#they've already been cleaned they should just be wet

[victorluvsalice]

-->Aaand then I noticed that the dryer downstairs was busted. *sigh* Fortunately, Victor had just finished up in the greenhouse, so I had him Repairio it, then -- after putting the clothes inside back in the hamper (as they’d for some reason reverted back to “used” mid-drying-cycle -- what’s up with that?) -- upgrade it! Specifically, I had him give it a tungsten drum to stop it breaking so often. It was a long and arduous upgrade, but luckily Kelly was there to give him some absolutely adorable kitty love halfway through. :) Look at her clasping his hand with her paws, awww. . .

-->Meanwhile, I received a notice that another chick was ready to hatch in the chicken coop -- and I decided “you know what, I don’t think Alice has ever hatched a chick. Let’s let her do this one!” And so she did. :) It was just as cute as ever, though I did notice the chick got a bit lost in her hair during the “just hatched’ cuddle. XD Ah well, neither she nor the chick seemed to mind. This should fill up the chicken coop for the time being -- we’ll see how many we have of each type of chicken once they all grow up! (And who will need to be traded or sold. . .)

-->And then -- more pranks! Because Victor hadn’t had a chance to do any pranking yet, and I wanted everyone to at least complete the holiday enough to avoid the sad moodlet. Victor got Smiler with the hand buzzer -- Smiler promptly retaliated with a “noxious cloud” fart. XD I think Victor actually came off the worse in that interaction! Alice joined in to spread some preposterous rumors (”I heard that the next Sims 4 pack will definitely contain cars!”), and Victor got her with “what’s that spot?” XD If you can’t lightly prank the ones you love, then who can you lightly prank?

-->All that mischief made Victor rather hungry, though -- and as leftovers were starting to run a bit low in the fridge, I had him make some new food for him and Alice to enjoy! Specifically, he chopped up his new lettuce and some tomatoes to make some BLTs! A nice tasty sandwich that brought Victor up to Cooking skill level 5, w00. We love to see it!

[icarusredwings]

Team Leader.

A Worst wolverine's flashback fic.

Ft. Poolverine and a very confusing situationship. (COUGH scogan- mainly scogan COUGH)

~5k

Cw: Fightin n’ fuckin, internalized homophobia, prediscussed Cnc, Wrestling, Switching, Brat taming(?) Dominance play, Affair, pet play if you squint, rough feral floor sex, Handcuffs, cloth gags, degrading, no after care.. Logan just wanted a kiss.. angst

“Yeah.. Scott begged me to wear that suit..”

“Oh?” Wade asks, smirking as he leans over the table, watching as Logan takes another shot, honestly he's not sure why he just doesn't chug the bottle at this point. This was his second one for tonight, they were splurging after a particularly rough day, and of course, Wade was curious. And Logan was in the mood for reminiscing.

“What else did he do?”

“Well…there was this.. thing..”

___A very… very…long time ago___

Walking into the mansion, the team was pooped, costumes ripped, hair a mess, sweating to death, and ultimately…. defeated.

Cyclops, who had dust and dirt alike all over him, looking about as rugged as he'd ever get, clapped his hands.

“Alright gang, Good work out there.”

“Gang? What are we? Mystery incorporated?” Jubilee asks, who had cracked her sunglasses, lost an earring, Her jacket had tears in it and was already in a sassy mood from the failed mission.

He sighs. “Sure. If it makes you happy.”

“Does that make Jean Velma or Daphne?” Wolverine spoke up, covered in greasy sweat, his outfit practically in shambles. He had even lost a glove. Hank wouldn't like that. This was his 3rd one this month that has gone missing.

Cyclops pinched the bridge of his nose. “Logan, don't start..”

“Hey, I'm not the one calling us ‘gang’. Besides, that mission was shit, Scott and you know it.”

“I think that would make me Daphne.” Jean mumbled after some thought, Smiling a bit at the idea while Ororo groaned, heading up towards her room. She knew that they would start fighting any second and she was far too tired to deal with it. Oh well. Let the boys be boys. It made them happy to duke it out once in a while anyway.

“Jean, don't encourage them..” His posture was as if he just rolled his eyes. Not like anyone could see it though.

“I mean- We're both red heads, right? And if you're Fred, That makes me Daphne.” She explained, Logically of course, like always.

Logan smirked, putting a hand on his hip. “Yeah. You're pretty like her too, Red.”

Jean gave a small giggle, patting her boyfriend on the shoulder. “Alright. You two play nice.” She says “I'm going to check in with the Professor.”

He sighs, putting his hand on top of hers when patted. “Alright. Try not to make him too disappointed in us.”

“It's kind of hard to lie to a telepath but I'll do my best.” She agrees, starting to walk away.

Both men stared as she walked away. Scott gave a huff out of his nose, noticing. “Say, Jubes, does that make Logan the dog?” He asks as Logan growls. “I'm not a damn dog.”

Jubes blinked, looking back between the two and then to Jean down the hall. “I uh…I gotta shower before Hank clogs the drain with fur….Bye!” She says before running off, wanting to get a shower in before the boys got ugly.

Most times she would be up to watch a good fight, they've been at it for a week now, But today? She just wanted to be clean and maybe take a nap. One girl could only handle so many sparkles and fist fights.

“I'll take that as a yes. I'd say that you should shower too but wet dogs stink.” Scott muttered.

Grabbing his collar, Logan practically snarled in his face. “If you ever call me a dog again, Ill-”

“You'll what? Bite me? Last time I checked, dogs that bite get euthanized.” His hand came up to the sides of his head, as if threatening him.

Gritting his teeth, Logan let go, Crossing his arms.

“And besides if you haven't forgotten, Ascot boy, the guy got away. Who's fault is that? What kind of leader calls shots that get people killed?!”

“No one died, Logan! We're Xmen! We don't Kill people.” He said, making Logan point at him, the other hand in a fist.

“You lasered a whole building down! Dozens of people got injured!”

“Don't remind me! Do you think I like that on my conscious? We just need to get better. Train more.” Starting to walk away, he groans, shoulders dropping, saying this last line as if he's already thought about what he's done today and how he could have prevented it.

“What we need is a better leader.” Logan grumbled, causing him to turn around.

“What? Like you? Oh- Sure. Yeah. That'll go great. You can't lead this team Logan.” He says this as if it was a well known fact. As known as the ocean was blue like Wolverine's frozen glare.

“Yes I can! and I'd be a way better leader than you!” He snaps.

Eyeing him with what Logan could only assume was a glare, Scott scoffed. “Sure Scooby. You keep thinking that.” he goes to walk away again but Logan grabs him, turning him around as he holds him once again. Pulling him down to his level as he bared his teeth to him.

“Don't you ever call me that again. Who made you the boss anyway!? I can do what I want when I want. I don't remember signing a contract saying I'd obey a tightwad with his spandex up his ass!”

“The professor did! And if you have a problem with that you can take it up with him. Now get off of me!”

Shoving him away, He did let go, grunting some in displeasure seeing him actually walk away this time. So.. like a dog… he followed.

“Why don't you do it yourself.”

“What?”

“In the wild the strongest one is the leader and I know damn well that I'm bigger than you.”

Scott let out a laugh. “Ha! That's funny. Sure you're heavier than me but being a leader takes more than strength Logan. Even you should know that.”

“Are you saying you're stronger than me?”

“Maybe I am. Now move.”

Getting to his room, Scott turned, only for Logan to stand in front of it.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“You heard me! Don't play stupid now! Prove it you coward!” He tells him.

Scott grunts, trying to find a way around him but couldn't. “Come on, you're being childish.”

“Then prove it! If you're such a good leader then why are you wussing out? Hm?”

“Logan! I'm not playing with you. Some of us have important stuff to do, move!”

Maybe it was the fact Logan was so slippery from the sweat. Maybe it was the fact that half their outfits were gone, lost somewhere in the city rubble. Maybe it was the fact that Scott knew he wouldn't go away until this was settled but he had gone to move him aside, only to be practically kicked through the door frame.

Falling onto his carpet, he grunted, sitting up on his hands.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“I said prove it! And if I'm such a dog, It should be easy to show yer pack leader, right, Lasik?”

Scott glared, thinking for a minute. “Fine. But don't go crying to the Professor with your tail between your legs when I'm done with you.”

Kicking the door closed behind him, Logan smirked, unsheathing his claws. “Let's go, Pretty boy.”

So that's how we got here.

The majority of their costumes further ripped off, everything the two owned out in the open, wrestling to pin the other. Except it was more than that. The constant switching of positions and reluctant trade off of those in control.

Holding his hips back with an arm, and a hand around his throat, Logan kept the pace decent. He always did. Panting smirky huffs by his ear, Scott was trying to push him away, only for him to growl and nip his finger.

“Ouch-Logan! O-off!”

“I told you I'm stronger than you.”

“Stronger…Y-yes-” He started, Trying to keep standing up on his hands. The second he let his chest touch the floor he'd be done and he knew it. “But, This isn't the woods anymore pal!”

Attempting to pull the hand away from his neck, It only tightened, unsheathing those claws of his. “Going somewhere? You sure thought so huh?”

“Oh please! Like you'd have the balls-” a soft yip came from him as something hit his skin from behind. The blush once on his cheeks now spreads to his ears and throat like some kind of disease. One that unfortunately was incurable.

Smirking, The man scoffed. “You were saying?”

“Shut up.. god you're such a child. Let go!”

“Make me.” He growls, shifting his weight to pull him up, locking the arm around him and headlocked the other. Sure it was a bit tricky but seeing Scott squirm like this and willingly spread his knees wider made him feel successful in this battle of dominance.

Bouncing his hips up, A little giggle came from him as he reached an arm down, palming at him through the half pulled down briefs. “Where's those leadership skills now, bub? Hm?” Snarling against his skin was so fun, the temptation to sink his fangs into him, though he knew he wouldn't enjoy it, and explaining to Xavier why his star student had 4 massive holes in the side of his neck was NOT on his bucket list.

“Quit that. Don't you growl at me!” He says, trying to slip out of his grip but the more he tried the more Logan just held him tighter. God his hands were so well placed too, firmly keeping him in place to be bucked into like some kind of bitch.

Yeah well, Charles didn't raise no bitch. He raised a leader. Someone confident enough to understand the importance of the waiting game. How to deal with meat headed fools who gave their trust away far too easily when the entire world was in drought.

Closing his eyes, He tried to focus. Alright, think… Yeah that'll do. Leaning his head back onto his shoulder, letting out a few huffs, letting his arm sneak up behind his head. Gripping a fist full of hair, He let the other hand come to the arm that was holding him.

Leaning forward, he let himself fall a certain way that made his mouth fall open. “Logan..”

“Heh.. That wasn't so hard, was it?” He whispers, loosening his grip so he could put an arm forward on the floor. “See? I told you I was stronger than you.” He purrs with a sense of pride, becoming gentle with his touches, passionate even now that he thought Summers had submitted.

If we're being honest, he had no clue of this plan was going to work or not. Logan was right, he was stronger than him. That's always been one of his flaws. Despite how strong he truly was, how defined and well stretched his muscles were, Logan could throw him around like a raggedy ann doll, have his way with him however he wanted.

Scott swallowed, shaking his head. No. This was more than a test of strength and he knew so. He knew that Logan was trying to humiliate him. As easy as it would be to stay here and let him mate with him like a feral dog, he knew Logan would walk- No. Strut around the mansion all cocky and cause more problems amongst the team. It's just how he was.

Let him get away with it once? Shame on you. Because he wouldn't ever let you put him in his place a second time. He'd bring it up over and over again, brag and tease you constantly at every corner. That wouldn't be good for the team dynamic.

With a hiss through grit teeth, Scott quickly took hold of him with both hands, Throwing him over his shoulder, slamming his knees onto his forearms before he could try to scratch him.

“Yeah, You're right. That wasn't hard.” He smirks, turning back to look at the baffled face. Okay maybe trying to make a point while your ass was in front of his face wasn't the best plan but it worked didn't it?

Jumping up, he flipped him over, grabbing his arm as he sat on his back, his leg up on the other hand. Flexible fucker wasn't he?

“Now. Are you going to listen or do I have to prove it more?”

“Just because you got your leadership patch in boy scouts doesn't mea-” Gritting his teeth, He was jerked up onto a singular hand and his knees. You could tell that part of him had melted into such rough treatment, letting a couple of grunts escape as he closed his eyes, a small smirk on his face.

“What was that, short stack?” He asks, being sure to slam into him a way that makes his body jolt forward. “Losing your touch, Lo. Maybe stay off the syrup.” Logan turned to look at him with a snarl, glaring at the comment. Scott knew how he liked to sweeten his whiskey (and practically everything else) with Canada's delicacy.

