#this fic is long and im still working on it

[hyyhjoong]

i felt like i had to do a last recomendation/review this year and it couldnt possibly be any other fic. it's already taken me a long time to do this post.

"your gentle hands" is one of the most amazing fics ive ever read not only in this website but in all my life. the historical setting and its undertones are described in such an accurate and perfect way that it gets you immersed imediatly. the story's construction is so intricate it gets you extra eager to know what will happen next and hoping for everything to be okay. besides, the way the main character's feelings are explored is so, so real. the way the mysogyny is in the story is a reminder that we, fortunately, got very far with women's rights, but we still have a lot to do. we still have to be there and to protect each other. and hopefully get to count with allies, such as joong is in this.

oh, and hongjoong. he is absolutely perfect in this. as a hongjoong girl since day one, his personality here made me cry a bunch of times because i genuinely belive that he's very much like this in real life. genuine, caring, someone who fights for what's right, comprehensive, an altruist, calm, a true appreciator of arts and fashion and people. reading his character in "your gentle hands" reminded me once again why im such a big fan of real hongjoong and that things get better, also due to the fact i get to have him in my life. not as my literal saviour and future husband (i wish), but as my artist and bias and someone im proud to admire and walk along with in life, even if its from far away.

i also read it during a specially hard time i had this year, and getting to feel happy for having him in my life again was a true blessing.

as much as id want to keep talking about "your gentle hands" forever i feel like this is already long enough, at least for now. dear minerva, thank you so so much for sharing this amazing piece of your work and talent with us here. with me, specially. "your gentle hands" is, and will forever be, one of my all time favorite fanfics, and i feel like i'll come back to it for the rest of my life, because ill never get tired of it. thank you for inspiring me with your way with words and reminding me of so many good things. of love and perseverance. i'll probably never be grateful enough for it.

merry christmas and have a wonderful new year! hoping to get more and more in touch with you and your amazing writing ♡

p.s. im not a native english speaker, so forgive me for any writing mistakes or typos :)

Your Gentle Hands. || Kim Hongjoong [ Masterlist ]

Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive (mdni)

Wordcount: 37.6k

Warnings: chapter specific

Status: completed

Your Gentle Hands (They Feel Like Home To Me) - Part 1 here. [14.9k]

Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again) - Part 2 here. [22.7k]

[karinadele]

im challenging myself to write this in his pov.

crack fic asf | short form

optimus x reader

set in bayverse even though i havent watched it in years | Heavy on music!! this is purely crack on music!!

Shutdown under stasis in the junkyard, he's completely unaware that theres a little human girl climbing into him as she drives him off. Pulling up into her barn, she takes a look at her new haul. He's a sweet one, though needing repairs. so she gets to it.

Squinting, you've got your feet on the side of the door, hands on what looks like a weird metal missile, trying to pry it off, the moment its out, you flop to the floor. And a loud roar blares through, before you can even blink, static, electrics sparks and gurgles come through.

He's just been woken from stasis. something shifted out of him, and he instantly starts transforming. Calling out for Sam, screaming that he'll kill them all, defensive systems kicking in and on high alert, he points a cannon at what he finds as a threat.

A human girl.

Humans are not to be trusted. It didn't matter if they were small or female. He knows better to fall for those trivial tricks again. But the little one places her hands up to her hand, telling him he's safe. That they're in her barn. He can notice she's just as startled, and he drops his arm.

He hears you roughly explain the situation, optics glued onto her as you wander about digging in boxes. Leaning against the wall of the barn, slumped on the ground. He doesn't want to trust, but has no choice.

You're fumbling in boxes, tossing away wrenches and drills, looking for something of use. Eventually you find your laser welder and soldering gun, tucking them onto your belt and telling him to lay down. You may not be a mechanic, but you know enough to get around.

He lets out a static groan as he shifts down the wall of the barn, sliding to lay on the floor. You asked about music, and he nods. Music might be something to take the edge off right now. Despite not knowing much about human music, it surely is better than thinking about pain and his comrades.

Music flows into the air.

{Here is the house / Where it all happens / Those tender moments / Under this roof}

This house huh? Under this barn definitely. He glances over at you working away on him, noticing how you're being very gentle with him. Even a kick wouldn't even hurt him, yet your delicate hands dance through his internal wires patching him up.

{As it happens / It happens here in this house}

He lets out a small grunt as he feels your hands working inside him. Knowing he's extremely vulnerable right now, and allowing a human to fiddle with his systems does not bring any comfort. The only respite is from the music coming from the speakers. The dark, yet soft melody lulling him to relax. The lyrics oddly comforting him.

{Body and soul come together / As we come closer together}

It wasn't long before he realized that you were singing along to it, still elbows deep inside him, headlight on your head, rolling your hips in your own element, working away.

{And I feel your warmth / And it feels like home}

Slowly but surely, he can feel himself being patched up. Energon is no longer leaking, and you've moved up to his shoulder. His helm right next to you, optics glancing over to your small figure as you work inside out in the wounds. Careful as you go. Picking out shrapnel and tossing them behind your back, soldering up exposed metal. He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle as he sees how nonchalantly you are with working on him. A giant alien robot, yet you've accepted it so fast, even offering to help.

Shuffle gracing both of you with a greeting. 'You Found Me'

{Lost and insecure / You found me / You found me / Lying on floor / Surround me / Surround me}

He closes his optics, both to manage the pain, as well as absorbing the lyrics. Vulnerable as he is, yet dangerous as he is to mankind, here you are. Surrounding him. Being something he's never experienced before. Or has, but it's been so long ago. Unconditional care.

If it wasn't you who found him, would it be different? He doesn't even know if he's safe right now, but the comfort of someone being soft and gentle to him, with the music drifting through, it was a moment he could indulge in.

{You found me~ / You found me~}

He leans his head back to you, noticing that you've finished his shoulder. Hands on your own hips, squinting at your work, analyzing it. A little chuckle escapes from his vocalizer. He wanted to reach up and give you a pat, only to realize his arm is severely damaged.

You notice it as well. Making a mental note that the arm and chassis need fixing. Saving his chestplate for last, as it probably is the most sensitive and close to his spark. Diverting your attention on his arm instead.

{Whatever happens to you / You're safe with me}

'Safe With Me' starts drifting out. He notices you humming along with it as you fiddle with his mangled arm. A hauntingly dark melody, heavy and slow. Yet the lyrics speak nothing but protection. He wondered how exactly your choice of music is so deep and dark. Is it personal taste? Past experiences?

Soldering up metal, and retying up wires, you swiftly work away on the poor arm. Making sure your movements are fluid but also steady. Years of woodworking and a degree in furniture design has taught your hands well.

{But who's going to pick you up when your body is broken?}

You pause for a moment. Ironic song. Pushing the universe's way of laughing at you away, you go back to welding Optimus up.

Your pause doesn't escape from Optimus. After all, all he can do is stare at you. He's thinking the same, albeit more optimistic. He's thankful. Utterly thankful that you picked up his body. That you're keeping him safe. A swell of emotion rises up to his spark, flaring his spark harder. Who will protect you when your body is broken?

{This is my place / No one can ever hurt me.}

No one will ever hurt her. He frowns his optic ridges as he promises to her silently.

Finishing up his arm and giving him a pat on it, you tell him you'll work on his chestplate and to bear with you about the pain. Crawling up onto him, knees spread apart as you straddle his chest digging under the glass window.

He can't see you. The headlight obscuring his vision. But he can feel you. He feels your legs split on him, your weight distributed on his chassis. It's hardly there, yet it is all he can focus on. The light weight of the human pulling in all of his sensory net to focus on it.

{With the touch of your hand / I lose who I am / If I want to}

Shuffling your arms down into him, waist bent like a cat stalking it's next prey, as you peering in to his plating. With your headlights guiding, you connecting cables and welding up gashes. Careful as you go, as you know everything here is sensitive.

{You should be higher / I'll take you higher / Don't be afraid / You just have to pray}

He wants her higher. You're already up above him working away, but Optimus wants more. He wants to place you in a place where no one can reach. Where only he can touch you.

He struggles to push these thoughts away. It's increasingly difficult as he feels your hair drape off your shoulder and onto his chestplate. A soft tingle of sensation as you wiggle around on top of him, mending his wounds. A lustful feeling as well as protectiveness battles in his spark. The very same spark you're so close to.

When you deem you have done a satisfactory job, you pull your body back up, rolling your hips back to sit up at Optimus. He's got his helm turned away from you, but that doesn't bother you. You figured he would be uncomfortable. Attempting to soothe him, you run your hand across his plating a couple times, as you slide off him back onto the ground.

Servos clutched, He curses he isn't healthy enough to just take you here and now. He can barely move, let alone do anything strenuous. The soft touches meaning to comfort him only runs more shocks down his spinal strut. He pushes down that feeling in his vocalizer as he watches you slide off, his frame running hot wherever your bum slid off.

He needs Ratchet. He may be out of critical condition, but he's in no condition to even grasp a human. And it drives him crazy. He needs to be back at full strength.

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "SUNDAY"

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: felix + reader are intended to be 17-18, established relationship, fluff, roughhousing (playfully) important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction.

heyaaa im so happy to finally post this first chapter! im currently craving summer so bad since i live in canada so hopefully this helps to mimic the feeling :( but in honor of it being officially summer in australia here's a fic! please take some time to read the series masterlist as well! enjoy!

next

chapter under the cut! ~5k words

sunday (day 1) - 6:00pm

“wake up, sleepyhead.” a deep voice broke through your dreams. a voice more familiar than your own heartbeat. in the midst of your slumber, a hand that belonged to said voice, gripped your arm and shook you vigorously. “i have something to show you.” the shaking became more insistent.

you groaned, consciousness slowly seeping back in as the world around you began to sharpen. you began to feel the material of the hammock beneath you and the gentle sway that earlier lulled you into deep sleep. but then, there was something else. a cold sensation, as if something was dripping on your neck and shoulders. you scrunched your face and slowly opened your eyes, blinking against the brightness.

as your eyelids fluttered open, leaning over you was your boyfriend, casting a shadow to block the evening sun from your face. this was the same boy you had known since middle school, back when he was a short, lanky kid with a smattering of freckles across his nose. now, here he was, grown out of puberty which made his features more defined but still holding that boyish charm you had fallen in love with. 

as much as you were happy to see him, he had woken you from a sleep so deep you wouldn't have been able to hear an atomic bomb if it had gone off. not to mention, you were in the middle of a dream—quite a scary one where a rabid, 20 foot bear was chasing you. you were half glad to be snapped out of that nightmare, but the other part of you was decidedly groggy.

