she needs to shut up, but she's trying hard to act normal and not think about his muscles . her on her knees . thomas' bare skin . DEFNE EXHALES AGAIN , FORCIBLY . " the bruising doesn't look that bad . " she says instead , finally .

[distantsolarsystemsandsnails]

here are some highly busy cardboard circles i made with posca marker. the lyric is from artificial limits by torres.

[triglycercule]

horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)

horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)

[gojonanami]

…I knew this gojo fake dating fic was gonna be long right?

but I’m at 8K (almost) — no smut yet — and I have to write up the conflict / resolution / confession

….sigh it’s gonna be another 15K fic isn’t it?

[perilegs]

oh no ive started looking at takumi's outfit. if i were to cosplay him that'd be like a several year commitment thing with my speed and how well i'd want to get it done, he wears expensive materials. i'd have to do so much research into how his armor is constructed bc i dont get the point of the white thing that's his collar and stuff. it's kind of like an apron in the front but in the back it's a triangle. also that piece would need very rigid structure for it to not only stay up but not slide. im not really a pattern maker and i wouldnt even know what kind of a pattern to look for as a base id modify for it. his shoulder pieces also make my brain hurt. and i think the costume would be very hot to wear and i'd risk a heat stroke any time other than in the middle of winter. im starting to think im only thinking about cosplaying him bc he might be my fave so far and he has a bow

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[totopopopo]

so i’m getting top surgery some time between the months of february and august of this year (would rather february obv but seems like summer might make more sense logistically). the thing is my extended family does not necessarily know that i have any kind of gender thing going on, not because they don’t have access to this information, but simply bc they don’t care enough about me to think about any aspect of my identity (because the world revolves around my cousin and i have always been peripheral). which means there is a very real possible future this year when i roll up to a week long extended family beach vacation like….. sans tits and with two new massive scars……… i don’t plan on explaining anything in advance bc i’m sure my cousin will be emailing everyone her own personal accommodations beforehand and i wouldn’t want to get in the way, but like…. surely at least one of them will notice? even if i don’t go shirtless and i wear a bikini despite not needing one, they will notice, surely? and from there, what happens? it’s a mystery, but also has the potential to be very fucking funny in my opinion

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[lumiereandcogsworth]

they are, indeed, everything to me (x)

[mimi-creates]

Aaaaaaaaaa, you make a wonderful point about Barf and Belch! Tricking them into making the training a game would definitely be very effective on them! Not sure how things with Stormfly would work if she’s only initially friendly with Hiccup and choose to stay that way. It would definitely be nigh on impossible to conceal Meatlug’s behaviour on the arena from Astrid and Gobber after she befriends Fishlegs.

I also see Gobber as like a second dad to Hiccup, so I think however things go with him, he’ll always have Hiccup’s best interests at heart! So if anything he does gets in the way of Hiccup’s plans, it won’t be done on purpose or in a mean way.

I mean, Stoick also just wants his son happy, safe and out of trouble. XD His relationship with Hiccup is just tense because he’s… well, stoic, stubborn and not very good at listening. Which Gobber is way better at, so he would be a lot more sympathetic and understanding of Hiccup’s situation, even IF (very big if here) he ultimately decided what Hiccup is trying to do is too dangerous and tried to stop him.

Maybe they could have a little conversation or several in the forge. I mean, they probably would. XD

Oh! Thank you for pointing out the thing about winder setting in soon! Omg Hiccup could use that to his advantage to help convince his dad and everyone else on Berk that the dragons don’t have to be a threat! Aaaaaaa, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Also, your ramblings seem perfectly coherent to me! I hope I myself make as much sense. XD

Hmmm, I should also start thinking on the dragon hunters’ n co’s side of things. Like, what happens with people like Alvin, Daggur and Vigo (aaaaand Johann, that jerk) in the meantime. And Heather too. XD

HTTYD Fan Fic Idea

A Time-Travel Not! Fix-It

Uh, basically (I don’t know the cause but SOMEHOW) post-RTTE but pre-Drago Hiccup wakes up 3-4 years in the past in his 15 year-old body about a week before the day he shot down Toothless.

Cue in panicked attempts to figure out how that even HAPPENED and Hiccup trying to find a way back to his own time, while also knowing the raid that caused him and Toothless to meet and changed his life is fast approaching and “what if I can’t find a way back to my own time, what if I’m stuck here and what if I never see Toothless again if I don’t shoot him down like last time, I don’t want to hurt him, what if something WORSE HAPPENS TO HIM IF I DONT–“

And then he shoots the bola, afraid of the result, regardless of which one it ends up being.

And he misses.

And now he’s stuck without Toothless and trying to figure out how to fight the Red Death without his bud but also without putting anyone else in unnecessary danger, meaning he can’t just go around training dragons because his dad will do what he did last time–

So he tries to be discreet in the beginning.

Eventually he gets caught by someone from the gang for sneaking into the dragon arena after training hours and actually walking OUT of where the DRAGONS are. (I’m like 75% sure I’m gonna go with Snotlout.)

One thing leads to another, Hiccup connects the gang with their dragons. But also they’re left wondering “Okay, but where’s your dragon? How do you know so much and yet you never fly on one of your own?”

Cue in Hiccup missing Toothless and struggling to give them even a vague explanation to the situation and them not really getting it and trying to get his spirits up and pushing him to find a new dragon partner.

I’m not sure what happens next but I want a random chance encounter between Toothless and Hiccup at some point after this. And Hiccup is just standing there, SO happy to see his best friend and missing him SO much because he know Toothless hasn’t the slightest idea who he is.

But then maybe dragon hunters come after Toothless and when Hiccup hears about it he runs to the rescue and jumps in to protect Toothless (maybe even gets a little hurt in the process, don’t we like drama in this house).

Roughly around that time he finally tells the gang that he’s technically from the future? Because “Hiccup, WHY are you so obsessed with that dragon???” I have a little snipped of him and Astrid talking some time after the reveal.

Toothless is very confused by Hiccup’s behaviour but eventually decides to trust him and when Hiccup ends up in danger instead, Toothless moves in to protect him.

And that’s how they manage to find their way to each other!

I have no idea if I want to keep going with this plot in a way that it just settles back into canon to some extent, or if I want to let Hiccup go back to his own time eventually.

I would have to figure out if I wanna make the time travel make sense first or not. XD

But if it DOES end up making sense, I can see it as like young Hiccup and older Hiccup having switched places in time until one of them finds the solution and reverses their places.

Uuuuuh… typing that out made a lot of ideas flood into my brain. Ideas that may require of me to move some plot points around.

Oh yeah, for extra angst, of course I considered the option for older Hiccup to have been post-Drago Hiccup. Because him interacting with Stoick in the past would be… yeah.

But then like, that would imply he knows about his mom and the Sanctuary, and I kinda didn’t want him to because he could just fly there, meet his mom and then the whole fic turns into him trying to help the dragons by trying to get his parents to just MEET.

… which would be an interesting fic that I wouldn’t mind reading either, but my focus here is different. XD

Also, in the case of a switch, I didn’t wanna put young Hiccup through the pain of finding out his dad is dead and he’s chief now.

…

So that was a long rant.

I guess I’m dropping this off here because as many fanfic ideas as I do have, I write them out impossibly slowly. So I just gave snippets of this thing. Not a single even half-way done chapter.

And it would be sad if this never sees the light of day, you know? I need more “Hiccup and Toothless would die for each other” centric fanfics in my life.