“Oh, You're so fucking dead!”

Coming down the hall, Ororo was trying to comfort Jean about the mission. “It was hard on all of us, No? Just because you're a telepath doesn't mean you could have prevented it.” She smiles. “Yeah.. I hope the professor finds a foreseer soon. A little heads up would be nice.” The two giggle as Jean sighs. “I should go comfort Scott. He’s been really stressed out recently.” At first Ororo nodded, but getting closer to the door, This changed.

“Hey.. you know.. We should go get something from the city. Rouge took Jubilee so it would just be us sisters.” She grins, trying not to look so nervous about all of the grunts and muffled argument that was coming from the other side of the door.

Jean frowned. “Oh, They're fighting again… I really should-”

“Jeanie, Honey. Boys are just like that sometimes. You know how the lower species is. Always fighting like apes.” She put an arm around her shoulder, starting to lead her away with that innocent big sister's grin.

“Ha! Yeah I guess you're right. And it's like.. I'm not their mom right?”

“Exactly! You shouldn't have to keep them from fighting.”

“You're right. Gosh, Ro, you're such a good friend.”

Nodding, she glanced back at the door over her shoulder. “Oh, you have no idea.. Let's just hope they are finished by the time we return..”

The rug burn that Logan was getting on his cheek would be all worthwhile, especially like this? An arm put behind his back and a hand keeping his skull pressed against the carpet? He'd be a massive liar if he said this was new. Scott was always this way. You had to get him riled up just enough to take all that stress in his lower back and put it to good use, such as pounding Logan against the floor.

To smell his sweat, hear his mutters of passive agressive dirty talk, feel just how tight of a grip he had on his wrist, twisted just right so if he unsheathed those claws of his, they'd be going directly into his back.

Scott was clever like that. Such a teacher's pet. If he truly had wanted, Scott would be across the room by now, his face imprinted into the wall, but God did Logan love a quick witted idiot. He loved the tug of the fistful of hair.

He loved how confident he was afterwards, his chest puffed out and his mind clearer than ever. The private teasing he got from him in the halls, whispers of triumph and smart ass smirks directed at him whenever together. It made his stomach turn, his face heat and look away with his arms crossed to keep from his heart contained in the metal cage he's made for it.

“Not much to say now, Huh Logan? Not as tough as you thought?”

Letting out a little growl, it turned into a groan way quicker than he appreciated.

“What did I say about growling? God, you're so disobedient.”

A whine.

“Aw, don't tell me you've given up already? I thought wolves were stronger than that.”

“I-im not a wolf..”

“I don't know, Lo. You're sure acting like a pathetic pup.”

And there were those butterflies again, that shock that ran up his spine, smirking somewhat like an idiot as a snort of laughter escaped.

“There's a good boy. Maybe if you behaved like this more often we'd get along just fine.” He whispers, Sitting up as he lets go of his head and arm, now focusing on his hips.

All these thoughts were gradually getting beat out of him, replaced with newer, worse thoughts. He could feel himself going under in the sense that Logan could barely understand what was being said to him, hearing his voice in general was enough, even if the words slurred together into a quiet murmur of white noise that he enjoyed a little too much. He had to do something. Anything to get him out of his head before he wound up a drooling brain dead mess on the carpet.

Stretching his arms out, he let out a large groan as if signaling he was almost there, fully submitting under him.

“Shh. Someone might hear. Gotta get you a muzzle.” He whispers, Holding him by the front of his thighs.

Whining, He tries to push himself back more, one hand clawing the carpet, the other pulling a scrap of Scotts suit to his mouth, shoving it deep behind his canines, groaning into it as he breathed in the scent.

“Good thinking, Lo. You aren't as dumb of a mutt as I pinned you for.” For this, he was given an affectionate slap on the ass, a soft moan coming through the cloth.

Deeply breathing out as he pulls out just enough for the tip to still be in, quickly spitting on his hand but Logan was trying to crawl away. Before he could lather him with the saliva, Logan had tried to get up, making it only two steps away. Grabbing his leg, Scott jerks him back.

Rolling them over, Logan growls at him, about to unseath when an arm shoved his head against the side of the metal bed frame.

“Where do you think you're going? Huh? I already told you, you aren't tucking your tail out of this one. You wanna act like this? Fine. I'll tame you. Train you. You'll be my obedient pet one way or another.” Scott sneers.

Logan's eyes widen, frowning for a second as he realizes that somehow, out of nowhere, Scott had cuffed his hands, chain around the leg of the bed. Wait, when did he? How did he?

Before he could complain, His back arches slightly, putting his head back with a groan. “Fuck-”

“Watch your mouth, Mutt!” He says, shoving the cloth back in his mouth, getting bit. “Oh you bitc- fine! You wanted it, you're In for it now. Remember this when they ask why you're limping. You fell down the steps because you're a dumb mutt, got it?”

Logan nods, having trouble focusing, squirming and trying to tug at the cuffs.

“Don't even. They're vibranium. Like I said. Leaders have plans. Brute strength won't help you here, so what's your plan?”

Examining the cuffs, he notices a small J engraved into the bottom. It's now that Logan's dick twitched, his heart clenching as he smiled. Vibranium was so expensive.. and he bought them custom just for him. That must mean he cares about him, right?

“Why are you smiling? I'm about to win. Think, Logan. Remember the rules.” The rules were simple. Whoever came first loses. Practically anything else is on the table. Or.. in this case.. carpet.

The fingers that pressed into him, wet and warm, made him clench, earning him a stretch. “Quit moving. Lay down. Roll over. Stay.” He teases, slamming in again.

Logan's head goes back with a moan, drowned out by the cloth.

“Good booy, Lo. Now stay. And hush. Let your leader take care of it.” He says, smirking as he leans over him, noses an inch from each other. Logan wants to kiss him. Scratch that. He wants Scott to kiss him. He wants him to hold him and abuse his prostate like he was in a rut.

The pheromones ran through his nose as his chest heaved. He couldn't breathe, Light headed and dizzy. Or maybe it was how he looked at him when balls deep like this. Shit. He hates him. He hates him so goddamn much, and yet still he shakes with pleasure, jolting himself up off the floor while the man uses him like some kind of whore. Logan couldn't believe that all he had to do was rough him up a bit to get this kind of treatment.

He's spent so much time tripping over his lewd words in the hallway, dropping down on his knees in the shower, watching him bare chested and sweating in the danger room, Aching to be touched like this. And now he had it. This wasn't the first time, but the last time he had got too excited and came way too early.. something told him that this time Scott would stay after. He had so much energy, and putting it all out on him? It made Logan’s whines jump an octave.

Each thrust was rhythmic, the force, the length of pulling out, the angle. It was all planned. And this is why Scott was the leader. He was the guy with the plan.

“Stop tightening like that or I'll leave you here, chained up and desperate.” He grunts, swinging an arm under him to help him stay arched. With the extra support, He lets himself be limp in the upper body, biting his lip.

Leaning down, he nips at his abdomen, a soft chuckle coming up as Logan whimpers. “But you'd like that, huh? Tied up and sticky. Fucking sicko.”

He groans, each mean word causing a twitch. Putting his legs up to his chest, he spreads wide, Scott pushing up the buckle of his knee, the other holding his inner high, moaning lowly.

This is what Logan had wanted. He never wanted his hips to leave, he wanted- No. Needed Scott to use him to his own disgusting desires, fuck him every chance he got, every time he misbehaved, every time he sniffed even A hint of attitude in his voice.

The sloppier things got, the closer he got, Connecting their foreheads, eyes closed, Logan's grunts and huffs of air meeting with his grumbles of dominance and pants. It was all so warm. so beautiful. Perfect.

Spitting out the cloth, he went to say something but Scott only shoved it back in. “Shut up. Dog's can't talk.” He says, the way his stomach was tightening showing how close they both were. Whining, Logan spits out the tattered rag again, “Scooby can.”

“I thought you weren't scooby?” He smirks, a groan following, putting his face into Logan’s shoulder, bouncing a bit rougher.

Letting his mouth fall open, He moans, hands subconsciously jerking at the cuffs. This would be the time he'd scratch his back and clamp down around his waist and if it wasn't for Scott's body pushing his leg up still, he'd hold him so tight that he couldn't even think of leaving.

“Ooh fuck- fuck fuck fuck! Scott- s-Scotty fuck- please. Don't-”

“Are you finally going to behave? Huh? Mutt?”

Logan nods quickly, feeling his toes curl. “Y-yes.”

“Good boy, Logan.” He tells him the amount of rising warmth in his stomach running up his spine. Tears came to the corner of his eyes, gasping, keeping his head touching the ground as he jerks up, jolting a few times as sticky stings paint his chest, his stomach getting extra heat from the inside and out as he sits back up on his hands. “Shit-!

His claws pop, a bit of drool seeping out the corner of his lip, the stuffed feeling of artificial affection staying only a moment. Pulling away with a pop, Scott smirks, Smiling that shitty way whenever he gets his way. “God, Look at you.. Pathetic.. obedient..”

‘Mine' he hoped he'd say.

“All messy.. filthy mutt..”

Leaning up to unlock the cuffs, Logan is still buried, letting the metal sink back into his skin as he collapses, chest rising and falling against the floor, staring up at him with a pointy grin.

Bringing a hand to his cheek, Scott caresses him with a playful laugh. “You know.. you don't have to act out to get my attention. You could just.. ask.” He says softly.

Nuzzling into his hand, Logan smirks, Just now coming down from that beautiful cloud in the sky. “I'll remember that.” Taking hold of his arm, he pulls him closer, arms trying to wrap around his neck, a kiss to seal the deal on what so far has been a fun time for him.

“Woah- what are you doing?” He sits up, putting his hand on his shoulder as if pushing him away.

Logan frowns. “I was..” in An instant he felt shame fill the once warm spot in his stomach, twisting and coming up to his lungs. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think. Here was this beautiful man sitting infront of him, still fresh with the after glow, and yet… He didn't want to kiss him. Deep in his chest, he felt a pang.

“I… I thought..”

“Thought what?” The tone is condoncending, almost teasing. As if Scott was in disbelief of what he was hearing.

Leaning against the bedframe, naked and cold, Logan looks away. “...I thought were gonna kiss… Or.. somthin’..”

The laugh he coughs up is enough to make Logan want to puke, crossing his arms and closed his legs, pouting as he stares at the floor, the patch of cloth still there.

“You thought-? Logan. I'm getting married.”

It was a slap in the face. The ultimate humiliating moment.

“I'm engaged. And certainly not to you.”

“....”

“Look, What we have is fun but.. It ain't nothin.”

‘Nothin’...? Was it nothing in the danger room? Was it nothin in the shower? Nothin in the black bird?

Was it nothing on Jean's bed?

He tries to hide the gloss in his eyes as he glares at him.

And that's when I realized… I was the fool..

“...Im tellin'er…” He growls, tired of being the fool. Tired of sneaking around. Tired of betraying one of the first people to hold his head in their hands so gently.

“You wouldn't tell her anything.” He says, scoffing.

Logan had heard the foot steps, but didnt bother telling him. Why should he?

“Tell me what?- Scott?! What are you doing!?” Red stood there with a random mall dining hall cup in hand, some kinda fancy juice. She was mortified. Next to her, Ororo held a blue drink, matching Jean's red one. “Oh good goddess…”

“Jean!?” He cried, jumping up to run after the crying girl. “This is all your fault! I should have known. You just wanted to come between us so you can have her for yourself!” He scolds him, pointing at him like the master of a dog who was caught digging in the garbage.

That was the day.. I decided.. I'm done being his mutt.

“.....I just wanted a kiss..”

___The preset___

A tear drips into Logan’s shot as he stares at the table, glaze eyed and glossy with salty thick streams. “...The J was for Jean…”

Logan shakes his head softly. “I tried to be obedient.. I thought… I thought maybe he'd..”

He shifts his head, trying to hide it in his hand, face palming a few times. “I'm so stupid Wade… so stupid.. To think that.. that maybe..” The man sniffled, his crow feet getting tighter as he thought more about it.

“Oh, No, honey. He didn't even kiss you? Com’ere. I'll give you all the kisses. Promise.”

Shimmying himself into Logan's lap, he nuzzles against Logan's gray streaked chops, Grabbing his face and kissing him all over. Through the tears, Logan lets out a soft snort.

“Thanks, Wade..”

“Loagie?”

“Hm..”

“Do you want engraved Handcuffs? They probably won't be vibranium cause I told T'challa that Suri and I could be twins. Apparently she took great offense to that so now I'm banned from Wakanda.”

“You don't have too..”

“L or W?” He asks, in a serious tone, wrapping his arms around his neck. He was patient while Logan thought, checking his eyes for sincerity.