“what do you want,” you mumbled with a rasp in your voice while rubbing your eyes to better your vision. then it all came together. your boyfriend, with his stupidly long wet hair, was towering over you. “felix.” you whined.

his face lit up with sudden realisation as he looked down at himself, noticing the trail of salt water he had been inadvertently dripping all over your shirt. “oh, sorry.” felix flashed you a bashful smile before turning away from you to dry his hair with the towel hanging around his neck.

you sighed heavily, reluctantly swinging your legs over the side of the hammock and feeling the hot sand beneath your feet. you took this moment to glance towards the ocean, where the sun was approaching its horizon, then you looked over at felix, who was scrunching his hair dry. water droplets clung to his newly tanned skin as he was probably out surfing beforehand. you had only arrived at the beach house a couple of hours ago and the first thing felix did after unpacking was drag you out to the shore to surf. while he eagerly plunged into the waves, you had opted to watch him from the hammock since you were far too tired after a 3 hour drive from sydney. 

once he was done with his hair, he hung the towel on the tree supporting your hammock and turned back to you with a smile. “you’ve been out for the past hour, sleepyhead,” he teased.

“you really didn’t have to wake me up,” you retorted, looking up at him.

felix chuckled, shaking his head. “it’s already 6:00 pm. you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if you took such a long nap,” he said, his tone gentle.

you sighed, knowing he was probably right. "fine," you conceded, standing up and stretching your arms. "what’s this amazing thing you need to show me?”

oh how he loved that question.

“remember that seagull’s nest we saw while i was giving you a tour around the house?” he asked with that mischievous smile you knew far too well.

“yes?” you replied, raising an eyebrow and extending the word sceptically.

“i think i saw some eggs in there,” he said, his eyes wide with excitement.

“really?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and your lips curving into a smile.

“i’m certain,” he replied, taking your hand. “come on!”

you stood up from the hammock, which let out a soft squeak in protest. slipping on your sandals, you slid your arm under his and locked them together. you smiled up at him, and he chuckled at your reaction. your friends back in school often told you that you and felix were children snuck in a teenager’s body. there were often times where you two would get excited or laugh over the littlest things.

“so now you’re all jolly,” he teased. “a few seconds ago you looked like you wanted me dead for waking you up from your beauty sleep.”

you gazed upward in thought before speaking, “well that was until you mentioned the seagulls.”

felix scoffed and shook his head, a playful smirk on his lips, before reaching up to ruffle your hair. you and felix continued to chat about random things as you walked, the sky gradually darkened with each passing minute. as you neared the beach house, felix glanced up at the roof. his eyes sparkled with curiosity, the fading light casting soft shadows across his face.

“i’m sure you won’t be able to see it well from here. let me give you a lift,” he said. 

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get a word out, felix was already crouching down in front of you. did he really expect you to sit on his shoulders? the last time you tried something like this, it was in the school hallway, and it ended with both of you making a not-so-graceful visit to the nurse's office. 

“are you serious?” you asked, incredulous, remembering the chaos of that day. “you’re not gonna ram me into something again, are you?”

felix just grinned down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “come on, that was one time. what’s the worst that could happen right now?” he teased. with a dramatic sigh and a roll of your eyes, you carefully climbed onto his shoulders, letting out a yelp as he stood up, lifting you high into the air. “i got you,” felix reassured you with hands firmly holding onto your legs as you rested your hands on his head, feeling his soft blond locks between your fingers.

you gently pushed on your boyfriend’s head to steady yourself and extend your view, peering over the edge of the roof. there, nestled in the corner, was a nest. however, it wasn’t the typical bowl-shaped nest you remembered from childhood cartoons; instead, it was a haphazard construction of twigs and branches. 

then, you saw them—three large, spotted eggs nestled snugly in the centre of the nest. your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

“do you see them?” felix asked, moving closer to the roof so you could get a better view.

“yeah! they’re quite big!” you exclaimed. “how did you even know they were here? you’re surely not very tall,” you teased with a grin.

“i will drop you,” he threatened in a half-serious tone.

“you wouldn't dare,” you lectured.

“i saw a seagull nesting here earlier,” he replied, addressing the real question.

“hold on,” you said, fishing out your tiny digital camera from the pocket of your jean shorts. your mom had owned that camera since before you were born, and it took the nicest pictures. you already carried it around with you everywhere. it was part of the reason you always chose to wear pants with pockets in the mornings. you snapped a picture of the eggs and handed the camera to felix, knowing he was just as eager to see.

“wow, look at that!” he said, chuckling as he admired the photo.

“we’ve got to name them,” you declared suddenly.

felix raised an eyebrow. “name the eggs?”

“of course! they can’t just be nameless.”

felix laughed, shaking his head. “alright, what are we naming them?”

you looked at the eggs thoughtfully. “how about alvin, simon, and theodore? trust me, i can remember which one is which,”

suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a seagull glided by right beside you, slicing through the air with a loud squawk. its wing grazed your arm as it flew so close that your heart leapt in surprise. startled, felix lost his balance, and both of you tumbled to the ground with a soft thud, cushioned by the sand. you swore you could see the concern washed over felix’s face.

“are you okay?” he asked immediately, his voice filled with worry.

in the moment, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “yeah, are you?” you replied between giggles.

he broke into a smile and nodded, then glanced over at the seagull, which had settled protectively over her eggs. “i know you’re a good mom,” felix remarked, “but we,” he pointed between the two of you, “we come in peace!”

just then, your ears perked up at the creak of the back door opening and both your heads turned simultaneously toward the sound. you saw a sandal step onto the deck, followed by another. it was felix’s mom, flashing a big smile and wearing a beautiful blue floral dress that flowed gracefully like waves rippling on a serene lake, catching the light of the evening sun.

“hey, lovebirds!” she called out with a warm smile, her voice carrying the kind of pitch that made you feel instantly at home. “what are you two up to?”

“just making friends with the local wildlife,” he joked, then grinned and motioned toward the seagull on the roof with a nod of his head. his mom looked where he pointed and sighed. felix chuckled, standing up and brushing his hands together before extending one to you. 

“that seagull has eggs in her nest!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with excitement. you turned to felix’s mom, practically bouncing like a little girl. “isn’t that amazing?”

felix chuckled at your enthusiasm, and his mom cooed, her eyes softening with affection. “that’s wonderful. well come eat, darling, felix's dad is making dinner.”

he helped you to your feet, and together you walked toward the beach house. as you approached, the aroma of grilled food wafted through the air, seasoned with a mix of mouth watering herbs and spices. stepping inside, you were greeted by the cool, refreshing breeze of air conditioning which was a delightful contrast to the heat outside.

felix’s beach house was gorgeous. large windows let the last rays of sunlight stream in, casting a warm glow over the room. the wooden ceiling and numerous plants added a rustic charm, making the place feel incredibly inviting. you slipped off your sandals, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your feet. with felix still holding your hand, you made your way to the dining room table and both sat down beside each other.

the scents from the kitchen mingled in the air—the smoky tang of the grill, the rich aroma of seasoned vegetables, and the faint sweetness of something baking. 

a few moments later, his mother joined you, carrying a bowl of fresh berries. "here you go," she said with a warm smile, setting the bowl down. "dinner will be ready in just a minute."

“thank you,” you replied.

“thanks, mum,” felix added, taking a strawberry from the bowl. he held it to your mouth, and you opened up, taking it with a playful smile. you felt the moist water from the freshly washed fruit on your lip as you gently parted them, felix’s finger lightly brushing against your mouth. 

his mother, however, seemed preoccupied with something else. her gaze shifted to the floor, and her brows furrowed. “felix, you have to stop bringing sand into the house. it’s very unclean,” she scolded gently.

felix followed her gaze, looking down sheepishly at the trail of sand he had inadvertently tracked in from the beach. his face flushed slightly. “sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “i’ll clean it up.”

his mother sighed, her features softening into a smile. “it’s fine, just try to be more careful next time,” she said, her tone more forgiving. she glanced at the bowl of fruit and then back at you and felix, “now, enjoy the fruit. dinner will be ready soon.”

his mother then stood up and headed to the kitchen where her husband was. felix grabbed two blueberries and popped them into his mouth before pulling out his phone, clicking on his browser app.

"whatcha looking up?" you asked, curious.

"just checking something," he said, typing. the search bar read, how long does it take for seagull eggs to hatch? "up to three weeks?!" he read aloud. "you’re only staying for another week. what if they don’t hatch by the time you’re gone?"

you shrugged, having no solution up your sleeve, "i guess you’ll just have to send me pictures."

"but i can't reach my phone up there. who am i gonna carry on my back when you're not here?" felix pouted, his lips curling into a slight frown as he glanced out the window where the seagulls often flew by.

"i'm sure you have a perfectly sturdy ladder in the garage," you replied.

felix shook his head, his expression turning serious. "i'm scared of ladders," he confessed, his eyes wide with genuine concern. the room seemed to grow quieter as he spoke, his voice breaking the stillness.

you burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the walls. "really?" you asked.

he nodded solemnly, the seriousness of his face contrasting with your laughter. "yep. i’m much more comfortable with you on my shoulders," he said.

"well, i guess you'll have to face your fears or find another way," you teased back, a mischievous glint in your eye. "maybe you can make a deal with the mama."

felix laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "yeah, i'll negotiate with her. she could let me borrow her babies for a quick photo op."

you chuckled at the thought. "after she literally made us tumble over each other today," you reminded him, recalling the earlier incident with said seagull.

his eyes suddenly widened, as if a bright lightbulb had illuminated over his head. “you know, we could build a pulley system with a basket. you get in the basket, and i pull you up to the roof so you can install one of my old security cameras.”

you gave him a sceptical look, the idea sounding ridiculous. “felix, that sounds like something out of a cartoon. how about this? we train a squirrel to climb up there and take the pictures for us.”

felix laughed again, the sound blending with the gentle hum of the ceiling fan above. “and you say i sound like a cartoon?”

“okay, what else then?" you prompted.

"what if i just get a selfie stick?” he suggested, winking with a spark in his eyes.

“that’s actually not a bad idea,” you said, considering it. 

felix grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “see? i'm coming up with some solid plans here.”

"maybe you are," you admitted, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder.

then, from the kitchen, his father's voice called out, "dinner's ready!"

sunday (day 1) - 9:00pm

you were washing the last of the dishes, the gentle hum of the evening settling around you. the soft clinking of plates and the distant sound of waves created a soothing background melody. felix stood next to you, his hands drying and stacking the clean dishes. as you glanced out the window, the vibrant hues of the setting sun caught your eye. the sky was a stunning canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, each colour blending seamlessly into the next. it was one of those moments that felt almost magical, as if the universe had painted the sky just for you.