“But-”

“Or H? For Howlett?”

He smiles, a blush rising up his ears, and not cause the whiskey. “...Logan.”

“Oooh, whole name? Do you know how much engraved metal costs PER letter? Now who went and spoiled you, huh? Mr. Fancy feast cat food.” He scoffs, chuckling.

“You did.”

“Oh yeah… I did do that, didn't I? Anything for my, Peanut.”

The rest of the evening, Wade didn't let him go unkissed for A total of every 5 minutes, smooching him anywhere he could reach.

“I'll kiss ya, baby. Always.”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Monkey Business

Thanks for the Ask, Fetifiction

I heard you've got a crush on your gym buddy. You said his name was Amir, right? I know you like his personality or whatever, but he's not exactly your type. Is he? So, I sent you some experimental protein powder. It's called Ape Mode. Slip some of that in his drink...I think you'll like what happens...

"Oh, hey dude," Amir gives a friendly nod, "I almost thought you weren't coming. Did that professor hold class after the bell again?"

"Yup!" your voice shakes as you answer.

It's a lie. You just spent the last twenty minutes trying to spike his sports drink in the locker room. It was hard enough to find the damn thing, but you had to make sure it was definitely his. Luckily, his gym bag is bright yellow. It's pretty hard to miss, so the half empty bottle sitting next to it had to be his.

"He's a real douchebag," your friend complains, "Come on. I just started stretching."

Nervously, you sit beside Amir and try to keep up with his stretches. He asks you about your day and wonders if you need to vent about school. You just shake your head. Amir's caring personality is the best thing about him, but it's also making you feel really guilty for lying to him. Hopefully, that powder doesn't screw him up!

Amir ends the warmup and climbs to his feet. You watch as your best friend walks over to the locker room and pulls out his drink: the one you spiked. For a brief moment, you feel a flash of regret and almost shout out for him to stop, but it's already too late. The moment has passed. Amir is gulping down the entire contents of his bottle. All you can do is stare at him and wait.

"You good, dude?" Amir asks, snapping you out of your daze.

"Yup! Totally...um... let's workout!"

Amir claps you on the back and heads over to a treadmill. The guy is always doing cardio, leaving him thin and nimble, but you'd rather he looked a different way. You want to see him big and brawny like the man of your dreams. Hopefully, by the end of this workout, he will.

It's hard to act normal, but you swallow your anxiety and walk over to a weight machine. It's in the perfect spot to keep an eye on Amir. You want to know as soon as the changes start happening. A small part of you still doubts whether or not Ape Mode will actually work.

30 minutes later...

"Dude, I don't know what's happening! I was just running on the treadmill like normal, but..." he glances down at his swollen arms in disbelief, "well look at me!"

"I don't know either," you tell him with your most convincing voice, "but you look great!"

Amir takes another look down at his biceps. They've easily expanded to twice the size they used to be, but that's not the only thing that's changed. You've been staring at him on the treadmill for the last half hour. His whole body seemed to expand! His thighs thickened and his shoulders broadened. You think he even got taller! Not to mention the dense layer of stubble that's sprouted all over Amir's face.

He hasn't seemed to notice it all yet, but every part of his body seems to have shifted in some way! Seeing your friend transform into your wet dream is a lot more stressful than you imagined. You might be hiding a raging boner, but you're still worried about what will happen when Amir looks in a mirror. What if he doesn't like the new him? You wonder for a second if you should just come clean and tell him about the powder.

Amir flexes his arm, staring at his bulging bicep with a worried look, "I don't know, dude. Should I be worried?"

You look into your friend's vulnerable eyes, "Nope! Let's just get back to our workout."

Amir nods and lowers his tense shoulders. He trusts your judgement and brushes off his concerns. You watch with a mixture of guilt and excitement as Amir saunters back to the treadmill. His ass has even filled out, too!

"Dude!" a deep voice moans behind you.

"Woah!" your jaw drops at the site of Amir. His voice has lowered several octaves to the point where you couldn't even recognize it. His appearance is just as drastically different. The big hairy man standing before you looks only vaguely like the friend you know and love.

"What, is it bad? I don't feel good..." Amir groans, "Buh-UUuurrrp!” A low gutteral belch voices out of his stomach.

You don't know how to react. His transformation is progressing wildly, and you're almost too turned on to comfort him!

"I was just running, but my steps just kept feeling heavier, and I was feeling itchy all over, and my shirt is pinching me, and..." he trails off as he scratches his gut absent-mindedly.

It looks like he's gained sixty pounds, so it's no wonder that his shirt is feeling tight! Some of that weight isnt muscle, either. Amir has a bit of a gut, now, and with his shirt soaked in sweat, you can see how hairy his new chest is. His entire body seems to be sprouting fur like he's some kind of animal!

"Don't worry about it," you say, grabbing Amir's hand in an effort to calm him down. You might as well commit to his transformation at this point! It's obviously working!

"But, I'm so fat and hairy," he grunts slowly, "And I can't move ten inches without sweating like a pig!" his stomach growls before his bubbling up his chest, "Buur…brrruUuUUUP!”

"Hey these changes are normal, big guy," you pat him on his big meaty back, "I like the new Amir."

Amir frowns and rips his hand away from yours. Before you know it, he's stomping back over to the treadmill with heavy steps that shake the floor. He seems to have a little less patience than he used to. Maybe he's just frustrated by all the changes?

"Amir can we go now?" you ask for the third time in a row, "You've been staring at yourself in that mirror for an hour now!"

He doesn't seem to hear you. Amir has packed on so much fat, muscle, and hair that he looks completely unrecognizable. He almost seems more like he's an animal than your old friend.

He's been watching the final touches of his transformation take place in his new form, only pausing to occasionally scratch his ass or sniff his pits. Of course, the entire gym is giving him angry looks. A cloud of strong BO is wafting off of him, and it doesn't help that he keeps burping and farting loud enough for everyone to hear. Amir seems totally oblivious to how uncomfortable he's making everyone, so you're left to feel all the social awkwardness.

"Amir, come on," you tenderly grab his hairy forearm.

"GrrrUH!" Amir growls and rips his arm away again.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. You wanted Amir to look like a hairy beast, not act like one! How the hell are you supposed to get him out of here, let alone fall in love with you? He's acting like a big stupid caveman!

Feeling defeated, you stumble over to the locker room. If your going to leave, you at least want something to cover the tent in your shorts. Amir's bright yellow backpack would never fit on his massive frame anymore. He probably couldn't even remember how to put it on. With a sigh, you pick the thing up hold it close to your waist.

"MmnNanna?" a curious grunt comes as you reenter the gym. Amir, the huge hairy beast is staring at the yellow backpack with hungry eyes. "Nanna," he growls more definitively.

"You want a banana?" you ask gingerly.

"Mmmmngh!" he nods emphatically, licking his lips.

This is yellow backpack must be your ticket to controlling him! "Follow me," you smile, finally understanding how this beast of a man.

With lumbering steps, Amir stumbles behind you. It's a good thing he's hot, because he's lost all the intelligence he'd had before. All you had to do was say the word banana and now he's following you out to the car, drooling the entire way. You can't help but chuckle at your gigantic friend following behind you like a big dumb animal.

In the car, you toss the yellow bag as far back as you can. All three hundred pounds of Amir jumps inside and you slam the door shut behind him. Now you just have to get the guy home with him getting too angry.

"BuuuUughHnnannNnaAH!" he bellows, beating his chest with wild fury.

"Ok, ok! I'll go buy a damn banana."

"Nnngh!" Amir clenches your wrist before you can get out of the car. "...nanna!" he grunts, staring at your crotch like it's his first meal in weeks.

"Oh," you gasp. You didn't know he meant that banana. Amir's transformation might not have been what you expected, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying your new friend. This is going to be an interesting car ride...

[athenaswrath]

Until I Found You - Chapter 2

Quinn Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 851

Chapter 1 >Chapter 2< Chapter 3 Chapter 4

When you arrived at the lake house Quinn wasn't there yet, so they decided he was the one crashing on the couch since there were only three rooms and the rest of you were going to sleep in pairs, so it was Trevor and Jamie, Jack and Luke and you with Holtz

While they played football outside, you decided to take a shower to calm your nerves, knowing that I was going to be with them off work for months felt so different, plus Quinn is going to be here any minute, you've heard a lot about him and while Luke and Jack have said that he's so protective over them and he worries a lot they've said that he's quite grumpy, something Nico, Trevor and Cole have confirmed. So you wanted to make a good impression and hopefully your awkwardness was going to allow it just this one time...

"Fuck" you said after you knocked into someone making them spill their beer all over them. Fan-fucking-tastic, there goes your opportunity to get on the good side of the oldest Hughes. "I'm so incredibly sorry, really let me... I can wash your clothes, and grab another beer for you, I wasn't really looking..."

"It's okay, I was going to take a shower now anyways, is nice to meet you" and right after he said that he left and closed the door of the room you just left. To say you were panicking was an understandment the least thing you wanted to do was to make things awkward, he was probably going to complain about you to Jack and Luke, I mean you were the only girl and they were already going to hold some things back because of that...

you don't know how long you've been standing on the corridor when Holtzy grabbed your face "Belle you okay? did you see Huggy?"

"yes... yeah he's.. he said he was going to take a shower" I said pointing at the door while looking down at the wet floor, he followed my sight and I saw understandment flashing on his face "go help the boys downstairs before they set the house on fire I'll clean this... nope, I'll do it" he said before I could interrupt him

When I entered the kitchen the boys were emptying the fridge (Ellen so kindly stored beforehand) trying to find something to defrost. So I sent them to set the table while I prepared something, Jamie being his usual self (a sweetheart that is) came to help me, we've only met a couple of times and for a very short time but he was so easy to get along with. This was the first time he tagged along too, only cause him and Trevor missed each other with Jamie being on the Flyers now. Almost an hour later we took everything to the table where four giant whiny babies were waiting for the food.

We were starting to eat when I heard Quinn running downstairs "Too late, food's gone Huggy Bear" Jack said when he came into view, "This is y/n by the way be nice, I actually like her"

"Wow didn't know you were capable of liking other than yourself" Trevor told him but Jack answered "oh please as if you were any better, you can't even act as if you cared for others" and obviously Trevor's sassiness attacked "because I don't" Jamie, Holtzy and I just looked at each other and smiled.

"Since you won the cup you're less talkative, are you too much for us now Cap?" Trevor told the oldest Hughes while smirking, he knew what he was doing, Jack always tells me that Zegras' favorite pastime is getting on Quinn's nerves "I've always been too much for you Zegras but I'm glad you finally accept it".

They kept throwing snarky comments and while I was glad Quinn didn't mention anything about our encounter, I was still worried that he was upset, so while everyone was getting ready to go to bed, I went downstairs to find Quinn.

"Hey" I said softly "you should go upstairs and sleep there, I mean is your room after all. Holtzy is there but I'm sure Jack or Lu wouldn't mind switching" when he didn't answer I looked at him and he had a small frown while looking intensely at me.

You were caught off guard by the momentary awkwardness that seemed to radiate from him, not used to seeing a Hughes in any other way than the confident and playful boys.

"Thank you, but it's okay if you sleep there. And... I'm sorry, I... What happened earlier was my fault, so you don't have to blame yourself for it, it is nice to finally meet the girl which my brothers feel so close to" he gave me a small smile and headed upstairs where Luke was yelling for him.

With my heart beating slightly faster than usual (which was fast enough already) I slept that night besides a snuggling Holtz, feeling hopeful about having a good time with everyone and a non-uncomfortable interaction with Quinn.

_________________________________________

Note: didn't love this chapter but now that Quinny finally met the reader I'll have more inspiration. Also there's going to be dual POV in the next chapters.

If you have suggestions or you see a mistake (english is not my main language) please let me know!

[pikapitou]

⛈️ for buddie!!! wee <3

I got... a little carried away. enjoy 1k of thunderstorms and - since it's october - coming back wrong yayyy

As a kid, Eddie loved thunderstorms. The heavy layer of ozone, dark clouds rolling in the distance, the way the wind picked up and made him feel like something stagnant inside of him was finally moving. He used to sit on the front step out of the rain and count the seconds; always wishing it was closer, right on top of him.

That's probably why what happened happened.

The thunder rumbles so loud Eddie almost misses the pounding on the door. It's the first thunderstorm since—well, but for some reason he's still surprised to find Buck on his doorstep, not-yet drenched. 

"Hey—" Eddie starts, but Buck steps right across the threshold and crashes into him hard enough to send them both stumbling back, Eddie's hand flying out to catch their balance against the wall. Buck is a long line of cool heat against him, his wet clothes soaking into Eddie's sleep-shirt as he pants in huge hot breaths against Eddie's neck. Crisis response is muscle memory; Eddie gets his bearings right away and runs a hand down Buck's shivering back, firm but gentle pressure.

"Hey," he says again, quieter. "I'm here. What's going on?" When he tries to shift back to get a look at him, Buck squeezes him hard enough for it to hurt. 

"Eddie," he whines into Eddie's shoulder, the most wounded sound Eddie's ever heard, wiping all the thoughts clean from his head other than Jesus fucking Christ.

Since what happened, Buck's been—weird isn't the right word. Off? Sometimes over-overexcited, sometimes drawing into himself in a way he never has before. Eddie can recognise it as him trying to be a version of himself that atrophied over the course of three minutes and seventeen seconds, and maybe this is what Buck's been hiding, this raw, aching nerve desperate for—something. 

"Alright," Eddie says. "Alright." He shifts so he can kick the front door closed, the downpour muffling into white noise. He takes a step backwards, careful to keep up contact as he leads them to the couch. Buck follows easier than he expected, or maybe just easy. 

He settles down and Buck immediately clambers into his lap, which—they've never done that before. But they're not—this isn't—that's not what's happening here. It's the first thunderstorm, of course Buck is freaking out. 

"Eddie, I—" Buck starts, still tucked into Eddie's neck, his fingers digging into Eddie's arms. He's actually talking, which is good. "I think something's really wrong," his voice shakes, pitching with fear. Outside another crack of thunder. 

"What is it?" Eddie asks gently, and Buck just shakes his head and shivers against him. "I can help you, alright? Just," he smooths a hand through Buck's curls, tugging so gently, "Can you look at me?"

For all his protests earlier Buck listens right away, pulling back so their eyes meet. Buck's eyes are, fuck, have they always been this blue? Even in the dark Eddie can see the colour. Buck is staring at him like—Eddie can't even describe it. A tingle goes up his spine, like getting shocked from faulty wiring. 

Eddie swallows that down, keeps his voice steady, "What do you need—" 

And Buck is kissing him. Desperate, immediately intense, wet in a way that makes Eddie forget where they are and what led up to this and why he should probably, definitely stop this. He makes a sound in pure surprise and Buck takes advantage, licking into Eddie's mouth and across his tongue and the points of his teeth; distantly Eddie is aware he can taste blood. 

"Buck—" he manages, but Buck shuts him up, kissing him like mouth-to-mouth, like CPR, like he can't breathe air that didn't go through Eddie's lungs first. He's gasping in a way that makes Eddie worried, although Eddie is plenty fucking worried already. Eddie pulls Buck back rougher this time, ignoring the heart-wrenching pang when Buck whimpers pitifully and tries to grab for him again. He takes that hand and plasters it over his chest instead, taking a deliberate, slow breath despite his own panting. "Breathe, Buck." 

Buck takes a huge, heaving inhale and—stops. Just like that, staring at his palm on Eddie's chest. He shifts his fingers to the left until they're splayed over Eddie's racing heart. Buck's next exhale takes all the desperation out of his expression, leaving behind only this air of—awe. Like he's entranced. That's... good, Eddie tries to tell himself, though he can't really believe it. He's calm. At least he's calm.

Then Buck looks up at him, and his eyes are so intense that the feeling comes back, tingling in all of Eddie's nerves as he fights not to look away. "You restarted my heart," Buck says breathlessly, "You brought me back."

Eddie's heart clenches, and Buck's fingers twitch in his shirt like he felt it. Eddie doesn't—think about that. The wet slide of his hands across Buck's still chest, the rain beating down his back, the storm right over top of him as Eddie prayed without praying—Please. Please. Please. Oh, God. Please.

He exhales slowly, and Buck sways forward before he catches himself, blinking hard. 

"Yeah," Eddie says. "I did." 

Desperation lights in Buck's eyes again, gleaming with sudden tears, his words all stumbling together as he grabs at Eddie with shaking hands—"So—so—so that means you want me, right? 'Cause if you didn't, you would've—but you didn't, so you have to—you have to want me, Eddie, 'cause I can't even, Eddie, I can't even fucking breathe without you anymore—"

Lightning flashes through the windows, bright and blinding; one frozen second where Eddie thinks, oh, something is definitely wrong.

Then thunder crashes as he pulls Buck back into a kiss. 

[omo-goose]

imagine character A and B have been out shopping for a while, they've stopped a few times to sample some food truck takeout and various smoothie vendors. It was some kind of event, but neither of them could remember what right now, they were too busy having fun in each other's company.

Of course, after quite some time, B needed to use the restroom. A, knowing their partner has a small bladder, had already started ushering them toward the nearest bathroom they'd spotted while A had been distracted.

Unfortunately, the line was pretty long, so A tried scanning the area again for any restroom signs they may have missed initially.

Again, not much luck.

B whined softly, grabbing onto A's arm and looking up at them desperately. "a A can we just leave now I um.. I don't want to..." they trailed off, biting their lip as a wave of urgency hit their bladder like a wave cascading down onto the shore.

A looked at how long the line was currently, then glanced to the direction of the parking lot. It was a fair distance away, and if they got stuck in traffic then...

"look, the line's moving a bit quicker now.. I'm not sure you'll make it to the car.." A patted B's head comfortingly

B sighed in frustration, they knew they should have gone earlier and now they were REALLY feeling the extra large iced tea they'd had, and it felt like a steadily filling glass nearing it's brim alarmingly fast

"just hang in there hun, you got this" A tried to sound encouraging, but they felt so bad knowing their partner was moments away from embarrassment

but suddenly, they were at the front of the line before they knew it

it seemed that the last few people in front of them had gone rather quickly

either that or they too felt bad for poor B

A hurried them into the restroom and made sure they made it in time

although B's underwear was a little damp, they were spared much worse stains

afterwards A suggested they head home anyway, wanting to avoid another close call today, which B agreed to since they were starting to feel a little tired anyways

since it was such a long drive home, B had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, only to be awoken a while later to the sound of an abrupt honk

they looked over and saw A gripping the steering wheel tight, face pale

they groggily asked what happened before noticing the stretching line of cars in front of them

"oh no! A is upset they got scared by the car horn" B thought

that was until they noticed A's legs pressed as close together as they could be, and the small but very clear wet patch on the front of their jeans

"oh... you forgot to go before we left didn't you sweetie?" B cooed sympatheticly

"y yeah sorry I guess.. f fuck-" A was cut off by a very intense wave of urgency, followed by a soft hiss as they lost control

the wet patch grew and trickled down onto the seat as A tried helplessly to stop it

B watched in wide eyed fascination as their partner wet themself in the driver's seat of their car, they felt their face heat up, feeling guilty their first instinct wasn't to help

what could B do though? it wasn't as though they had any spare bottles with them right?

did they?

B looked around, even though it was much too late to save the seat cover or A's pants, and just as they thought, there wasn't even any bottles within reach anyway

"um... feel better?" B asked timidly

"uh y yeah.." A admitted, blushing

they hadn't realized how long they had been holding, and was slightly more embarrassed by the fact they were sure they were still hoping a little when B asked that

after a long drive home, B helped A get nice and cleaned up, drawing them up a warm bath and playing their favorite music, then afterwards they cuddled up in bed snuggled up and had sweet dreams

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (3)

Kagome groans as she stretches. Her chest hurts so dang much. It's like someone put a boulder on her.

Wait.

She sits up, pushing the cover off her. Koushi isn't in his bassinet. Did he sleep longer? She touches her breasts and winces. Yeah, he definitely slept past his normal feeding time. Still, it's not like him not want to nurse almost immediately after waking. Kagome slides out of the bed and pads across the room and down the hall toward the smell of breakfast.

"Mornin'," Satoru greets, looking over his shoulder at her. Koushi floats next to him and Kagome blinks at the sight.

This feels like a dream. When Mom hears Koushi is floating, she's going to have a cow. Gramps will probably shout something about needing sutras or something. And Sota, he'll think it is the greatest thing in the world.

Satoru's eyes widen. "Kagome," he says, voice strained. His tongue darts out and his cheeks are rosy.

What's with him?

Wait a minute. Her shirt is wet. Oh crap! She's ruining Satoru's shirt, and she can tell by the feel of it that it's some ridiculously overpriced brand. He probably only has a couple of nice shirts and she's ruining it.

"I'm sorry!" she blurts out, crossing the room to take Koushi. "I can have this dry cleaned."

"It's fine." Satoru turns the stove off and grips the counter. He exhales as though he is trying to gather his thoughts, or maybe count to ten.

Kagome frowns. It doesn't seem like it's fine with him. Great. Not even 24 hours and they're already running into problems. She huffs silently and sits down at the small table with Koushi. The shirt is ruined. Not much she can do about that, so she may as well feed Koushi and then deal with the shirt problem later.

"Koushi must have wanted to see you more than he wanted milk," she says, trying to break up the tense atmosphere. Perhaps she and Koushi should go after he gets done eating. They've clearly overstayed their welcome.

"I don't mind," Satoru says, setting the plate of pancakes and eggs in front of her. "I wasn't able to teleport until I was a teen. It's impressive that he's teleporting before he can even crawl…he can't crawl, right?"

Kagome shakes her head. "No. Last night was the first time he's teleported." She glances down at Koushi and then back at Satoru. "We'll get going after he's done."

"What? Why?" Satoru grabs his plate of food and sits down next to her. "Is this because of the shirt? I don't care about the shirt."

"You seemed pretty upset about it and I don't want to crowd—"

"Kagome," Satoru stresses, "you can ruin every single shirt I have. I wasn't." He swallows. "I wasn't upset because you got milk on the shirt. I'm trying to keep it together here when I really just want to bend you over the counter."

Her face warms.

Oh.

"Satoru…" Kagome inhales. "I think you are just feeling a lot of emotions right now. Last night was a lot. And—"

"Do you think I'm not attracted to you?"

"Well…I'm not as small as I was the last time we saw each other."

He barks out a laugh. "Kagome, that night is the only thing that got me through the end of last year and this year. But you're right, I am feeling a lot right now and I'm fighting with myself because seeing you and Koushi here, seeing you in my bed, coming home to you early this morning, yeah, it's messing with me because I like it too much." He lets out a breath. "There's a million things I should be worried about right now. Last night would have been a bloodbath if you hadn't shown up and freed me. Even so, the only thing I'm worried about right now is if you and Koushi are good. And if you think a five-bedroom apartment in the city is too much."

Five-bedroom apartment? Kagome wets her lips. She isn't sure what to respond to first. Satoru leans over and cuts her pancakes. He holds it out for her to take a bite. She maintains eye contact as she eats.

Oh. It's surprisingly good. She didn't know he could cook.

"Here," he holds out his hands. "If he's done, I can hold him so you can eat."

Kagome sits Koushi up and pats his back. He burps and then giggles. She hands Koushi over and her stomach tightens.

Between his words and how he is taking to fatherhood like a fish to water, Kagome gives herself a mental shake.

A five-bedroom apartment, huh?

No. No. No. What is she thinking? A five-bed room apartment? Why is she even entertaining that? Satoru isn't serious. Yeah, he's in a one-bedroom apartment, but it's not like she'll always be here when he has Koushi.

Her heart pangs.

Okay. Who is she kidding? She'll always want to be where Koushi is. It's hard enough leaving him with her mom sometimes when she needs to run a quick errand.

"Are you working?" He asks, making funny faces at Koushi, who laughs and slaps him.

Kagome nearly drops her fork.

The handprint is small, but the force behind it was not. Satoru slowly moves his face back to face Koushi, who giggles some more and swats at him. Satoru holds Koushi a little further away from his face.

"Umm…no, I'm not working at the moment. Is your face okay?" That looks and sounds like it hurts. Koushi is normally an easygoing baby. He rarely cries or hits. What is going on?

"I'm fine," he says. "It'll heal up…it's not healing."

"That slap had some purification to it. I'm not surprised." Kagome bites her lip. Satoru has negative energy, just like Koushi does. Well, everyone has some kind of negative energy to them, but the sheer amount that Satoru has is…overwhelming.

Satoru's eyes bounce between Koushi and her as though he can't figure out who to focus on. "Is that the energy you have?"

"Mm-hmm. I thought it was obvious since I live on a shrine."

"I didn't sense it that night."

"I usually keep it suppressed out of habit."

"Just how strong are you?"

Kagome shrugs as she takes a bite of eggs. "How do you usually measure strength?"

"Sparring." He hums. "But if I sparred with you, I'd lose."

She squints. How does he know he'd lose? "You've never fought me. How do you know that?"

"Easy. You pinning me. Me pinning you. Either way, I'd end up throwing the match."