“look, felix! the sunset!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe.

felix turned his head, his eyes widening at the sight of the breathtaking sunset. the golden light bathed his face, casting a warm, ethereal glow that seemed to accentuate every detail of his features. you found yourself staring, mesmerised by how the sunlight danced on his skin, highlighting the sharp contours of his jawline and the subtle curve of his lips. the light caught in his eyes, making them sparkle with a deep, captivating intensity that seemed to draw you in.

“it’s beautiful.” he smiled softly, his voice a deep rumble that broke through your daze. 

you realised you had been staring too long, caught up in the mesmerising sight of him bathed in the sunset's golden light. quickly, you looked away, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “we should go outside. are you done?”

felix glanced at the dishes, then back at you. “yeah,” he replied instantly, drying the last spoon with a flourish before placing it neatly on the rack. 

you grabbed his wrist, your excitement bubbling over. “come on, let’s go!” you urged with a small squeal. felix chuckled, allowing himself to be pulled along as you both slipped on your shoes by the back door. the moment your feet hit the cool wood of the porch, the chilly evening breeze kissed your skin, carrying the fresh scent of sea.

as you stepped outside, the beauty of the scene before you took your breath away. felix stood beside you, his presence warm and comforting. you glanced at him, catching the awe in his eyes as he took in the breathtaking view. the fading light outlined his silhouette, making him look almost otherworldly in the twilight glow.

“race you to the shore!” you burst out suddenly. without another word, you sprinted down the wooden steps of the porch, your bare feet hitting the cool sand as you made a beeline for the beach. your laughter rang out, mixing with the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore. the sand was soft beneath your feet, each step feeling like gentle feathers as you ran.

felix wasn’t far behind, his footsteps quick and sure as you could hear him closing the gap. just as you reached the firmer, wet sand near the water’s edge, felix caught up. with a swift motion, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. you let out a loud squeal, your heart racing with excitement and happiness.

he spun you around, the world becoming a blur of colours—orange, pink, purple, and blue—as the sky and ocean seemed to merge into one stunning panorama. the cool breeze whipped through your hair, and you could feel the warmth of felix’s hands on your sides, grounding you in the moment. when he set you down gently on the sand, your legs felt like jelly from the sprinting.

breathing heavily, you both collapsed onto the sand, sitting side by side, facing the horizon. the sky was a masterpiece, with deep purples and rich blues blending seamlessly with the fiery oranges and soft pinks of the sunset. the water mirrored this stunning array of colours, creating a dazzling display that seemed to stretch infinitely before you. the waves glowed with the reflected light, each crest catching a hint of the vibrant sky, creating a dance of colours on the water's surface.

the air was cool and crisp, filled with the salty tang of the sea and the earthy scent of the sand. the distant call of seagulls and the soft whisper of the wind were the only sounds, adding to the serene atmosphere. 

“this is perfect,” you whispered, leaning against felix. his warmth was comforting as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, the faint scent of his cologne lingering.

“yeah,” he agreed, his voice soft. “it really is.”

as you both sat in comfortable silence, the world seemed to pause for a moment. the gentle waves lapping at the shore and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze were the only sounds, creating a peaceful lullaby that surrounded you. in the distance, a group of seagulls caught your eye. their silhouettes were stark against the colourful sky, their graceful flight patterns mesmerising as they dipped and dove over the calm water.

a mischievous grin spread across your face as you turned your gaze to felix. “which one do you think knocked up the seagull?” you asked, barely able to keep a straight face.

felix's eyes widened in horror. “oh my gosh, you freak!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief while laughing. “you can't just say things like that!”

you laughed along with him, the sound echoing across the quiet beach. “you know for a fact that you're even worse than me,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. 

"you know, i still can't believe we have the house to ourselves for a whole week," felix murmured, his voice a low, warm rumble that made your heart skip a beat. the reality of being alone together, with no one else around, felt surreal.

"me neither," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. felix chuckled softly, the sound resonating through your chest and making you feel a pleasant warmth spread from your heart. "what?" you asked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up into his eyes. they were sparkling with mischief, a clear sign that he was thinking about something unorthodox.

"nothing," he said, shaking his head, his smile widening. you knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"oh my gosh, felix, stop it," you groaned, rolling your eyes. the things he could come up with were always so unexpected, yet so typical of him.

he laughed harder. "i didn't say anything!" he protested, grinning from ear to ear.

"you're such a freak," you teased, playfully pushing him in the chest. the contact was light, your fingers brushing against his soft skin, but it felt like an electric current passing between you.

felix pushed back gently, his touch light and teasing. "you're the one thinking weird things. you made the seagull joke too. i never said anything!" his grin was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along with him.

shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile. "i can't believe your parents are trusting you with the house for a whole week," you said.

felix placed his hand on his chest in mock offence, his expression exaggerated. "hey!" he exclaimed. "i'll have you know i'm very responsible. plus," he added, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "i've got to make sure you have the best time ever."

his parents were leaving the next evening to visit new zealand for the summer. they decided to stay at the beach house for a day before their departure because it was conveniently close to the airport. his parents were going abroad for a week to attend a friend's wedding in thailand, initially leaving felix alone until he decided to invite you. it was special to him that you were here, sharing this beloved part of his life as it gave him a chance to create new memories with a girl that meant so much to him.

felix threw his head back, eyes lighting up as he gazed at the night sky, dotted with countless stars. "there's so much i want to show you," he said. the beach was like his second home, a place where he had spent every summer since he was born. this place was filled with memories of salty breezes, endless days under the sun, and nights spent stargazing. for felix, this beach house wasn't just a summer retreat; it was a treasure trove of cherished moments.

you smiled and squeezed his hand. "and i can't wait to see everything," you replied.

he squeezed your hand back, a broad smile spreading across his face. "you're going to love it," he promised. "there's this hidden cove i found last year, and we have to watch the sunrise from the cliff. it's the best view in the world." his eyes sparkled with the same wonder and awe he must have felt when he first discovered these places. "oh, and we can go paddleboarding! the water is so clear, you can see all the way to the bottom!"

"wow, you really have everything planned out, huh?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "it's like you're my personal tour guide or something."

felix paused, a slightly sheepish look crossing his face. he scratched the back of his head, a small, nervous laugh escaping his lips. "well, i guess i am," he admitted, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze. "i just... i really want this week to be special. you mean a lot to me. it's not every day i get to show someone my secret spots," he said, a playful glint returning to his eyes.

“you’re such a sap.”

“only for you,” he replied, his tone as light as a feather.

you then found yourself gazing into his eyes, losing yourself in the depths of the beautiful brown shade. the rich, warm colour was captivating, reflecting the soft glow of the fading sunset. his eyes seemed to hold an entire world of emotion, and in that moment, you felt like you could see into his soul. your eyes trailed down to his lips, noticing how soft and inviting they looked. he shuddered slightly under your gaze, his breath hitching as he felt the intensity of your stare. his eyes flickered to your lips as well, and then back to your eyes, silently seeking permission. when he saw that your eyes remained locked onto his lips, without another word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you.

as your lips touched, a gentle breeze swept over you both, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and the faint fragrance of blooming flowers from the nearby dunes. the cool air contrasted sharply with the warmth radiating from felix's skin, sending a shiver down his spine and giving him goosebumps over his bare torso. the sensation of his warm skin under your fingers was electrifying, sending a tingle through your body. 

you pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against his, feeling his breath mingle with yours in the small space between you. felix smiled softly, his eyes full of tenderness, before leaning in to kiss you again. this time, the kiss was deeper, more intense, and his hand reached up to cup your face as if you were the most fragile and precious thing on earth. his thumb gently caressed your cheek, the touch so light and tender that it sent a thrill through you.

you couldn't help but bring your own hand up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk. the sensation was soothing, grounding you in the moment. as you pressed closer, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting and exhilarating all at once. in a playful move, you pushed felix back onto the sand which made him let out a surprised "oof,"

climbing on top of him, your bodies fit together perfectly, as if they were made for each other. you continued to kiss him, your lips moving in sync. felix brought his hands up to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your skin, sending a delightful shiver through you, his touch both gentle and possessive. 

just then, a loud squawk from the seagulls broke the spell. the birds, perhaps sensing the intimate moment, seemed to call out in a raucous chorus, as if interrupting the two of you. you couldn't help but stop and giggle, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. felix's eyes softened, gazing at you with pure love. at that moment, he swore you were the most precious thing in the world. the way your laughter lit up your face, the crinkle of your eyes, and that adorable squeak—it all made you you. 

“you're so cute," he blurted.

surprised by his words, you looked at him with raised eyebrows. "where did that come from?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips. your laughter had left a soft flush on your cheeks, making you look even more radiant in the fading light.

felix's eyes softened, gazing at you with pure love. he blushed, a bashful smile spreading across his face as he buried it in the crook of your neck, trying to hide his embarrassment.

you looked down at him, confused. "felix, what are you doing?"

he pulled back slightly, meeting your gaze again. "i don’t know i just—i think i..." he began but didn't finish. the words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. he wanted to tell you how deeply he felt, how much you meant to him. he wanted to say it, but those three short words got caught in his throat.

"you what?" you prompted gently, your eyes searching his.

felix hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if trying to find the right words. but instead of speaking, he leaned in and kissed you again. you laughed softly against his mouth, your hands resting on his chest and as you pulled away, a mischievous glint danced in your eyes. felix looked at you with curiosity, propping himself up on his forearms as you climbed off him. "where are you going?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

without a word, you began to take off a layer of clothing, tossing it onto the sand until you were left in your bikini, letting the cool evening breeze brushed against your skin. "come on!" you called out, dashing toward the water, the sand cool and soft under your feet.

felix's eyes widened in surprise before a grin spread across his face. he quickly scrambled to his feet and chased after you, swiftly pulling his hoodie off. the water was warm, heated by the day's sun and retaining its gentle warmth even as night fell. 

felix reached you just as you splashed him playfully, the water catching the light from the moon and the stars above, casting a shimmering glow around you. he laughed, wiping the water from his face. with a quick move, he scooped you up in a bridal style carry, his strong arms holding you securely against his chest.

you squealed as he threw you into the water, the water enveloping you completely and you were submerged. for a moment, everything around you was muffled and you could taste the salt water you accidentally swallowed.

"felix, ow," you hissed as you came back up, brushing your hair out of your face, water droplets clinging to your skin as you held your arm.

panic flashed across his face, his eyes widening as he waded towards you. "oh my goodness, are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. 

unable to hold back your smile any longer, you lunged at him, causing him to lose his balance. you both tumbled into the warm water with a big splash. felix surfaced, shaking his head and laughing as he realised you had been faking. 