Kagome snorts. "It's far too early for your mind to be in the gutter." She grabs their empty plates and silverware and cleans them in the sink. "Koushi and I should still go back to the shrine today. Not like I packed any extra clothes for myself." And she still needs to go back to Ayumi's and get the diaper bag.

"While you're there, do you mind ordering stuff for here?"

"What kind of stuff?" She turns and crosses her arms as she leans back against the counter.

"Stuff for Koushi and you, so you don't have to lug around a bassinet or other stuff for him." He pulls out his phone and texts something one-handed while holding Koushi. The handprint is still on his face, but it's not as bright. "I'd love to show him off some time to my students, but we should probably tell the clan first."

"Students?" Her eyebrows shoot up. Satoru is a teacher? Her eyebrows pinch together. How is he affording this place on a teacher's salary? He did say something about being a clan leader, too. She runs a hand down her face. "You're a teacher and a leader of a clan?"

"Yep," he pops the p. "Jujutsu sorcerers are hard to come by and I don't care too much for how the…older generation likes to gatekeep things, so I opted to be a teacher in addition to working as a sorcerer to help build up the next generation. Encourage them to think for themselves. Be greedier. Don't let traditions hold them back."

Satoru makes a fist. Koushi raises his own and mimics his dad. Kagome sighs and shakes her head. So, this is the kind of man she has a child with.

"So, clan leader," she says, reclaiming her seat next to him. "Does that mean Koushi's next in line?"

He stares at her and then flushes. "Actually, yeah. He has the six eyes, and he has limitless, which automatically makes him next in line. That's the difference between the Gojo clan and the other clans. We don't fight over who will lead. If you have the prized family technique, then it's a given."

She hums. Satoru wants her to pick out stuff for here too. Right now, she's been relying on the income she gets from the government for having a child so she can stay home with Koushi. Asking him feels wrong even though it is stuff for his apartment. But what if this apartment is just a subsidy or something that the school or whoever his true employer is?

Satoru leans forward and pokes her forehead. "What are you thinking about so intently?"

"Budgets." She gives a half shrug. "You want stuff here which makes sense, so I was thinking of the numbers."

"There is no budget." He pulls back and pulls out his wallet. "Take this." Satoru slides a black card her way. "Just order whatever online that you want. Even if you don't think it's a need."

Kagome blinks at the black card. Her brain is refusing to compute.

"Clan leader aside, I make more than you can fathom from being a special grade. There are only three special grades alive. Only four in modern times. But there are far more special grade curses out there and not enough sorcerers that can handle them."

Kagome picks up the black card. "Still…should you really be trusting me with this? What if I decide to take myself out for a spa day?"

"Do you need me to carve out time to watch Koushi?"

She squints, but his attention is already back to his phone. "I can't be away from him that long. Not unless I pump."

"Pump?" He looks up.

Kagome motions with her hands. "A breast pump." Speaking of milk, she needs to change out of this top. The milk has dried, and she feels sticky and gross now. Satoru stares at her hands, no….. he's looking at her breasts.

"Do you know what it means to take it slow?" she asks with a sigh.

"Not really. Never been in a relationship."

Kagome opens her mouth and then closes it. They aren't in a relationship, and she should correct his line of thinking, but…if he keeps looking at her like that, she's going to forget why she wants to ease into things to begin with.

"We aren't together," she points out. "We're co-parenting."

"That's still a relationship." He smiles. "Besides, Koushi isn't a normal child. How would you explain him teleporting to a normie?"

She sighs. Being in a relationship is the last thing on her mind. "I told you, Koushi didn't start doing that until last night when he felt you. It's clearly you that's making him want to teleport."

Satoru hums and then slides his phone across the table toward her. "What do you think of this place? The clan house is far out in the middle of nowhere, and you probably want to be close to the city. To your family, right?"

Kagome blinks and blinks again. "This is 3.2 billion yen." She slides the phone back, but he slides right back to her. "Satoru, that's too much."

"You didn't even look at the rooms," he complains. Koushi looks up and grabs his face and pulls, hard. Satoru winces.

Kagome frowns, but picks up the phone and scrolls through the pictures. It is nice. Better than nice. And it is close to the shrine.

But.

3.2 billion yen. That's staggering!

"What would you do with five bedrooms? It would just be you and Koushi, eventually."

"Huh? You'd be there." He peels back Koushi's grip on his face and makes another silly face at him.

"I mean in the future. When he's much older."

"You'd be there, I'm sure of it."

He's persistent, she'll give him that. "Okay, Satoru," she sighs. "What would you do with the other two rooms?"

"Three." He lifts Koushi up and makes airplane noises. "You wanted to space them out, right? Better to get the space now than later."

Kagome leans forward and places her hands on his legs. "Do I look like a game to you?"

He holds Koushi high in the air and brushes his nose against hers. "If you were, I'd play you all night."

Kagome flushes and pulls back. She swallows. He didn't even come on this thick when he hit on her at the bar. "I need to see it first. In person."

"Okay. Would you be able to set that up for tomorrow or later in the week?" He brings Koushi back down and cradles him. "Unfortunately, I need to get going for work, but I can drop you two off at the shrine." He blows out a breath. "Don't take this the wrong way. Swear I'm not trying to control ya, but I need you to keep a low profile. It's not known yet that I know. That the clan knows, so I don't want anyone getting any grand ideas."

"When are we meeting the clan?" She drums her nails on the table. Lying low is a pain, but Koushi's safety is more important to her.

"Tonight, if you two are up for it." Satoru stands and then bends, so he's closer to her. Kagome cranes her neck up and quirks a brow. Satoru smiles cheekily and then brushes his lips against hers. "Just remember, you're mine." He winks.

Kagome huffs, but her cheeks are on fire. "I-I'm going to shower." She hurries out of there and away from the sound of his laughter.

Satoru is just horny. He doesn't actually want her. Kagome turns on the shower and undresses. She just needs to hold fast until he moves on and realizes that a relationship between them isn't really what he wants.

They're just co-parents. Nothing more.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy more baby Koushi because that How to Tame chapter ain't looking so nice. RIP someone(s) lolol.

I think Ryu ( legit forgot about Satoru's uncle) will probably make an appearance because he's a dick. Leaning towards not having Syouma in this fic since now I just ship him with Mama H lol.

Yo. I started watching My Little Pony with the kiddo. Why didn't anyone tell me these ponies were wild? Swear first season is like yayy friendship and the next season is like ughhh friendship. I thought my stories had drama lol.

Have a wonderful week! Sending great vibes through the screen. Get plenty of rest. Get up and stretch throughout the week. Drink your water. And don't let anyone make you feel like you're less than.

[devilscreekballad]

Major spoilers for the beginning of Lynwood's path in ch7 (with code)

(warnings: depression, substance abuse)

Miserable. Pathetic and utterly miserable.

How often have you promised how many good people -friends and family alike- that you'd take care of yourself? That you would treat your physical and mental wellbeing with the respect and care it deserves and requires?

Yet here you are, once again, startling awake at the crack of dawn, not entirely certain that you've even actually [i]slept[/i].

Not 'if', not 'whether or not', just 'that' you've slept. Oh sure, here you are, the edges of a book painfully imprinted into your cheeks, your clothes rumbled and your vision blurred with tears as your body desperately attempts to wet your stingingly dry eyes.

Miserable.

You yawn, breath stale and soiled with last nights means to throw a much needed wrench into the rapidly turning gears of your brain. And did it do you any good? Of course not? It never does, but you just don't learn. Always telling yourself that this time it won't mess you up like this, that this time you'll be fine, get your work done and then get a proper rest.

Pathetic.

You groan and rub your throbbing face, trying to rub the pain out before you push yourself up and stagger over to the small wash basin by the window, splashing cold water into your face and gazing blearily at your reflection. Your siblings at home would probably not hesitate to force you into bed if they'd knew you are handling yourself like this.

Once again.

With a long and exhausted sigh, you draw a breath and submerge your face in the icy water, coming back up with a spluttering gasp, wide awake, dissipating the fog crawling over your brain. There is so much to do. The room is, as usual, a mess, but at least everything you wanted to pack to send back home has been packed. Which leaves you with a room to clean, and a bottle of morphine refill.

Once again you reckon that Therese would never forgive you if she'd knew about it, and Vincent might go as far as to kick you out of his house for good.

But they'd have to understand: With all these things on your mind, all these unsolved mysteries and undiscovered secrets it's a necessity to get [i]some[/i] rest. It and opium. But latter requires you to interrupt your investigations, which rarely is a feasible option to begin with, and it's certainly not one right now.

You dry your face and push yourself away from the table, sitting down on the bed for a moment to sort your thoughts.

It'll be a long day again.

At least yesterday's talk with @{(salomesveil_hint) Mulligan and ${name}| Mulligan} had been fruitful, even though you feel you revealed a little too much without getting an equal amount in return. @{(tell_lynbright) Then again, Mulligan and ${name} have not been as antagonistic towards you as they could have been, and they've given you quite an unexpected puzzle piece in the form of Mr. Brightwell's presence at the manor the night his son died. Something you'll have to look into as soon as this case allows it| While you must admit that Mulligan and ${name} have not been as antagonistic towards you as they could have been, they are still a bunch of wanted criminals}. And still there's the mystery of what exactly Blayne tasked them with.

It is quite an array of questions left open, and you are glad you already arranged to speak to ${name} again, and maybe Mulligan once more, by extension.

But first you need to clean the room, that should at least be doable, even for you. *page_break The disadvantage of being awake and remotely sober is that your brain is now racing with even more questions. Especially everything concerning this Miss Beauchêne. She might be a very pleasant person, at least that's the impression you got, but some things just don't add up. Robert Brightwell never got engaged, to your knowledge. Now, you don't know yet what Miss Beauchêne's social status is, but be it what it may be, she's Black. That alone would have been enough for the press to dig its teeth into that story most viciously.

And then the whole sordid affair about Merryborne. Someone in this whole mess is lying, but, much to your dismay, you can't say who that might @{(tell_lynbright) be. You refrain from saying it's Mr. Brightwell. His lie about his whereabouts might easily have its own reasons| be}.

[reallyintoscience]

wip word search game🔎

tagged by @issylra (:D)

words: red, sleep, soft, fall, blanket

red From an untitled snippet: Hob, laying on the couch with Dream cradled against him, his back to Hob's front. Dream's mouth is red and wet from how much they've been kissing before they lay down. He's dazed with it. Hob's hands are under Dream's shirt, playing with his tits. His mouth is on Dream's neck, kissing and biting and murmuring filth in his ear, because he wants to know if he can get Dream off this way. Just from Hob pinching and rubbing his nipples and talking to him, rubbing his stubble against Dream's throat. Dream just has to lay there and stare up at the ceiling, and flex his hands against his thighs because he's not allowed to touch himself. 

sleep Nothing, weirdly!

soft

From a future scene in If Only Grant a Name: He watches the movie. His awareness is of Hob's fingertips on the skin of his upper arm, the quiet human sounds of his body working, the rough-soft hair on his warm belly. His awareness is for his growing arousal.

_

From Worship, the gangbang fic: It's a good thing Hob's already down for the count because that's a hell of thing for a man to hear. He flushes, unaccountably, and absolutely has to kiss Dream's pink mouth. He's so soft and wet inside, and yet his teeth are so sharp and present. His beautiful nightmare lover. Hob would give him anything. 

AND

"How's that, love?" Dream's hole is so soft and wet around his fingers it feels obscene. Hob squeezes just a little more lube into him. It's surely more than enough by now, but he doesn't want this beautiful creature to feel one moment of pain tonight. Only the slick glide and the mess as he's fucked over and over, until he's only his body, only his starlight skin and his own pleasure. For this one night, relief from the pressure of all the minds he cradles and cares for every moment of his life. It is a respite that Hob alone cannot grant him, but he can give him this. 

_

From the Tattoo Fic: He's careful in the washing, warm water and the soft foam Hob gives him, the scrape of the blade over Hob's skin, the quiet sounds of water as he cleans the edge. Hob's perfect trust in this.

fall

From the Tattoo Fic: He could render parts of the Dreaming, perhaps, things Hob would find difficult to describe at all, and less still well enough for a human artist to interpret. His palace, wrapping around Hob's flank, the spires reaching up under his arm and the bridges curving down toward his navel. The castle guardians, sitting proud on Hob's biceps. His windows, oh, his windows in their current flowered glory, his windows that betray, as always, the depths of his soul. The three arches painted across Hob's back and shoulders, sunflowers in stained glass. A reminder to Dream himself what this man means to him, if he should fall into his own pride again and come to forget.

blanket Nothing!

tagging: @beholdingthegaytimes @gabessquishytum @magnusbae @beholdme - and as always, anyone who wants to do this!

new words: wet, sharp, deep, glow, rain

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@originemesis xxx)

The seraphim earns himself a quirked brow and a bullish snort courtesy of the man he'd just got finished body slamming into the mud with a six appendage advantage. Wouldn't dream of harming him, huh? DEBATABLE. Though aside from the mounting pressure of a certain nut allergy flare up, there's no indication he's come to any undue duress besides the streaks of mud stuck to his flanks like newly earned scars. "You know a promise means you actually won't do that, right? No take backs! Not even if my arms fall off and a spider falls on it." Oddly specific, considering his arms don't look like they've ever come off at any point since his creation, but hey. The sky is the limit on ideas in Eden, and he's already attempted jumping up to slap that.

As far as his other angelic company went, the closest conversation he's half held about the habits of their anatomy and reproductive nature had been his periodic pondering hours spent with Raphael in the thicket at dusk when the garden is settling and the angel wanted to ensure the humans were doing the same since Adam had the unfortunate habit of finding trees he could clamber up but not necessarily clamber back down in his search for stars above the canopy. Though those conversations were usually half choked deflections on the archangel's part, particularly when the man wanted to know if giant angels like him had giant dicks-

"If you...feel like it?" It's his turn to offer a series of stumped blinks, though his gaze settles from drifting along the slope of the other's pec plastered forearm to the suddenly bare form of an angel sans a sopping robe. It's a subtle enough alteration given how the cloth has clung while wet, but the connection of flesh on exposed ethereality has him swallowing another gulp that does not quite dislodge the lump in his throat enough for his voice to not crack in time with the demanding pulse pinned between their laps. "So like-"

Curious still despite the thickening brain fog, he shifts his weight onto one hand while the other raises- hesitates with a flex of fingers, then stamps a muddy print on the clean surface of his company's chest before his gaze ventures down to study the distinct lack of a toolkit. "You can just make one like mine- or Lil's?" Whatever's churning in his head is quiet as he processes this curious turn of events before he has to ask (to anyone but Raphael's surprise-)

"Can you make both and just...ya know ~ knock yourself up?"

The First Man’s strange and specific wording about his arm falling off and a spider landing upon it gives rise to one of Lucid’s brow, lips pursed with confusion. That was a thing? Surely not. But where on Earth did Adam get an idea like that? Perhaps the blue angel should consult one of his older brothers on the matter. Or Adam in the future…present? Future to this human, present to the angel. Lucid offers a grin and hand held up, as if giving a scouts honor. “The promise shall be upheld no matter what.”

He watches the man’s wandering, inquisitive eyes, equally fascinated of curious he is of Lucid. It seems they both were in fact wondering of the subject: Lucid of the humans anatomy and function, and in turn Adam curious of the angels seemingly lack of anatomy. He nods with a hum to the questioning of “if he feels like it.” Which is exactly what it is. His gaze flicks down at the prodding finger to his chest, grinning. “Indeed! I am capable of presenting both male and female anatomy, like your own or Lilith’s. However I’ve not really had a need to do as such, due to the lack of need for reproduction and, well…I’ve no partner of my own in which to engage in such activities.”

The next question startles the seraphim, his sky blue eyes going wide as his brow raises high. And then proceeds to laugh, a soft bell like laughter. What a silly question to ask! And remarkably creative, Lucid must admit. Shaking his head, the angel replies. “No~ I cannot conceive from myself. That would be quite an interesting way to perform parthenogenesis. An asexual form of reproduction or “virgin birth”. Animals that can mate without need of the opposite sex essentially clone themselves.”

Oh, that statement gives him pause. Lucid himself is by definition a clone. Not that he’s about to explain that whole hot mess to Adam currently. That bridge will be crossed in the far distant future. His gaze drops further, raising his hand over his crotch. Golden magic glows between his fingers and the sensitive area, causing him to suck in a breath at the sensation. Perhaps to amuse Adam’s curiosity, Lucid forms both sexes. Unlike the First Man, the angel currently did not show signs of a nut allergy.

“You are correct that I can form both at once. But no, I cannot “knock myself up” as you suggested.” Sliding his fingers down over himself, Lucid’s eyes half-lid, noting the tingling of pleasure from the contact. He has done this so few times that the angel forgets just how sensitive these areas can be. Which brings him back to Adam’s current needs. Gently, Lucid cups under the first manhood, his fingers caressing the bass and sliding upwards towards the tip. And then back down again, slow and inspecting. “It is your duty to seed humanity. All from this.” Further down his fingers stretch, rubbing against the man’s “berries” that hang below.

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Unwanted Mate - Chapter 37 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Nathan Briar

Tatum must hate me now.

My twin sat in the chair beside the bed, his eyes falling on everything but me.

I continued to stare at him but said nothing.

His eyes were red from crying, his tears now dry on his pale cheeks.

I did not cry... I could not cry.

I was not sad, only relieved.

Maybe that made it worse.

Maybe that made me a horrible wolf.

I should feel bad for killing my own unborn pup.

I knew that others would expect that.

It would be a lie though.

I could only feel content knowing that Alpha Malore would never get a pup from me.

I made sure of it.

The doctor had confirmed it, had said there was too much damage.

My body had tried healing itself before they could do anything to prevent it.

They had to cut me back open to clean out the womb so there would be no risk of infection.

I don't remember any of it.

They had sedated me as soon as they understood what had happened.

There was only the stitched-together skin as proof of my success.

Tatum had listened to the doctors explain this with tears in his eyes the whole time.

He broke down as soon as the door shut behind them.

And now he will not look at me.

He hates me.

My fingers drifted down to the thick bandage taped across my stomach.

The healing will be even slower now because they cut me open over the already damaged skin.

I wondered when the Alpha would come.

He will kill me now.

I'm sure of it.

I served no purpose, not anymore.

I clawed his heir out of me.

It was surprising I had lived this long.

Hours or days later, I did not know.

Where was our Momma?

She had been there, her and Calvin too.

I remembered fighting the male as he picked me up and carried me to the infirmary when the doctor took too long to come.

He was not supposed to touch me, I had made him swear not to.

He did not care that he broke that promise so soon after making it.

It did not matter anyway.

The male had stormed off as soon as I was passed over to the doctors.

I laid my hand on the bed, palm up, hoping Tatum would take it.

He ignored it.

Exhausted, my vision blurred as I continued to stare at my twin.

I was already succumbing to sleep, the pain medicine dripping from the IV taking effect.

I did not feel his hand finally take mine before I fell asleep.

********

"He turned himself over to the council without a fight. They've already called for a meeting with the Alpha, a vote will be made."

I kept my eyes shut, feigning sleep as I listened to our Momma talk with Tatum.

"There is no solid proof to justify him killing your Alpha."

Alpha Malore is dead?

And I was not there to witness it?

A pity but a blessing still.

We were free of that male for good.

He could not hurt Tatum anymore.

My heart felt lighter.

He could not kill me.

"No solid proof? Nathan had been locked in the closet."

Tatum was angry... I could hear him pacing the length of the room.

Not many things could get him so worked up.

"It's not enough, pup, our Alphas are allowed to punish us however they see fit. Some would even say it was too light a punishment."

Tatum scoffed.

"That's bullshit."

I fought my smile at hearing sweet Tatum curse. 

"It's for the Alphas to decide."

"Fuck the Alphas," Tatum growled, storming out of the room with our Momma following close behind, trying to explain a way of life that the world had outgrown.

With my eyes still shut my tired mind drifted again to sleep.

***********

Tatum kneeled in front of me, his hands gentle as he replaced my bandage that had gotten wet from my shower.

I could feel the healing skin pulling even as I stood still.

My twin was quiet.

He barely spoke to me and I did not know what I could say to make him understand, to make him forgive me.

So, I stayed just as quiet.

He can hate me all he wants.

I will not apologize for doing it, I will never regret it.

"I want to speak to Calvin."

Tatum's head jerked up, his hands freezing in their task.

"Why?"

"Why not?" I challenged.

Tatum did not know.

I never told him about seeing our mate.

He did not know about how the male had pleaded on his knees, how he submitted and begged for a way to make it up to us.

At the time I had thought they were impossible tasks for the male to complete.

I wanted to hate him forever, so I gave him something I thought he would never be able to see through.

Tatum watched me with questioning eyes before shaking his head.

"You can't. The council is holding him in the Surez pack jail."

"You can take me there."

"No."

My twin shook his head, laying down the last piece of medical tape.

"You don't have to keep me safe anymore," the words were harsher than I intended but I could not help it.

It was hard to forget the words he had spoken, muffled by the locked door between us.

I had never felt the need to guard myself against my twin.

He was always my safe place or he had been.

I did not feel safe anywhere anymore.

Tatum stood up from the floor, his eyes shifty again.

He looked ready to cry and I immediately felt bad.

"Sorry."

I ran my hand over my freshly bandaged stomach.

The pain was a good enough distraction.

It was better than watching how he fought back tears my words had caused.

"They're not just discussing Calvin's punishment, they don't know what to do with us. Our pack is without Alpha or heir."

Tatum folded up the towel I had used.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

The new room smelt like a lemon-scented cleaner.

It was smaller than the one we had shared with Alpha Malore.

Just a bed and a wooden dresser pushed under the window.

I liked it.

The Alpha's scent was not here.

There was no walk-in closet.

"I want to see Calvin."

Tatum scoffed, tossing the towel on the floor.

"Why? Why do you want to see him?"

His blue eyes pinned me in place, trying to find his answer on my blank face.

I turned away from him, looking out the window at the cloudless sky.

"When did we start keeping things from each other?" his voice cracked but I did not look at him.

He sighed in defeat, the bedroom door shutting softly behind him.

It was worse than if he had slammed it.

His anger would have been easier to swallow.

Instead, he walked around me as if I would break apart at any moment.

He pities me but I know he hates me for what I did too.

He would hate me more if he knew I would do it again in a heartbeat.

If he knew I didn't regret doing it but regretted not doing it sooner.

********

"Your Daddy is trying to get them to give you back to us, so you can come home."

Momma looked hopeful, a small smile on her lips.

It fell away when I pushed her hand away and stood to move across the room.

I kept my back turned to the others in the room, my hands gripping the edge of the dresser as I stared unseeingly out of the window.

She was out of her fucking mind if she thought I would go back to my birth pack.

If I would go back with them.

I did not want to be another kept Omega again.

I wanted freedom.

I thought Tatum and I would have that with Alpha Malore dead.

I was wrong but I would not stop fighting for it, not now, not after everything.

"Why does he want us? Does he plan on selling us to another Alpha?"

It was a valid question.

At least I thought so.

"Well, I'm not worth shit anymore," I laughed but my family did not see the humor in it.

I turned around to face them again, leaning back against the dresser with my arms crossed over my chest.

Tatum sat quietly on the edge of the bed with his eyes glued to the floor.

Our Momma sat close to Tatum, our older brother stood alone in the middle of the room.

Mathais looked uncomfortable.

He had not been there when our father had Malore take us.

I wondered what our older brother would have done.

Would he have stopped it?

Or was he just another weak Alpha?

"That won't happen," Momma rushed to say.

"Like you could stop him if he did," I laughed again, this time bitterly.

"What was it he got the first time? How much were his twin Omegas worth?"

Momma looked away from me.

She could not even handle the truth of my words.

"You stayed with a male who sold your pups."

"Nathan," Tatum stood up, eyes pleading with me.

"What? It's the truth."

"They're mates."

"Yeah and ours rejected us for less."

Tatum had nothing to say to that.

He dropped back onto the bed in defeat.

"You would rather become a rogue than come home?" Mathais spoke up for the first time.

"Calvin refused to take Malore's title as Alpha, he would rather be judged. With no Alpha or heir, the pack is going to be disbanded."

"Yes," I said, raising my chin defiantly.

There was more freedom in being a Rogue than a pack Omega.

"Don't pretend to care now. Neither of you tried to even reach out to either of us. We... we spent two whole years with that monster of a male. Two years with no one for comfort but each other."

Our Momma started crying then and Tatum followed her silently, tears running down his cheeks.

"I am sorry for that, Nathan," Mathais met my eyes, forcing me to see his sincerity even though I wanted to ignore it for guilt.

"If you're truly sorry, take me to see Calvin."

[jsbsam]

Buenas dias Santiago

Thursday 23rd November 2023

Yesterday we travelled from our back packer hovel in San Pedro de Atacama to Calama to catch our flight to the Chilean capital of Santiago. The taxi to the airport turned up 45 minutes late so I wasn't in the best of moods as we eventually left back packer central behind and set off on the 60 mile trip across the Atacama desert to the airport at Calama. The Atacama desert is the driest non-polar desert in the world and has been used as a practice area for Mars landings as it most resembles the Martian environment apparently! Some of the scenery on the journey was spectacular, as were the views from the plane as we flew over the spine of the Andes on our way to Santiago.