"oh, you are so done!" he exclaimed, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into him. you both fell again and created a huge splash in the water, your laughter echoing in the nighttime air.````

[libingan]

im still working on the christmas fic i swear (i havent written anything)

simon riley has a habit of rolling his eyes.

it’s subtle most of the time—a quick flick upward, barely noticeable under the shadow of his mask. but spend enough time around him, and you’ll catch on. the slight tilt of his head, the way his shoulders shift like he’s silently begging for patience, and the faint huff of air that escapes him—it’s all part of the package. no amount of tactical gear can disguise the way his eyes speak.

soap does something stupid?

simon rolls his eyes. it’s not that he doesn’t like johnny—he does, in his own gruff, begrudging way—but the scot has a talent for saying the most ridiculous things at the worst possible moments. whether it’s cracking a joke mid-briefing or yelling “ye’re welcome!” after barely defusing a bomb, simon’s patience is constantly tested. at this point, the eye roll isn’t even deliberate. it’s pure reflex.

gaz starts arguing about football?

simon rolls his eyes. he doesn’t even care what team kyle supports; every conversation spirals into heated debates about players, penalties, and who deserved a red card. simon’s not interested in the stats or who the “real goat” is, but he knows kyle won’t stop until someone gives in—or shuts him down. simon usually opts for the latter, punctuated by a muttered “bloody hell” and an exaggerated eye roll.

price gives him a long lecture?

simon rolls his eyes—just not where price can see. he waits until the captain’s back is turned, then tilts his head, staring at the ceiling like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. he gets it: someone screwed up (probably soap), but did they really need a 20-minute sermon about it? doubtful. still, he listens. sort of.

simon rolls his eyes at everything.

and when the team catches him doing it? they just roll their eyes right back.

[elleluvsjurin]

between us

synopsis: phone sex with kazuha and an added surprise

pairings: kazuha nakamura x fem!reader

cw: oral(idol rec.), nipple play, strap usage(r rec.), a hint of fluff, power bottom!fem reader

a/n: proofread? no, i pulled this fic out of my ass!

cis men or minors DNI

dating a model was not for the weak. you weren’t able to see your girlfriend every day or even talk to her every day. it’s been months seen you’ve last seen kazuha knowing that she’s across the world and working her ass off. you’re very supportive and proud of your stunning girlfriend. with not seeing her for months also comes with not being able to touch each other. however, you made sure none of that came between the two of you.

you decided to call her because you haven’t heard her voice in so long and you think it’s time that you two talk. the phone rings three times before she picks up.

“hey baby.” kazuha says on the phone and you softly smile.

“hi zuha, sorry for the sudden call..I just miss you.” you tell her, whispering the last part

“no no, you’re totally fine. maybe we should face time?” she asks

“sure, let’s do it.” you say clicking the button on your phone hearing the ringing sound of the Facetime app and then she appears. she’s wearing a white cropped top and jeans from her photoshoot, her long black hair cascades over her face but she quickly fixes up her hair so she can see your face as she sits in a car.

“god you look beautiful.” she says and you feel your face start to heat up from the compliment

“heh..thank you. you look even more beautiful than me. im sitting here in a nightdress” you mumble

“still, you look amazing.” Kazuha beams

“thank you.. where are you?” you ask

“i was going to get something to eat but i wanted to cater to your needs.” she says

“ok, then you should go ahead. we can call later.” you replied

“no! i want to see you and talk to you. we will stay on the phone. show me what you’re wearing, god I’ve been missing you.” kazuha answers

you prop the phone up on your vanity and you turn on the light exposing your dress. luckily for kazuha, you’re wearing nothing up under it.

“i just got out of the shower.” you say, awkwardly chuckling

“perfect. i can’t wait to get my hands all over you again.” kazuha says and you smile.

“well..why wait?” you say pulling down your dress, exposing your breasts. you nipples instantly hardening at the cool air from your place.

“my god..” kazuha softly mumbles. you giggle, grabbing the camera off the vanity and you lie on the bed, spreading your legs so she can see your soaked cunt.

“like what you see?” you ask innocently and she nods

“i love it.” she whispers. you take two fingers and your spread your pussy lips so she can see the inside of your cunt.

“mmmh i wish you were here..to show me who’s the boss.” you softly moan as you slowly stick one of your fingers inside of your warm hole. you hear her chuckle on the end of her line but she turns off her camera as you’re exposing yourself to her.

“hold on.” she says before ending the call.

you hear the door open and you instantly put your phone down to see who it is and it happens to be your girlfriend.

“zuha..i didn’t know you were coming.” you mumble while hugging her. she wraps her hands around your waist and presses her lips up against yours.

“i know, i wanted to surprise you.” she says, giving you a quick peck to the lips.

“mmh well you definitely did surprise me.” you say in a seductive manner, pulling off her jacket.

“oh? someone’s needy.” she replied, chuckling as you hurriedly pulled her into the shared bedroom

“oh yes i am.” you growl, pushing her onto the bed.

you softly kiss on her stomach, her abs flex for you, licking all over her. she pulls her shirt from over her head, exposing the black Calvin Klein sports bra, like a good girl, she takes it off.

“keep going, i like it when you’re in control.” kazuha mutters. you do as you’re told, you pull down her pants and eventually her boxers. she spreads her legs for you, you gulp when you see how wet her pussy for you.

you bend down at eye level with her cunt as you slowly spit on her clit. you start to lap her pussy with your tongue and kazuha whimpers. she grabs at your hair as you eat her cunt.

“f-fuck..don’t stop.” kazuha moans aloud while you stick your tongue in and out of her pussy, her juices spill all over your tongue during the act. kazuha throws her head back against the headboard. you eventually start to suck on her clit, your moans sending shockwaves to her cunt as she grips your hair tighter.

you lap away at her pussy, her juices spilling all over your tongue.

“just like that..gonna make me cum!” kazuha cries out. you pull away, sliding two of your fingers in her soaked cunt, automatically hitting her g spot. the squelching noises of her pussy alone could make you cum untouched. her moans echo through the walls as her legs twitch around your arm.

kazuha lets out a long, pornographic moan as she starts to cum on your fingers. you continue to pump your fingers in and out, helping her ride out her long awaited orgasm.

you softly blush, pulling your fingers out of her.

“that was so good.” kazuha mumbles, smiling lazily at you. you straddle her lap on the bed, pecking her soft lips

“mmh wasn’t it?” you say. she pulls you into a deeper kiss while she smacks your ass.

“need some more of you.” kazuha purrs in your ear

“oh?” you roll over on your stomach.

“want the strap?” she asks

“hmm…” you start, thinking to yourself. “…yes, let me ride, i wanna be in control.” you finish

“fine.” kazuha says, getting up to get to strap from the closet in your shared bedroom. you hurry up and strip out of your nightgown.

she takes a few minutes to completely put it on. she ends up laying on the bed to wait for you. you hurriedly climb on top of her slender body, sinking your tight cunt onto her silicone cock.

“god damn…” you softly moan out. kazuha grabs onto your hips while you start to move yourself up and down on her cock. you grabs her breasts while you start to bounce up and down on her cock.

“you look so sexy.” kazuha mumbles, looking up at you.

“mmf- feels so good zuha~” you whimper. your legs give out and kazuha wraps her arms around your waist, starting to thrust up into you while you grab her face, sloppily kissing her lips.

“f-fuck!” you moan out as she pumps her cock into you, hitting your g spot with each thrust. your skin claps against hers while you roll your eyes to the back of your head. you wrap one of your hands around her neck while she thrusts into you.

“y-yes..” she moans as your legs start to tremble.

“mmh..almost there, zuha” you moan in her ear, while she smacks your ass.

“shit, give it to me~.” she moans while you bounce up and down, matching her thrusts.

“a-ah!” you moan aloud, curling your toes as your orgasm runs through your entire body. after kazuha is done, she pulls out of your spent cunt.

you get off of her lap to help with taking off the harness before you throw it across the room, you will be cleaning it soon but for now you want to spend some time with your girlfriend.

you softly kiss her cheek before mumbling, “such a cute soft dom!” you beam as she’s normally in control in the bedroom, however tonight was much different.

“stop..” kazuha says with a hue of pink beginning to form on her cheeks.

“never.” you whisper before twirling a piece of her dark strand of hair around your fingers. you lay across her body, both of you holding each other.

you kiss your gf one last time, forcefully dragging yourself out of bed to start the night routine for the two of you.

a/n: everyone knows i suck at ending fics! but anyways it’s been 4 weeks since ive released something so this was super rushed, i want to try and release a fic for Christmas!!

[nebuladreamz]

A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN

This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops

But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.

So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D

@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa

@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez

@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid

@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff

@cacaocheri

(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)

AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT

@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn

@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts

@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1

@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide

[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Danny Phantom Memes for a fic i haven't posted (yet)

[aka-indulgence]

Hello @llamagoddessofficial :> Wrote another fanfic fanfic for you! I really love the good zoo siren au as someone who does some marine biologies, and I had a burst of inspiration so I wrote the first day working at the aquarium :D I loved writing the parallels hehee

—————

You were a janitor in the Ebott aquarium!!

Which, when you say out loud, does sound underwhelming. But you didn’t mind it. You had come to them in the hopes of becoming an intern, a volunteer, or a staff if things went your way. The lady at the information desk (who was very helpful), had looked quite apologetic when you asked her.

“I’m sorry… but we’re not looking for anymore creature carers at the moment.”

It was quite disappointing, but you weren’t expecting to get accepted straight away, anyway. And you’d already bought a ticket anyway, so you still had an aquarium day all to yourself, not like you were wasting your day. And you had a great day! If you weren’t caring for the animals directly, you were reassured by the fact that your payment is going to contribute to their care.

The day became even better when the lady recognized you on the way out and stopped you.

“We don’t have positions for carers right now, but… how would you like to be a cleaner? I’ll keep you up to date if there are any spots open.”

Naturally, you took it. It wasn’t like you had anything pressing for your schedule right now. As soon as a position opens- whatever it is- you were going to take it by the throat.

It was your first day. You were blasted with warmth as soon as you went in, having to quickly shed your winter clothes for the janitor uniform. It had little fish on the sleeves, which was a cute touch. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, of course. You spent more of your hours in the toilet than you did in the exhibit rooms. But any agitation you got from coming into a stall, only to see tissues strewn about on the floor like someone just blew up a roll after you had just cleaned; was quickly washed away when you went out, to the cool blues, the dancing lights cast in the darkened rooms. Even when you had to excuse yourself in front of the guests to wipe a drink spill in front of the giant ‘Pacific Bay’ aquarium, the music calmed your soul.

It wasn’t very quiet in the afternoon, what with the families and their 300 toddlers running about and crying babies. But when the day waned and the water glimmers dimmed, the one’s left were adults, couples. Then of course, the aquarium closed.

You worked up a sweat that clung to your uniform uncomfortably, after you scrubbed a mysterious stain on the floor leading to the gift shop that seemed to seep into the shiny tile, somehow.

“Hey, Julia?” You called; the lovely information lady that allowed you to have this opportunity in the first place; wandering about the empty entrance to check out. It felt like a bit of a ghost town all of a sudden, as you roamed the aquariums for any management-type people you could ask for help.

“I’m done, right? What should I…”

You stop when you walk by a doorway, into a room that was always darker than the rest, even when the sun was still up in the sky.

… You could walk back into the dinky staff room in the back of the building where they just gave up on aesthetics, a ‘modern’ and unsightly concrete structure. But… you could also just… say that you didn’t find anyone… right? And just… ‘got lost’... in the Deep Seas room…

Looking around, holding a cloth to your heart as if someone was going to chastise you if you hadn’t, you snuck into the room. It was hard to pass up on an opportunity like this.

Ebott aquarium was special, after all. They were one of the few aquariums in the world that had sirens. Three, to be in fact. One orca siren, one shark siren, and a deep sea cecaelia. A spectacular cast, to be sure- it wasn’t a surprise how they won so many awards over the years.

This room in particular was the cecaelia’s, the most reclusive of all the sirens.

You walked past the languid isopods, the floating nautilus, the sparkling comb jellies, to a giant opening in the room where the ceiling extended so you could see the entire tank in all its glory.

It usually looked empty, of course, but the few chances you get to see the cecaelia, it would be a shame to be unable to see him.

Though, as it was now, the tank looked uninhabited, as it usually was. This siren in particular was ‘shy’, though shy wasn’t the right word. It was more that he didn’t like being looked at, as to be expected with deep sea specieses.

Which is why this was the perfect opportunity for you. Julia told you about him- that he was more likely to emerge during after hours. They had cameras in the viewing room, for the purpose of recording his activity whenever he does something interesting to show visitors that he is in fact real, and they aren’t just displaying an empty tank for fun.

The TV display is off now, but you remember the video they posted online, where the most exciting thing that happened was him shooting out of the cave to grab the food they lowered into his tank, before quickly retreating back into the cave. There were screams of children and adults alike going wild.

You read the information board next to the TV.

Skull, Deep Sea Cecaelia

Sirenus cecaelia aequor

Ebott’s most recently acquired siren, Skull was found floating near the surface, a sign of disease or weakness in deep sea sirens. It is our belief that Skull recently acquired the crack in his skull. This may have caused him to grow uncontrollably, though our researchers argue that it might as well be due to deep sea gigantism.

Not much is known of deep sea cecaelias as of now, as they are the rarest encountered sirens in human history, and extensive observation we do have is in captivity, like Skull. 

They are as enigmatic as they are beautiful, deep sea cecaelias are believed to live a mostly solitary life……

Your eyes scan through the text- having read most of it from the other day visit. Your sight is caught on the plaque  next to the board, under the TV. You hadn’t noticed it before, with how full the room was. Boarded with wood and written on a golden plate, it reads:

In memory of Henry Freeman.

1975-20XX

Your squint when the gold plating starts shimmering a pinkish hue. And, did it get darker?

You follow the direction of the light to see…

“Whoa-lly shit!” You staggered.

Right there, against the glass, was Skull. He was big, you knew that, his size was listed right there on the board with a human outline next to his to show scale, and you’ve seen the videos of course- but that didn’t prepare you to see him in person.

Just his skeletal upper body dwarfed yours, bones thick and marred with scars of unknown battles deep below, where sunlight couldn’t reach. His pitch black tentacles waved around him like deep shadows in the darkness of the tank, suckers sticking and popping off the glass in tandem. At its base, a single tentacle was thicker than you were.

You held a hand up to your chest. Your heart had jumped at the giant shadow, that glowing red eye of his, the size of your fist, zeroing on you, and a great big smile full of characteristically sharp deep-sea teeth. It must’ve been instinctual fear, having a great predator looking at you, so close, only separated by a couple inches of glass.

The tips of his front tentacles were poking and tapping on the glass.

The initial adrenaline of fear quickly turned to curiosity and awe. You’ve never seen him with your own two eyes before, let alone so close- why was he out? Did he notice the empty room, and the lone ‘prey’ turned away from him and just lunged..?

“Hahahah, am I lucky to be on this side of the glass,” you joked, approaching the glass.

His eye stayed trained on you as you approached, his smile widening. He even lowered his head a little, like he was trying to get on eye level with you.

“Can’t tell if you’re curious about me or if you just really really want to eat me,” you giggle, at the way he was focused on you.

You pressed your hand to the glass, and practically squished your nose to it as you took him in. You could imagine the sounds those great big tentacles were as they moved like midnight waves.

You pull your head back in time to see his eye on your open palm against the glass. A great finger pointed to it, scratching the glass. Then… he presses his hand to the glass, right in front of yours.

Your mouth opens. Your hand just barely fits into his palm. You looked back to the cecaelia. This close, you could see all the little shift in his eyelight, flitting here and there, like he was paying close attention to the details in your face.

His eyelight cast a soft red on your face, your cheeks. A small glimmer in your eyes.

“This is…”

“Eeeeeee!”

You startle at the squeal, sounding like if a squeaky toy could get excited. When you turned around, you see a woman standing at the end of a hallway, in a white coat and white turtleneck,  looking very ready to walk in the cold.

“U-uh,”

“How did you,” she strode over to you, long blond hair bouncing as she did, “how did you get him to do that?”

“I’m- sorry?” you sputter. Looking behind you, Skull had retreated a few paces to the back of the glass. “I was just… just…” you shrug, making a face when you remember you’re still holding the cleaning cloth, hiding it behind your back.

“Magnificent!” she stood next to you, one hand on the glass. “We’ve never seen him so interested in a human before. You had him against the glass!”

Skull was swimming around, darting from one corner to the other, keeping his eye on the both of you.

“He’s never done that?”

“Never!” she turns to you, conviction in her voice. “Skull doesn’t like being looked at, he usually hides in his cave when someone walks into the room, not… approach and give them a greeting. The only reason he isn’t rushing back is because he recognizes my face as ‘someone who gives the food’. And like you see now, he doesn’t give me any special greetings. Just having him out and about while someone is in view is stunning, let alone…”

“Oh, so do you feed him?” you ask. Hopefully you weren’t going to get chewed out for dawdling in the aquarium when you’re supposed to be clocked out 30 minutes ago.

“I do help with the feedings.” She says, then extends a hand to you. “Call me Mildred. I’m the head of the aquarium.”

“The… the head?!” Your eyes widen as you shook her hand. “I’m… I’m (Y/n), it’s an honor! To meet you!”

“Oh, please, I’m much more interested in you!” She smiles, the lines around her lips wrinkled with age, evidence of a lively woman. “Say… are you the new cleaning service Julia picked up?”

“Y-yeah! I mean. Yes,” You corrected yourself. You were talking to the big boss here, and you were a little bashful to find that she knows about you.

“You said you wanted experience in animal and magical creature care, right?”

“Absolutely,”

She presses a finger to her lips, as if thinking for a moment. She casts her eyes to the exhibit, where Skull was still circling above. Then she looks at you with a playful smile.

“... How would you like to come into the siren care team?”

Your heart rate spikes, and you sputter.

“I… wh… hhhhhreally?!”

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[deadchannelradio]

descartes

t, gen, humor, 4.9k, 1/1

“It’s fine, Jason,” Dick says. “Chill out. I’m a grown adult, it’s not like Slade’s bothering a teenager anymore. It’s enrichment for me. I get a little shot of adrenaline and a bug treasure hunt. Sometimes he even makes me coffee.” “And you drink it?” “Well, yeah. It’s my fucking coffee, I’m not going to waste it.” “I’m going to kill him,” Jason decides aloud. “Next time I see that man, I’m gonna kill him.” “No, Jason, do not,” Dick says in the same tone Jason uses to tell his dog not to chew on his boots.

Read more on AO3

[lighthouseshepard]

writing idea - john gets considerably injured and doesn't tell arthur cause he thinks arthur would judge him cause "arthurs had so much worse happen and he just got back up" and arthurs like "dude you've had a human body for like two weeks i would expect you to not be used to pain" and its like a stereotypical hiding injury thing you know

HI HI thanks for this!! again i tried to keep it under 1k but. it ended up... 4.3k.....

heres a mostly unedited first draft i might play around with more later!! (: not so much a considerable injury but this is where my brain went anyways!

As John takes the stairs up to their small apartment building, Arthur in tow with one arm wrapped loosely around his just behind him, he stumbles.

It’s a quick, clean slip of his left ankle, rolling outward at an unnatural angle just as he reaches the last step. The movement itself would have been almost unnoticeable if not for the sharp stab of pain which accompanied it, a searing pressure radiating outwards in undulating bursts. He hisses under his breath, hurriedly letting Arthur go so as not to accidentally drag him down too, and tries to casually play off the lurch.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, righting himself. Immediately he bangs it against the cement edge, eliciting another silent wince he’s immensely grateful Arthur isn’t privy to. “Lost my footing, I guess.”

Arthur hums, instinctively reaching out for John’s guidance and huffing when none was received. Cautiously he takes the remaining steps, coming to stand just beside John at the top before the door.

“It’s alright, John,” he replies, head tilted in his direction. “Thanks for not pulling me down with you.”

His smile begins to fade after a moment of silence in which John stares dizzily at his own feet, struggling to control his breathing. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” comes the hasty retort. “I just… hit it on the stone, I think.”

His brow furrows. “Hit what?”

“My ankle,” John growls, blinking away spots of light dancing across his vision. In the dying sunlight they blended in amongst the cloudless sky, shimmering specks deceptively working to trip him up again as they wavered in front of him. As soon as the words leave his lips he regrets them. 

“I mean,” he clarifies, “I barely knocked it. Nothing to worry over.”

“Oh.” Arthur frowns, searching for John’s hand in the middle distance between them. “Do you want me to take a - well, not a look, but perhaps we could patch it up? Is it bleeding?”

“No.” John pushes slightly past him, fidgeting for keys in his pocket. Arthur’s arm is left hanging at his side, fingers lightly clenched. “I said it’s fine, Arthur. Can we drop it?”

“Okay,” Arthur mutters exasperatedly under his breath, following him hesitantly inside once the door is unlocked. “Whatever you say.”

John all but limps his way into the front hall. If the shuffle makes a noticeable sound against the faded rug he attempts to ignore it, desperately gritting his teeth. With each shift of his leg the throbbing increased, sending burning jolts of agony up through his foot. Beads of cool sweat were breaking out on his temples. Irritably he wipes them away, squinting into the living room through the haze of pain clouding the forefront of his mind.