When we arrived in Santiago our plane was held out on the tarmac for over half an hour before we were eventually bussed to the terminal with me having to use my somewhat basic Spanish to respond to our drivers frantic calls demanding to know where we were as we were late. Despite the panic we eventually met the most miserable bugger we've come across since we landed in South America and he drove us to our hotel in the commercial centre of Santiago. Needless to say he didn't get a tip so I expect he was even more miserable when he got home!

The hotel is well located so we went exploring, had dinner and a few drinks and organised a city tour for today.

We were up and ready in the foyer of our hotel 10 minutes before the guide was supposed to pick us up at 7.50am. He eventually turned up at 8.30am and was very blasé when challenged about being late. "oh, you're in South America now. What do you expect?“. He'd already lost me by then, I was ticking. We then spent the next hour buggering about picking up other tourists from other hotels... tick, tick, tick. He then proceeded to take us very slowly round a few streets in the centre of Santiago. The slowest and most boring tour I've ever been on. Three Brazilians just left at one point, without paying, never to be seen again. I was feeling exactly the same but MM insisted that we stayed the course. At 1pm he said "that's it, finito". A young Australian girl said "what about Bella Vista". At this point his English suddenly became very poor and he appeared not to understand. The young girl persisted and I supported her - tick, tickeddy, tick, tick. Fortunately, a Canadian woman had the flyer with her that supported our position and it transpired that the lazy bugger had missed out about half of the tour. Tick, tick, tick - not happy. He now had nowhere to go, so he spent the next 2 hours doing the things he'd missed but he'd lost the crowd and the atmosphere wasn't great at all. The worst tour I've ever been on, can't wait for the feedback request!

Having said all that Santiago is a nice surprise. After all the 3rd world places we've been to over the past 3 weeks or so it's nice to be somewhere recognisable. Much more like a European city with proper infrastructure, cars that don't look like they've taken part in wacky races, traffic lights, pavement cafes and bars, parks and wide avenues. A pleasant change for a couple of days. It'll be interesting to see how the rest of Chile compares.

After the tour we took the metro red line (very clean, efficient and cheap) from Manuel Montt to Universidad de Santiago to book our bus tickets to and from Valparaiso on the coast, where we'll spend a night before returning to Santiago to take the 10hr overnight bus to Pucon in Patagonia where we'll spend a couple of nights before we head into Argentina.

Weather has been very warm so no need for all the cold and wet weather gear we packed yet.

It'll be good to see the sea tomorrow. We seem to have survived the altitude and the return to sea level reasonably well so hopefully the rest of the trip should be a doddle! We'll see.

[kradogsrats]

Soren, as a rule, isn't very good at hiding.

People like him aren't meant to hide. If anything, he's made to be seen—tall, broad, and athletic, with a body that looks good in armor and even better in uniform. He's also strikingly handsome, if he dares to say so, himself. Which he does. Often.

It means he can pull off a personality that could be referred to charitably as "boistrous," and less charitably as "obnoxious as hell," and top it off with a grin that's either "winning" or "shit-eating," depending on who you ask. Of course he'd prefer for people to like him, but if they don't? Well, he's survived being disliked by people who mattered a lot more.

Like him or not, the important thing is that they look at him. Because when people are looking at Soren—whether in admiration or annoyance—they're not looking at other things. Like the less obvious Crownguard moving into flanking positions, or the angles where King Ezran might be vulnerable to attack.

So the only time Soren even wants to hide is—well, it's when he cries.

It's not like he cries a lot. Hardly ever, really. His dad—Viren never had much patience for his children's feelings, but whenever Claudia cried, he'd at least give her a stiff hug and awkwardly pat her hair a few times before telling her to get herself under control. If Soren cried, he seemed to take every tear like it was a personal insult. Maybe because crying made Soren breathe funny, and he'd always hated that. Soren never figured it out, and it didn't really matter.

He learned that if he was going to cry, he had to do it somewhere it wasn't seen. Eventually, he learned how to not cry at all, which was better. It meant he could put his tears away for later, in order to do what has to be done. Just like Viren always wanted.

It worked on feelings, too. Not just grief and fear, but doubt and pride and loyalty and honor and even thinking, for just one second, about what he's actually doing—

Soren can still put all that away. For later.

He's good at it. So good that he's not entirely sure whether he even could cry, if for some reason it became necessary. Like if the fate of the world depended on him shedding tears, somehow. Which would be weird, but he's hung around enough mages that he's seen plenty of much weirder stuff.

But no matter how good he gets at it, sometimes everything is suddenly just... too much, and he has to go fall apart somewhere no one will see him pulling himself back together. It's only ever for an hour or two, and not when Ezran—never when the King needs him. Only when he knows for sure that Corvus or Opeli or someone has everything under control.

Finding somewhere he can be alone for a while should be easy. Soren has spent his entire life in the castle, so he already knows all the places no one ever goes. Usually it's because they're too far from anything useful, but sometimes it's because the rugs got wet once and now the whole hall smells funny, or it somehow got left off the cleaning rota for a couple years and now everything's too dusty to bother, or there's that one creepy painting with the eyes that look like they're following you.

It should be easy, but Soren is apparently even worse at hiding than he'd thought.

When they were kids, Claudia could always find him. She knew every inch of the castle just as well as he did, so it was only a matter of time until she crept in to give him a hug and say something silly to cheer him up. Sometimes it even worked.

Claudia also knew him better than anyone else in the world ever has. Maybe more than anyone ever will. She was—is his sister. So it's just weird that Corvus is now the one who keeps showing up.

Weird, because he and Corvus aren't... anything. Maybe they've been through some stuff, but Soren can't really say they're even friends.

Somehow, Corvus is still there every single time. No matter where Soren goes, Corvus will eventually poke his head in to unsubtly check up on him, then presumably report back to Ezran that he's fine. Maybe it's just an efficient use of resources, because admittedly Corvus's whole thing is finding stuff—he tracked Ezran, Callum, and Rayla almost the whole way to Xadia, without having to climb Mount Kalik for a fancy spell. He probably thinks Soren's attempts to hide are laughable, though he never actually laughs.

He's just there. Every time.

Like today, when Soren's sitting in the dusty closet of a storage room full of out-of-date furniture that's part of a guest wing unused since King Atticus's time. He was crying, but now he's just kind of stewing in the aftermath with his puffy eyes and sticky cheeks, feeling sorry for himself.

Corvus is right on schedule, pulling open the closet door to look at him with big, dark eyes that are somehow piercing and unfairly soft at the same time.

"Hey," he says. "You okay?"

Soren risks a glance up at him, but can't face the concern in those eyes. Not when it looks so genuine.

"Does King Ezran always have to send you to track me down?" he grumbles, examining the floor, instead. "It's not like I'm going to somehow get in another fight with a dragon."

Corvus sighs in a way that mixes exasperation and something uncomfortably like sympathy. His mouth is probably doing that thing where he purses his lips just a little, and the bottom one plumps up in a way that can get pretty distracting. At the moment, Soren doesn't really feel like looking.

Then he looks anyway, because his head snaps up when Corvus answers. "Ezran doesn't send me, you dumbass."

His mouth is, of course, doing the thing, and Soren can't quite process what he's hearing.

"He doesn't?" he asks stupidly, as if Corvus didn't just say exactly that. "Then why even bother? Finding me can't be much of a challenge."

"Oh, for—because not everything has to be a training exercise, okay?" Despite the frustration in his tone, Corvus sits down next to him, close enough that their shoulders touch. "Weird as it may be, some people do actually care about you."

Soren could lean against him, if he wanted. It's a thought that makes his heart leap in his chest with surprise, because Corvus usually maintains a professional distance between them. At least, he's pretty sure it's surprise. Maybe. Hopefully.

He wonders how Corvus manages to wear that scarf all the time, when a room can get this warm so suddenly.

"Some people?" he echoes, his mouth dry. With any luck, he'll sound like he's playing up how pathetic he's being on purpose. Not being actually pathetic enough to ask. "Like... King Ezran?"

Corvus rolls his eyes and nudges his shoulder against Soren's a little, like he might be inviting Soren to do the same. "Yeah, exactly. Like King Ezran."

"You're right," Soren says. It comes out strained—he feels like he's going to cry again, and for once, he can't quite manage to put it away. He leans the tiniest bit against Corvus's shoulder. "That's pretty weird."

Corvus doesn't speak again for a while, but he also doesn't shrug Soren off. "You don't have to do all this, you know," he finally says, quietly. "No one thinks less of you just because your dad was shit and it makes things hard."

"I can't help it," Soren sighs. "I'll hide better, next time. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you—," Corvus stops, sighing again. When Soren looks, Corvus's eyes are on him, dark and serious. Then they suddenly jerk away, like he's embarrassed. "Just don't hide too well. My reputation would never recover if one day I couldn't find you."

Soren grins. The shit-eating one. "That sounds like a challenge."

"Oh no, you don't—the Battalion is already saying I've gone all domesticated, being a Crownguard, now."

"So you're asking me to go easy on you?"

"Never mind," Corvus says, shaking his head, but he's smiling. He leans against Soren. "I hate you, and I'm never coming after you again."

"Which means I win by default," Soren points out, his grin widening. "Even though I'm terrible at it."

Corvus pulls away to sock him in the arm. His mouth is doing that thing again as he gets to his feet, offering Soren a hand up.

Soren can't help but laugh as he takes it.

Soren + Corvus

Bizarre

[worldecoideas]

The amount of waste we produce is one of the most crucial factors to take into account when it comes to sustainable living. While it might occasionally be challenging to identify strategies to lessen our environmental impact, we all desire to do so. Switching to reusable wipes is an excellent method to reduce our waste. Reusable wipes are a fantastic substitute for disposable wipes and single-use paper towels and can have a significant environmental impact. What are reusable wipes? Paper towels and disposable wipes can both be environmentally friendly substitutes for reusable wipes. Usually constructed of cotton or microfiber, they are intended for repeated use. Reusable wipes can be found in a range of sizes and forms and are useful for a number of chores, including cleaning, dusting, and even removing makeup. They are a perfect substitute for anyone trying to lessen their environmental impact because they are also significantly more economical than disposable wipes. Advantages of using reusable wipes Reusable wipes provide a lot of benefits. They may be used numerous times, which will initially save you money. It won't be necessary to change reusable wipes as frequently because they are significantly more durable than disposable wipes. Furthermore, since they are often comprised of natural materials, reusable wipes are far more environmentally friendly than disposable wipes. How to use reusable wipes Reusable wipes are simple and easy to use. The first step is to dampen the wipe with warm water, a little soap, or cleaning solution. Use the wet wipe to gently wipe the surface you are cleaning. Simply clean the wipe with warm water after use and hang it up to dry. The same wipe can be used often; just be sure to clean it thoroughly and hang it up to dry in between uses. Tips for making your own reusable wipes Making your own reusable wipes is an excellent method to cut costs and lessen your impact on the environment. All you need is some used t-shirts, some warm water, and some scissors. The t-shirts should first be cut into small squares. The squares should then be soaked in warm water with a little soap. Wring them out once they've been saturated and hang them out to dry. You can use them once they have dried! Benefits of using reusable wipes They can be reused numerous times and, as was already noted, are far more durable than disposable wipes. Additionally, reusable wipes are frequently composed of natural materials, making them far better for the environment than disposable wipes. Since you won't need to purchase fresh disposable wipes each time you need to clean something, they also help you save money over time. How reusable wipes are helping the environment Reusable wipes are helping the environment in a number of ways.  By reducing the number of disposable wipes we use, we are cutting down on the amount of plastic waste that ends up in landfills.  Additionally, reusable wipes are usually made of natural materials, so they are less likely to end up in our oceans and other bodies of water. Tips for transitioning to reusable wipes It can initially feel intimidating to transition to reusable wipes, but it doesn't have to be. Start by gradually substituting reusable wipes for your disposable ones. Before utilizing them for larger jobs like cleaning the kitchen or bathroom, you can test using reusable wipes for little activities like dusting or makeup removal. In order to always have some reusable wipes on hand when you need them, remember to keep a few extras on hand. What to look for when buying reusable wipes It's crucial to search for natural materials when purchasing reusable wipes. Both cotton and microfibre are excellent choices because they are strong and environmentally friendly. Additionally, be sure to search for wipes that dry fast and are simple to clean. This will guarantee that you can reuse them repeatedly without frequently replacing them. Reusable wipe alternatives

If you’re not ready to make the switch to reusable wipes, there are still plenty of eco-friendly alternatives.  Cloth napkins and dishcloths are both great alternatives to disposable wipes, and they can be used multiple times.  Additionally, some companies make biodegradable wipes that are designed to break down quickly and reduce the amount of waste in landfills. Conclusion You may lessen your impact on the environment and your wallet by switching to reusable wipes. They can be used more than once, unlike disposable wipes. And because they tend to be crafted from all-natural components, they are significantly less harmful to the earth. Last but not least, they are cheap and simple to implement, making them an excellent option for anyone concerned with waste management. Therefore, why delay? Reusable wipes can help you live a greener life right now.  