“Stupid fucking ankle,” he mumbles.

 “What was that?” Arthur calls from behind him. John struggles to turn, one flattened palm braced against the wall. He watches as Arthur unwinds the scarf from around his neck, smoothly kicking off his shoes into the corner. Shoes that he, too, needed to probably remove if bending down didn’t seem like a far impossibility.

But he doesn’t answer. Instead he slowly twists back around, hobbling towards the promise of relief found in the couch awaiting him.

“John? Did you hear me?”

His eyes shut tightly as soon as he sinks into the cushions. The pain refuses to dull despite the lack of pressure once he sits, if anything only growing stronger when he attempts to prop it up on the coffee table, as though gravity were relentlessly trying to tug it down again for his own good. He groans, the noise pulled unbidden from his throat, and hastily covers it up with an aimless cough he feels as a weak imitation of one in his chest.

“John,” he hears a second time. Arthur’s voice is closer now, somewhere directly to his left. Although he turns his head in acknowledgement, his eyelids remain closed, brow furrowed. 

“What? I heard you.”

He could practically sense the crossed arms. 

“What’s going on?” Arthur asks, his tone firm. “Why are you sitting like someone threw you there and you don’t know how to get up?”

“How do you know that?"

"Lucky guess."

"Nothing’s going on. I’m… comfortable.”

“Really? You don’t sound like it.”

“I said it’s nothing,” John snaps. The wince which pulls his lips taut lessens any blow he’d intended within his retort. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“I thought you hit your ankle on the steps?” Arthur says thinly, stepping closer. “So which is it?”

It never ceased to irritate and amaze, Arthur’s ability to weasel the truth out of him. Back when he’d just been a voice behind those deep amber eyes it was magnificently easier to conceal the truth, hiding himself in falsehoods he had ample time to conjure up while Arthur slept or moved about the world amongst others, unable to talk to him. He hadn’t been bound to a body which would betray him at the slightest inconvenience: all his emotions, he felt, were visible on his face and in the lines of his silhouette all the time. Being given away by the twitch of his mouth or the hesitancy in one look of his eyes was maddening. He couldn’t control it, hadn’t yet mastered the subtle art of physical deception. He had no reason to, he knew, but it continued to bother him regardless, being so visibly and openly seen by everyone around him. Every thought was laid bare, ripe for someone else to pluck.

These visual cues didn’t apply to Arthur, of course, but it didn’t need to. It didn’t matter when it came to him. He could sense each ripple of truths withheld in John’s voice as though they were tangible vibrations running beneath his fingers, plucking incorrect notes from a string of music. Whether this was a skill gained through time or familiarity, he didn’t want to ask. Perhaps he’d just had plenty of practice, before John came along.

“It’s… both,” he says lamely, eyes flicking open to watch as Arthur shifts from one foot to the other impatiently. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he exclaims, a frustrated scoff behind his words. “I’m not even looking at you. I can’t.”

“Like you know exactly what I’m thinking,” John presses, willing himself not to wither beneath that sightless gaze. Like a parent, he thinks to himself, who’s just caught someone doing something they shouldn’t.

“Maybe I do.” Arthur comes to stand beside him, bumping up against the edge of the couch. “Maybe I’m just trying to help, you donkey. What is going on with you?”

“It’s-” he begins to say, but he’s quickly cut off.

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been like this all day: grumpy, antagonistic, walking… very oddly. Did you not sleep very well?”

“I slept fine,” John mutters. “How could you possibly know I was walking strangely?”

“Ah, so he admits something!” Arthur says with a scoff. “I can feel it along your arm when I’m holding onto you. The movement of your gait is different from anyone else - Noel, Oscar, even Marie. Your footsteps all sound unique, too. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying not to limp.”

The silence stretches. John breathes in shallowly, as if the quieter he became, the more likely he was to become invisible.

“John?” Arthur asks uncertainly. “Have you been limping all day?”

“I… not all day, Arthur.”

He sighs, a ragged exhale. “Jesus fucking Christ, John, I knew it!” he says, throwing his arms up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

John tries to prop himself farther up on the couch cushions, sliding the dead weight of his leg along the coffee table. “Because it’s not important, Arthur,” he protests angrily. “It’s just a - a sprained ankle or something! Noel says it happens to people all the time.”

“You told Noel?” Arthur’s demeanor shifts, and John can’t quite place where it was going. “Is that who you hung up on over the telephone yesterday, when I walked in?”

“I - yes, I told Noel,” John says, glancing away. “I didn’t want to… I mean, I wouldn’t-”

“But you didn’t tell me,” Arthur states, frowning. “I don’t understand, John.”

“Because I didn’t want to bother you with it, alright? Jesus fuck, Arthur! It’s just a little bit of pain!”

His shout rebounds around the living room, echoing along corners and twisting through the dark. Once it dissipates, all that nervous, fearful energy fading into thin air, John realizes the sun had already set. In the shadow of the singular lamp they’d kept on after they left earlier that day, Arthur looked smaller than John had ever seen him previously - socked feet, soft button down shirt untucked, shoulders slumped while his head was turned away from John’s direction.

Hurt, he understood after a solid minute of nothing spoken. There was hurt on his face.

“Arthur,” he says hastily, backtracking. “I didn’t…”

But Arthur was already interrupting.

“Is it bleeding?” he asks flatly. “From where you knocked it as we were coming in.”

John’s eyes widen. “What? No, no, like I said it’s probably just a sprain.”

“Don’t get up.”

“I wasn’t. Where are you going?”

He watches helplessly as Arthur begins to trod across the living room to the hallway just behind them. His left hand searches for the wall, brushing against it occasionally as he vanishes around the corner, the thin lines of his silhouette blending into the darkness. John waits with gritted teeth, listening to the faint but unmistakable sound of a drawer opening in the bathroom, before he’s rejoined in the living room.

“Give me your foot,” Arthur instructs. He comes around on the opposite side, taking a careful seat on the table in front of the couch. “Which one is it?”

“It’s… it’s this one,” John stutters, glancing at the little white box he’d placed between them. “What is that?”

“First aid kit. Came with the apartment, I think. Never thought I’d have to use it.”

There’s a bite to his tone which causes something in John to cower. Panicking at the unfamiliarity of the uneasy feeling, he thinks immediately to fight back against it. Yet no manipulation tactic in his mental catalog nor no insult he’d ever learned from Arthur was readily able to be wielded. He stares, unsettlingly dispirited, at Arthur’s hands while he begins to search through random items in the kit.

“Arthur.”

“Put your leg on my knees, John,” he says. He’s facing away, still wholly focused on determining which items were what through sensation alone. The subtle surprise when John does as asked without further complaint doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh. Thank you. Now tell me where it hurts.”

Stretching over as much as he was able, halfway balanced on the edge of the cushions and held now partially up by Arthur’s own legs, John indicates with one pointed finger. 

“Here,” he says, lightly touching the far side of his ankle. “Move your hand just - just there.”

As slender fingers come into contact with the swollen skin, John hisses. Arthur moves as if to draw back, but after some hesitation makes a second attempt with a touch so gentle John hardly senses the wandering examination at all.

“It’s swollen, John,” Arthur says, staring into the middle distance as he feels along the reddened skin. “You’re going to have to take your shoes off.”

“I know it’s swollen,” he grinds out, “I can feel it.”

Immediately he regrets the display of aggravation. Eyes flick worriedly to Arthur’s face, searching for any kind of reaction there, but he may as well have been surveying a blank canvas.

“I think we should try ice,” is all he says. “Before attempting any kind of compression. Wait here.”

“It’s not like I could go anywhere,” he mumbles beneath his breath as Arthur leaves him for the second time. “I’m not running a fucking race on this thing.”

When he returns, grasping a cloth wrapped bundle, John studies him curiously. Nervous muscles stiffen in preparation for another round of sharp throbbing; but as Arthur sits again opposite him, the grip which guides his foot is somehow even kinder than before, cradling the injury into position across his knees.

“Let me take your shoe off,” he murmurs. “I’ll be quick.”

"I’d rather you didn’t,” John protests. “Can’t we just - God, Arthur!”

No apology is forthcoming. It’s palpable in the tension of Arthur’s fingers regardless, the unhappy twist of his mouth. He fumbles the laces undone with one hand and slips the shoe off, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. One black sock follows. The hem of his trousers is rolled back up to his calf, delicately smoothed along by a soothing touch.

The introduction of cold is almost worse than the prodding he’d just undergone. John jolts as the cloth touches his skin. A pang similar to shattered glass ricochets across his foot and he has to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. Arthur holds him steady, other hand firm on his calf, bent over the injury.

“Easy,” he says quietly. “It’ll hurt for a minute or two, but this will help to numb some of the pain and swelling.”

“Numb?” John gasps, “or worsen? What even is that?”

Arthur readjusts the bundle. “Peas wrapped in a washcloth. You should know, you bought all the groceries last.”

“Why the hell would I buy peas? They’re repulsive.”

“Well I didn’t, and we don’t have ice in right now, so it’ll have to do.”

True to his word, after some uncomfortable minutes of silence, the throbbing begins to lessen. John sinks back in relief, a sweet dullness overtaking pain receptors which had not let up on their constant alarm for what seemed like eons now. Thoughts broken up by the unrelenting ache finally begin to clear. From behind the haze he sighs, tilting his chin up towards the ceiling. Long hair spills over the back of the cushions.

“That’s… much better,” he says weakly. “Thank you.”

“I imagine it is, yes… John?”

“Yes?” he answers, anticipation sitting nauseatingly in his gut. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you hurt your ankle?”

In the low light he steals a glance over. His vision was better than most - better than Arthur’s, when he had been able to see out of his eyes. Things came across with astonishing clarity, even when there was little illumination to help refine the world around him. John narrows in on the long pink scar across Arthur’s throat, an indelicate reminder of the Dreamlands, the incomprehensible weight of that last stand reduced to one single, jagged divide. His torn ear hid neatly enough behind reddish gold curls, but the mark across his face where those dangerous sands had scraped away the skin there was not so easy to miss. 

In the break between their conversation he rolled up his shirtsleeves and there too John could spot scars, dots and lines of invisible constellations, healed but not forgotten. The wooden pinky finger taps his ankle as he shifts the peas. John’s pinky, he thought. Or, it had been.

Everything about Arthur was a testament to some horror he’d survived, that they had survived together. And John, in this new body, had nothing to show for it.

“John?” Arthur asks. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” he argues. “It hurts.”

“Is this helping at all? We can always wrap it afterward. Hopefully it won’t need to be seen by anyone.”

There’s concern in his voice, so genuine despite the way he’d just been treated that something snaps just around John’s lungs, a sharp, bitter pull. Whatever he had been about to say dies under his tongue. Nothing comes out, although his lips part for several seconds.

“John?”

His restraint falters.

“I’m sorry, Arthur.” 

“...What?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, yanking the words agonizingly out. “It wasn’t my intention to lie to you from the start, I - I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what, John?” comes the baffled prompt. “That you injured yourself?”

“Yes,” he emphasizes. “I don’t even remember how I did it, I guess I just… stepped incorrectly? Tripped over something? I don’t fucking know, Arthur, and it’s so goddamned stupid. I can’t even control my own two legs! How am I going to keep existing in this body if I break under the slightest influence? It’s not like you get hung up over a fucking sprain, or don’t bounce back from a coma, or a car crash, or-”

“Hang on, John, wait,” Arthur interrupts. “Is that what this is about? Me?”

“Yes! No. I don’t know, Arthur. A bit of both?”

Frustration boils beneath his skin, hot and shimmering. The corners of his eyes prickle but he doesn’t move up to rub at the sting coiled there, waiting for release.

“You don’t let anything stop you,” he says, the living room blurring. “Gunshot wounds to the chest, electrocution, multiple stabbings, so many falls I’ve lost count-”

“Technically the gunshot would have killed me if not for the wraith, " Arthur offers feebly, but John doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Not even getting gutted through inside those mines in Addison! Not even my shitty job of sewing you back up.” He swallows, breathing heavily. “You’re practically fucking invincible, and meanwhile I take one wrong step and I’m incapacitated for days, can’t even take a stroll with you down the street, can’t carry you up to bed when you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa.”

Tears were flowing now, trickling in trails of shame down flushed cheeks. “It’s ridiculous. I witnessed you wade through literal nightmares, Arthur, and you did it without losing yourself. You still managed to laugh where you could, to have hope, and-”

The thought was running swiftly away from him. He twists sideways as far as he could, facing the other side of the room, held in place only by his ankle. Again wishing to disappear, again wanting to crawl back inside Arthur’s head where it was safe.

It takes Arthur far too long to respond. For some time nothing moves in their midst, save for the rapid rise and fall of John’s chest, the hitched cadence of his breathing. Eventually Arthur shifts. John listens to his clothes rustle and wonders when the floor would swallow him whole.

“John?” Arthur says softly. 

His jaw clenches. “What.”

“Look at me.”

Sniffing, he turns. The hand not keeping the frozen vegetables on his foot coaxes his chin up and over. Arthur’s touch doesn’t linger, giving him ample space. John wishes it would. Frustration continues to slip across his face, lines of damp salt.

“I didn’t react that way to all of those things because I wanted to, John,” he says gently. “I did so because I had to. I was surviving, trying to keep us both alive. What would have happened if I gave in and just laid down and let it all overtake me?”

John mulls it over. 

“Nothing,” he concludes, wiping angrily at one eye. “We wouldn’t have gotten very far.”

“Exactly. You think I didn’t struggle? You saw me, John, you saw through me!”

He laughs, the first bright sound to filter through the room since they’d come home, tinged by bittersweet memory. “You were there for every second of it. Remember me waking up from the coma? I could hardly drag myself out of the bed, much less walk. And everything else that’s happened to my body, well…”

Briefly he touches his stomach. “Sometimes I wonder how there’s any blood left in me. I feel patchy, like I’m just made up of gaps a person could see straight through. It all still aches, John. I’m aware of it all, every stupid mistake or scar or… whatever else Addison and the Dreamlands, all those monsters did to me; but if I refused to accept in some capacity, where would that get me? Fuck, I’d never leave the bed, and I’d have every right to do so. Why do you think I still sleep in some mornings?”

“You’re saying you’re hiding things too, then,” John says slowly. A flutter of remorse crosses Arthur’s smile, curving it downward. 

“Yes,” he nods. “A little bit. I didn’t want you to worry, John.”

“This is the same thing, then!” John exclaims. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“It’s not the same, but… it is similar, sure. I’m still figuring this all out, what to do now afterwards. I know we both are. I suppose we’re each guilty of something here, aren’t we?”

A mutter answers him, unintelligible. Arthur sighs, rubbing John’s leg placatingly. 

“I have experience with this kind of thing, John. You, frankly, do not. We don’t know how this body is going to react to the smallest of injuries, so when you’ve hurt yourself, or tripped, whatever, you need to tell me. I can’t help you if you’re so determined to be… stoically adamant that you can handle it.”

He winces. “No, poor choice of words. You’re more than capable of handling anything. The point here is that you don’t need to do it alone. I didn’t do it all by myself, either, even if it was our body at the time. I still had you there with me.”

“Okay,” John mumbles. The tears had stopped, drying in faintly gleaming tracks. Unable to help himself, he reaches over and directs Arthur’s free hand to his face. Arthur catches on quickly enough. One gentle thumb brushes the dampness away beneath both eyes.

“You said I didn’t lose myself in the midst of all that,” Arthur adds contemplatively, “but I did. You brought me back over and over. I won’t let you drown here, either. I guess we need to be more honest with each other in general.”

He flashes a small smile. “Works in progress, hmm?”

“Sure,” John says, wavering under that look. It was impossible not to. “Okay, Arthur. Thank you. I guess I…”

“Hmm?”

“I know it wasn’t easy, but you made it seem so effortless. I guess I wanted to be able to react the same way.”

“Nothing about being human is effortless, John. If it were easy, you’d be something else altogether.”

Neither are sure what else to say, so they choose to say nothing at all. Arthur removes the cloth, saturated with condensation. The swelling had gone down somewhat. Beneath the inflamed skin a dull ache persisted, but it was milder, simpler to deal with. Darkness shot through with distant city lights and a sliver of the rising moon sits just behind the glass window panes of the front room, enticing and comforting with its allure of endless promise. In the lamp’s glow, John watches Arthur start to slide off the table, cradling his foot until he’s able to place it down atop its surface.

“I think you should sit here for a while,” he advises, frowning. “I can help you down the hall later. If you want, that is. It’s doubtful you’ll be able to keep much weight on this over the next few days if you want it to heal properly.”

“Great,” John mutters. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To change out of these clothes? Why?”

“Can’t you,” he stutters, “stay here? I can’t reach the washcloth. What if I need it again?”

“I can place it next to you,” Arthur says wryly, catching on. “It’s only a foot away.”

“What if I have to get up?”

“You shouldn’t be moving at all.”

“Arthur, please.”

“Christ, alright,” he agrees, fondly. “Just for a while. I’m exhausted too, you know.”

He slips next to him. They fit together seamlessly after some adjusting, John avoiding old wounds, Arthur working around this new one. It’s a recently acquired habit, this circling of one another, quietly curling up until they were consoled enough in their own selves and each other. John’s head ends up across Arthur’s thighs, his foot propped up on the armrest of the other end. He was so tall his leg stretched past the edge of the sofa, halfway dangling in mid air.

“John, darling?” Arthur asks absently, untangling dark curls spread out across his lap.

“Yes?”

“You’ve… carried me up to bed before?”

John blinks. “Of course. I couldn’t leave you on the sofa like that, shivering.”

“I wasn’t shivering,” he retorts with mock affront. “Was I?”

“It was kind of pitiful. To give you credit, you had kicked off the blanket I put over you earlier.”

“I was wondering where that had come from,” Arthur mumbles. “Thanks, John.”

“You’re welcome. You sleep like you’re the prize boxer in a dream ring.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You kick,” John says meaningfully, eyes already beginning to close. “Hard.”

“Oh. Sorry. At least I don’t hog the blankets all the time,” Arthur retorts sheepishly.

“I do not hog anything. I’m much taller than you now! I need more of it.”

“Not all of it.”

“Buy a second blanket, then, if you’re so concerned.”

They bicker until John falls asleep. Sentences drop to single word responses, and soon enough he’s out, trying to get one last quip through the heavy pull of slumber. Arthur sighs as he feels his breathing even out, one palm flat on his chest. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to change clothes. 

“John?” he whispers. “John?”

He doesn’t answer. Arthur lets loose another weary exhale. There was no way he could move now.

“I think you did this on purpose,” he says softly, yawning. “You just want me to play with your hair, don’t you? Unfortunately for you, I’m probably going to fall asleep right here beneath you.”

He brushes stray strands off John’s forehead. It continued to puzzle him how someone who had once spent thousands of years inflicting agony on others now flinched beneath the prospect of bothering those closest to him with pain of his own.

Arthur drifts into unconsciousness soon after the thought dissipates like smoke, head dipping to rest sideways on one shoulder. John, clinging to the last dredges of wakefulness, peers up through heavy lidded eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of Arthur’s silent goodnight, John, on his lips. 

[mamawasatesttube]

ooooo timkon w “Can you just hold me?” or “You look like you need a hug." for the ficlet thing :3

Kon's hair is a frizzy mess.

That's the first red flag. Kon is ridiculously vain when he wants to be, with a whole hair care shower routine, silken pillowcases, and an array of curl creams and whatnot that he had to explain to Tim twice before any of it stuck in his head properly. Tim teases him for it now and then, but he knows it's because Kon doesn't like people seeing him at anything but his best. Kon got too used to being picked apart on camera for that.

So the fact that his hair is unkempt and mussed as he lets himself in from the balcony is... concerning.

Even more concerning is the way he barely even looks at Tim before he throws himself at the bed, flopping face-down with an oof. The balcony door closes itself behind him like an afterthought, and he heaves a huge, melancholy sigh.

"Kon?" Tim pushes away from his desk, trotting over to the bedside. Kon's legs are sticking off, and Tim shakes his head fondly as he reaches down to tug Kon's boots off. "Long day, huh?"

The first boot comes off in his hands; the second follows almost instantaneously. Kon lifts his head from the duvet to give him a slightly sheepish look over his shoulder, apologetic, before he drops his face back down with a thump.

"I'm tired," he mumbles. And he sounds like it. There isn't even a hint of a smile in his voice.

Tim crawls onto the bed next to him, rests his hand comfortingly at the small of his back. "What happened?"

Kon hisses out another sigh into the duvet. "Someone tried to—and don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm fine—but someone tried to dissect me today. Again."

Alarm jolts through Tim's whole body; his hands immediately start roaming Kon's torso, probing for wounds. "What?! Are you hurt—"

"I just said, I'm fine, Rob." Kon sounds a little wry as he rolls onto his back. "Jeez. What happened to your listening skills?"

He catches one of Tim's wrists and holds it to his chest, over his heart; Tim can see the sliver of an incision, cut right into the center of the S-shield emblazoned on his chest. He can't tell if it cut the skin beneath or not, but at least he doesn't see any blood.