[ode-to-spring]

♡⋆.ೃ࿔* WORRIES WASHED AWAY ~

diluc is worried when you come home late from an expedition, you do all you can to comfort him

ੈ♡˳ diluc x reader (romantic ♡)

ੈ♡˳ category :: kind of hurt/comfort?? diluc is worried and gets comforted does that count, established relationship !

ੈ♡˳ warnings :: again hurt/comfort, diluc assumes the worst happens but nothing rlly graphic is described, everything is fine in the end

ੈ♡˳ a/n :: written instead of my algebra homework

"where have you been?"

diluc's worried voice nearly echoed throughout the halls of the dawn winery. other than him, the whole mansion was devoid of any sign of life-- the maids and butlers had already finished their duties and gone home, the place tidy and clean for the night. from where you stood at the large doorstep, you could see a flame crackling in the fireplace, the embers burning brightly as if they've been newly re-lit. and finally, a shadow traveled through the wooden floors of the mansion, it's owner hurriedly making his way to your direction.

in an instant, you felt yourself held by the shoulders, worried eyes piercing into yours before scanning every part of you for injuries. "do you have any idea what time is it? theres a storm outside, not a star in the sky-- the knights promised you'd all be back by sunset, are you hurt? did something happen?"

"diluc, i'm fine," you started, cutting off his concerned mantra. "the rain slowed our travel, but we didn't run into any problems," you swiftly shook yourself from his near iron grip, putting some distance between yourself and his flood of questions.

you told the truth, of course. you went on a quick expedition with a few knights of favonious to the neighboring nation of liyue, and the turbulent weather made the trip longer than intended. your proof was the drenched coat dripping rainwater all over the hardwood floors under you, but diluc didn't didnt seem to buy it.

"but still, are you sure you aren't injured? i should never have let you go without me, what if you got ambushed? the bandits in liyue are especially known for being notorious, you could've gotten separated from the rest of the knights, and--"

before he even realized what was going on, diluc's troubled monologue was interrupted by a pair of lips on his. the kiss was soft, passionate, as if pouring everything you wanted to say without uttering a word. it served as your personal way of reminding him that you were right there, you were together, and you were okay.

for a moment or two after he simply stared at you in surprise, then relief, then affection. he held complete disregard for your sopping wet clothes when he suddenly held you in a tight embrace without breaking your kiss. you could feel his hot breath intermingling with yours, as if he was trying to calm himself down for you.

due to numerous less than happy experiences in his life, it was no surprise that he'd expect the worst in every situation-- especially those that involved your safety. he had enough trust in you to know that you can handle yourself well enough, even personally helping you with knight training (despite his initial distaste for your chosen occupation, but he'd support you anywhere you went nonetheless), but he could never stop his own mind from drifting off to the darkest places. he held onto you tightly to ground himself, remind him that you were right there in his arms, just like you promised you'd always be.

absentmindedly, your slightly wet fingers started carding through his fiery red hair. you found it comforting, in a way, and it helped both of you stay in the moment. an unspoken promise was interlaced within what otherwise was loving affection: no matter how long it'd take, no matter where either of you went, you'd always find a home in each other to come back to. and just like that, soaking wet at the doorstep of the dawn winery, you stayed for several moments-- a comfortable silence enveloping the both of you, as if flooding out all the feelings neither of you could put into words.

"i'll always come home to you."

[dontfeeltoohot]

flowers

Here is...whatever chaos this is. Have some 18+ snzkink!Steve and allergic!Eddie. Pure fluff. Eddie wants to indulge Steve, and well. Steve combusts.

+ + +

The man is acutely aware that people are staring as he looks at the different flowers arranged nicely at the floral area in the local supermarket. Eddie 'the freak' Munson trying to decide what color flowers to buy...what has the world come to. You'd think it was worse than Hawkins literally splitting into four pieces. Pointedly ignoring the gazes, the guitarist continues to brush his fingers against the different plants before he finally picks out a simple bouquet of roses, thinking they're probably the most romantic anyway.

Even holding them for less than seconds, Eddie can smell the floral aroma wafting from them. For a split second, he debates on putting them back, maybe this isn't a good idea. But then he imagines Steve's face and he walks up to the cashier, smiling warmly and pulling his wallet out. For $12.48, he better get some mind blowing sex from this. That, or at least a deep red blush on his boyfriend's cheeks. Either will be good enough.

The drive to Steve's house consists of Eddie trying to decide how exactly he wants to execute his 'Make Steve cream his pants' operation. They've never really done much in the way of Steve's...thing. They'd both acknowledged it, but that's about as far as it's gone as of yet. As he goes through scenarios in his head, the long haired man rubs his nose lazily, the pollen from the roses already starting to affect him.

Knocking on Steve's door with the roses in hand, Eddie thinks maybe he should have cleaned up a bit more. Though it's a random Tuesday afternoon, he feels like wearing the same black jeans and an old tee is starting to get predictable, and Eddie Munson is anything but predictable. When he knocks again, rings hitting the solid wood door, he hears Steve's voice carrying from inside the house.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming!"

Smiling at the huffiness in the others tone, Eddie subtly tries to make his hair a little more bouncy, then brushes any tiny whisps away from his face. He holds the roses close and rubs his nose again, blinking when he feels his eyes start to water. The door opens and Steve freezes, eyes zeroing in on the flowers.

Eddie raises an eyebrow when Steve doesn't do anything, still looking at them like they might actually be a bomb.

"Harrington, you gonna leave me standing out here like an idiot? If you don't like the flowers that's fine, but can I at least come inside, it's freezing," Eddie keeps the dramatic, theatrical tone in his voice like he always does, hoping it'll cover the nervousness and slight hurt at the fact Steve really does seem to not want the roses.

"Y-Yeah, sorry, sorry," Steve lets him in, shutting and locking the door behind him.

This is the first time he's felt somewhat awkward around his boyfriend since...well, since before they became boyfriends. Walking in, Eddie rubs his nose with the back of his wrist, trying to make the itch dissipate while he figures out what the hell is going on with the other man. Steve finally reaches out and takes the flowers from him, looking at them with a sudden, dopey smile.

"Okay, what the hell is going on Harrington, are you okay? Should I chuck them in the trash?" He rubs his nose again, scrubbing it with his knuckles and then scrunching it up. An audible wet sniffle rings out and Steve looks up.

"No, no. Don't, I like them. I just...have never had anyone give me flowers," a deep blush appears on Steve's face and Eddie grins so widely it hurts. That's the blush he's been hoping to see.

"Well, this should have been happening more often then, and I'll see to it that it does," he presses a big, sloppy kiss to Steve's cheek, the moment feeling like it needs some lightening. Standing close, the guitarist sighs and nuzzles Steve's shoulder before taking the flowers back, ignoring the confused look from the other man.

"We gotta put them in a vase or glass, or they're going to die. You're helpless Stevie," Eddie smirks playfully, then starts to head to the Harrington's kitchen, where he's sure he'll find a plethora of vases that Steve's mother has collected from worthy suitors sending her flowers over the years, begging her to break up with Steve's father. He freezes halfway towards the kitchen, thin nostrils twitching, flaring into circles. He rubs the heel of his hand up against his nose this time, the itch all encompassing in his head and nose.

"Eddie, why'd you st-"

"h'GKkt! ih'DKtt'uh! hn'GKtt'uhew!"

The itch doesn't go away, doesn't even begin to. He's not been around flowers like this in a long time, and god, maybe he's gotten worse because he can't remember feeling this...itchy.

"ih'GKt'uhhh! h'gkst! eh'GXTt'uhew!"

His hair tumbles in front of his face and the flowers almost get dropped. When he's able to form a semi-coherent thought after the intense itch backs down, he turns to Steve, smirking in a way he knows makes him look kind of like a predator to his prey. Steve's standing there looking like he might actually explode. His cheeks are once again bright red, but his eyes are wide with lust, and his hands are shaking.

"Something interesting to you Harrington?"

His voice is thick with congestion, and his eyes are itchy, but he just blinks back the feeling. Keeping his voice playful, he grins and moves to find a vase, trying to be extra teasing with him tonight. He wants him to unravel. Eddie bends down and finally finds a glass vase in one of the low cabinets. As expected, there seem to be at least six other ones. After putting water in it, Eddie breaks the stems a little to make them shorter, then starts arranging them. He knows Steve is as aware as he is how much pollen he's kicking up from messing with them, he can practically see it floating around.

"ihGTSCHH! hih'ktSCH! ih'gkt'uhew!"

"Uhh..."

"You okay Killer?" Eddie pats at Steve's cheek as he smirks, but then his nose twitches two or three times, and he rubs his nose roughly.

"I uh...shouldn't I be asking you that?" Steve's are are so big, and he's watching Eddie with the most intense look he's ever seen from the guy.

"Me? I'm fihhne, juhh-HH! Just a tickle....allehhhgies..." He gives the soupiest sniffle after, one that's productive enough it causes another round of sneezes to start, and this time, Eddie presses his face into Steve's shoulder.

"eh'Gkstch! hih'Kgtch'uh! ihh'gktsch'uhEW!"

The last sneeze catches them both off guard, the way it's so loud and desperate, the higher pitched ending making Steve wrap an arm around Eddie's middle. Eddie snuffles against Steve's shoulder, then looks up. They both can see the small damp spots his nostrils have left, and he feels his boyfriend squirm. Oh yeah, they're gonna have great sex tonight.

"Jesus Christ," Steve mumbles out, breathing heavier.

"Actually, my names Eddie, but I get that a lot," Eddie leans in as close as he can without their noses touching. Then, knowing Steve likes his flare for the dramatics, the guitarist brushes their noses together, sniffling.

"Stevie...h-hhave a tickle...right here," and he bumps the tips of their noses together. His eyebrows draw up, his eyes flutter, then he smiles when he hears a guttural noise emit itself from his boyfriend. He's dimly aware of being led to the couch, but the itch isn't letting up and the idea of focusing on anything else isn't possible. He gets pulled down on top of Steve and instantly presses his nose to his neck.

"ih'GKtch'uhew! F-Fuhhck Steve..." Eddie whimpers as Steve rubs up against him, their jeans getting in the way. "h'ngKTSCH! ihKSTCH'uhew!"

A breathy 'oh my god' stumbles out of Steve's mouth and both of them rush to take their pants off, Steve all but ripping his shirt away as Eddie tries and fails to get his own off, the material rubbing against his nose, setting him off into another fit.

"ihktsch! hh'gnxtch! ihtschuhew!"

They're softer but itchier. Steve helps with the shirt, then kisses him hard, hands roaming everywhere on his porcelain skin. Though his hands have scars, most of the rest of Eddie's body is unmarred, all creamy pale skin and freckles on his back. Steve's got enough moles on his back, littered everywhere, that Eddie wants to connect them all into some new constellation.

"God you're so fucking hot," Steve mumbles, kissing down his boyfriends jaw and to his neck.

"Yeah well, one of us has to be, but it's not me. You should see your ass," he smirks playfully, and yet another blush arises. Score three for the Munsonater. Steve sucks on his neck and the noise Eddie makes is embarrassing. Just as he's about to move back to kiss his lips more, Eddie's nose twitches.

"ihgKKkst! hih'TDchh'uh! ihNKTt! Oh god..." the curly haired man can feel the mess that's now half against his nose and half against Steve's jaw. He's about to apologize and pray for something to swallow him whole, but instead he's getting his jaw pressed into, and then Steve's kissing him again, and Eddie moans.

"And they call me a freak," he snorts, and Steve pauses, looking at him with playfully narrowed eyes, no heat behind them at all.

"Come on Steve, I'm an allergic mess and you're getting off," the man grins, kissing Steve again.

"You're so hot, all desperate. Can't sneeze fast enough, your cute nose.." Steve is rambling, rubbing their erections together. Eddie lets out a noise that Steve isn't sure is human, it sounds more like a whimper that Dart had made all those years ago.

"Yeah, well, m'gonna cum soon if you don't keep kissing me..."

"Okay, jesus, someone's impatient."

"I have been sneezing for the past half hour Steven, please..."

Eddie isn't one to beg, so Steve grins and starts kissing him again.

God he loves Steve and sex. In that order.