The tiny smile on Kon's face fades, and Tim softens, studying him. Now that he can look properly, he can see the telltale signs that Kon cried, earlier; his cheeks are a little blotchy, his eyes slightly reddened. An eyelash is stuck to the delicate skin just below his eye.

"Some... ugh. They were some, like, Cadmus-wannabes. Total bozos, though. They had a red sun lamp, but no metagene suppressant, so." Kon shrugs, discontented. "They didn't even use the energy restraints like that time with Amanda Spence, like—c'mon, at least do your basic research if you're gonna try to vivisect a guy, right?" He snorts humorlessly. "I got out fine, took it down, called the S.C.U., it's whatever. I'm just... I'm so tired, Tim," and his voice cracks on Tim's name.

"Kon," he murmurs, leaning down. He presses their foreheads together, his chest aching. He'll have to check the news, find out from reports who exactly was behind this, because... it shouldn't matter, since it's already taken care of, but something inside him burns at the thought that anyone, anywhere, could put such a bone-deep sorrow into Kon's eyes.

"I'm so tired of people acting like I'm—like I'm not a person just 'cuz I hatched outta some stupid tube in a lab." Kon's eyes are too bright. He squeezes them shut and takes a shaky breath. "Like—what do I gotta do, y'know? How do you just—how do you even get through to people who're so convinced clones aren't people? I'm a person, too! I just... I..."

Tim very briefly debates the ethics of breaking into Stryker's just so he can hit someone with his staff. Or his car.

"I'm... really sorry you had to deal with that," he says instead, lamely. It's cold comfort, and awkward, and—

And it makes Kon laugh, watery but real. He blinks his teary-bright eyes up at Tim, brushes a gloved hand to his cheek. "You're mad as hell right now, aren't you?"

Tim smiles ruefully and presses his lips to Kon's jaw. "You caught me." Another kiss, to the corner of Kon's mouth. "I just—I hate that I can't do anything to fix this kinda thing for you. You don't deserve it."

"Mm." Kon takes a second to collect himself, swallows hard, and breathes out slowly. "You do more than you realize, I think. Can you just—can you just hold me? For a little while?"

Tim flops down on top of him immediately, wraps his arms around his head and neck, and smushes his face into Kon's hair. It would probably be more comfortable if they were side-by-side and facing each other, but the advantage of this position is that—

Kon laughs again, soft and fond. His voice is still a little thick, but he's smiling now. "Is that comfy for you...?"

"Kinda." Tim kisses his temple, too. "You smell like smoke."

"Mmf, sorry." Kon sighs again. "And I got it all over the bed now, too, huh..."

"S'okay. We can just grab a different blanket later." Tim scrunches his fingers through Kon's hair until they hit a tangle. "...Want me to wash your hair for you?"

Kon's arms tighten around him, and suddenly he seems like he needs a moment before he can respond. Tim doesn't rush him.

"Yeah," Kon croaks out after a moment, his voice suspiciously wet. "Yeah, Robbie. I'd like that a lot."

[lovesickeros]

can.. can I ask for an affectionate reader with characters who aren’t normally like… used to the love? like, not just through words but physical affection like hand-holding, kisses, hugs, all that shebang. probably with a few people like yelan, ei, basically any character that is either cut-off from society or seems socially distant or isolated. 😞

☆ affectionate reader with yelan, ei, & furina

[ 4.2 Archon Quest spoilers ]

× yelan

Varies between how you display your affection, to be honest. Just like being affectionate with people? She's cool with it as long as you don't pop by while she's working (mostly because she'll end up dragging you into it for a bit of fun). I don't think she's all that touchy feely herself, but she'll absolutely get you gifts instead– like pretty knick nacks? She'll make sure to snag any she thinks you might like. Like a good meal? Sure, she'll take you out to one of the restaurants in the city, doesn't matter how expensive. Her treat. If you do prefer physical gifts rather then being taken out, you'll eventually get used to the random unmarked letters and packages showing up where your staying pretty often. It's obvious to know who it came from even if she never signs anything.

Flirty reader, though? Whole nother can of worms and now it's a challenge. The more confident you are the more interested she is. The other acolytes would absolutely seethe at the idea but she has no hesitation at just straight up flirting back– she's as charismatic as they come and she's got a poker face that's basically impenetrable. She'll probably also make a bet to see who cracks first (she always wins, unsurprisingly). Probably won't get dragged into any of her schemes this way but if you ask politely maybe she'll consider it, anyway.

The smell of freshly brewed tea and the clatter of dice across wood was a common sight at the Yanshang Teahouse– less common was the woman secluded in the far corner, her lips pulled into a grin that flashed fangs and a look that would scare off the most confident of men.

She'd normally try to scope out any new blood that'd made the mistake of stepping into her teahouse and was equally stupid enough to accept a gamble against her just for the thrill of it, but she was far too absorbed in the warm body at her side, one of her die clasped tightly in their hand as she guided them through the motions– they had a knack for it, she had to admit. The thought made her preen, the clatter of the die as it rolled across the table giving her that subtle, familiar rush.

Even if she knew exactly where it'd land.

"Six. Hm, maybe you're just lucky," She muses, plucking the die from the table and holding it up to her eye like a prized jewel, "Or maybe you're not as innocent as you'd have us believe." There's a sharp glint in her eyes at the prospect, but everyone else has the sense to keep their heads down and their words to themselves as she tosses the die herself.

"So why don't we find out and make a bet, just between you and me?"

× ei

Varies between Ei and the Shogun, because you'll probably be seeing either as much as the other. Sometimes you gotta really squint to tell who it is sometimes, but you get used to it. Both are fairly similar, though, in that their first instinct (especially in public) is to tense up like you're about to attack them or something. Difference is Ei eventually relaxes after a solid minute of trying to process your sudden affection and, if no one else is around, she might even reciprocate. Just don't tease her for being a little stiff and awkward about it, she's trying. That's what happens when your only company is a robot and uh. Nothing. For like 500 years. She's trying. Raiden, on the other hand, is just about as awkward as you can imagine. She's polite (blunt) about it because Ei is fond of you and also you are. The Creator. But she's not really built to deal with personal relationships and so she doesn't know how to deal with affection.

..Depending on what you do you may or may not blue screen Ei hard enough that she retreats back to PoE

Ei usually isn't fond of sitting still, unless it's to meditate. At least then she goes in with a purpose, something to achieve– but now, she's just focused on trying not to make a fool of herself. Her muscles are starting to ache from how hard she's tensing, though, in an effort to sit as straight and still as possible as their hands glide through her hair, weaving it into a single braid.

She can just barely hear the subtle lilt of their voice as they hum– and though it is soothing, it is also..very distracting. She can't focus long enough to try and meditate, too lost in the gentle rise and fall of their voice and the care they take to braid her hair. If she'd had a heart, she'd sure it'd be beating so wildly against her ribcage they could hear it.

But then it stops– their hands fall back to their sides and their humming falters. She freezes, too, racking her brain for any slights she must have committed. Instead, she is met with a calm, tender touch on the back of her neck, making her inhale sharply.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Ei? You're so tense.." She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from bowing so low her head presses against the ground, her hands folded in her lap, clenching instinctively. "..No, Divine One." She answers simply, trying to contain the adoration swelling in her chest.

Yet as much as she tries to relax, to ease their worries, she finds that she cannot.

"Hm." That small murmur, a simple sound that nearly made her jump, was the only warning she got before they scooted closer, wrapping their arms around her stomach and resting their chin on her shoulder with a grin she would liken to Miko's, if she dared to make such a comparison. "Really?"

She swears she must've been feverish at the affection, lightheaded and dazed until she thought she might simply perish at the brush of their hands against her own.

Much to her embarrassment, however, she doesn't realize she's instinctively pulled back into Plane of Euthymia until she sees the familiar dull purples engulf her vision once again.

Though only a small solace, it seemed a little..brighter, this time.

× furina

Varies between pre 4.2 and post 4.2 archon quests to be honest.

Pre 4.2 she comes off as very vain– of course the most Divine would see fit to spoil her with affection! She deserves it, and is obviously their favorite! Just don't look too hard because she's terrible at hiding how flustered she actually is. Absolutely goes home right after and screams into her pillow for at least thirty minutes minimum.

Post 4.2 she's a lot more openly bashful and flustered. She's really not used to affection and even the smallest show of it has her folding immediately. Now that she doesn't need to worry about being found out she's a lot more receptive to affection. Cup her cheeks and compliment her and her knees are buckling. Like. Especially weak for compliments and praise (she deserves it. please spoil her).

She swears she must be hallucinating– she had been having trouble sleeping recently. But..no. The visage of the Creator was as real as the sweat beading on her brow as she stared at them for a long, awkward moment. Should..she let them in? But then they'd see the pathetic state she was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of them-!

Her choice was quickly made for her, anyway, as she let out an undignified squeak of surprise when they suddenly tugged her forward into their chest, enclosing her in a hug.

Her first reaction was to freeze– her second was becoming absolutely flustered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink and her mouth closing and opening as she tried to find her words.

"I– ah..um." She stumbled over her words instead, floundering like a fish out of water. Yet she felt a distinct sense of emptiness wash over her when they finally pulled back, looking a touch sheepish. "Sorry, sorry– you just looked like you needed a hug."

The silence spoke for itself, her shoulders tensing slightly. But the way the concern and affection bled through their voice made her waver, her hands trembling as she let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a sigh.

"It's..It's fine! Fine, I'm fine." She repeated, trying desperately to ignored the way her voice cracked and how hot her face felt– though it was more an attempt to affirm herself that she was not thinking about how warm they felt, how much she..actually enjoyed the hug. She wasn't thinking about it all! Absolutely not!

..Maybe a little.

"Just warn me next time, please?"

[dollarneko]

small and rusty hareway sketch using a scene from my unpublished fic...

I think from now on im gonna tag all dd404 stuff as "404EX" too bc that's my fic's/AU's name

[firefly-factory]

Astorvember Day 5: VILLAGE

Got called in to work last minute today, so this one is pretty rough. Pretend there are more houses hidden in the trees lol

But yeah, up until today I wasn't quite sure where I thought Astor grew up. All I knew was that I wanted there to be plenty of trees (because spooky atmosphere). Today I decided to open up Totk and run around the map until I found a place I liked . . . And realized that the Akkala region has SO MUCH potential.

It has trees, it has a spooky skull shaped lake (which is wonderful if you're part of a Ganon Cult I'm sure) and, more excitingly, I found two statues that give my headcanon for a pinprick village a grain of truth (especially when you realize how easily wood decays)

I also imagine there may have been some sort of small village to the south, mainly comprised of workers for the Ordorac Quarry. Astor's village (which I'll call Rok for now, after the woods it was in) likely traded with the quarry workers for more exotic goods every now and then. That being said, it was an isolated part of the world.

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.