#throws himself into a puddle of mud

[reverie-starlight]

kuroo won the poll, so have this draft that’s been sitting in my notes app since November :3

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. you and kuroo have a dog, I gave her a name.

“tetsu,” you call out from the doorway, dread evident in your tone.

the man in question looks up from his newspaper and sighs. he knows exactly what’s about to happen and the very idea makes his stomach churn.

the air grows thick with silence as he takes in the gravity of the situation. “we have to, tetsu. it’s time.”

he meets your eyes for the first time this morning with a nearly unreadable expression. he’s guarded.

you are too.

“do we… do we really have to?”

this annoys you, just slightly, but you don’t bother picking at it.

so you nod. “yeah, tetsurou,” you cross yours arms. “we have to give her a bath.”

he groans and throws his head against the back of the sofa. when he’s done his temper tantrum, he stands up and stretches his arms above his head, rolls his shoulders and other (unnecessary, in your opinion) preparations for the task ahead. “man, they weren’t kidding when they said parenting was hard.”

you snort and start walking to the bedroom to change. the child in question, of course, is your dog, peach.

your dog who absolutely hates baths with a passion.

she has since she was a puppy, and while you’ve tried to get her used to them, every attempt seems to end with water all over the bathroom floor, screaming and enough sweat to warrant you needing to bathe right after.

and on this fine sunday morning, she happened to run through a muddy puddle when you took her for a walk.

so a bath was unavoidable.

peach, none the wiser, pants happily in the hall just outside your bedroom (with a towel you found in an attempt to wipe her paws that she’s since claimed as her prize). she has no idea what’s about to happen and you almost feel bad, but then you recall how she was moments away from dragging you through the mud with her and the guilt goes away pretty quickly.

once you’re changed, your fiancé whistles. “didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of seeing you in your swimsuit again so soon.”

you roll your eyes. he’s wearing an old tank top and some swim trunks himself, so he’s one to talk. “it’s either a swimsuit or risk getting my clothes soaking wet. I’m trying a new method today.”

he shakes his head in faux disappointment, grabbing the bottle of dog shampoo from one of the cabinets. “swimsuits in november. the things we do for our dog.”

you pat his shoulder and herd peach into the guest bathroom- there’s no way you’re letting her into yours in this state. “c’mon girl, c’mere! hey tetsu,” you call.

“yeah?”

“can you bring the treats with you?”

he pokes his head in the doorway and holds up a bag. “already got ‘em.”

you take a deep breath in when he shuts the door behind him and sets the stuff down. you act as casual as possible as you take her collar off and try to calm her.

you cup her furry face and shush her gently when she whines, clearly staring to realize what’s happening. “alright princess peach, you’re going to be good, right? you got all messy, we’re just gonna clean you up!”

you nod at kuroo, who’s already standing in the shower, and he picks her up with ease, placing her in the tub with him.

she is not happy with this and immediately tries to claw her way out until you feed her a treat and she settles down slightly. it breaks your heart to put her in distress, but this is a non negotiable task.

so you start the water and let chaos reign.

fifteen minutes later, she’s finally calm and prancing around the bathroom, avoiding the towel and treating it like a game.

you and kuroo are both soaked, as expected, and you’re so glad you prepared for it.

you dry her off as much as she’ll allow and let her out, towel in her mouth, to go lay down in the living room.

you tilt your head to glance at him and snort. “you have fur on your face.”

you get it for him and he examines yours. he picks some off of your nose and flicks it into the trash. “well,” he starts. “that could’ve been worse.”

an hour later you’re both dried off and there’s towels on the floor drying up any water that spilled out of the tub.

kuroo took peach on another walk to dry her off faster and tire her out some more, so you’re curled up on the couch with a book and sipping on a warm drink.

the door opens not long after and when you glance up to greet him, the words die in your throat.

standing in the entrance is a very muddy kuroo and somehow (you don’t know how this is even possible) a mostly clean peach. only her paws seem to be muddy, thankfully, nothing like earlier.

“tetsurou… what happened?”

the man in question purses his lips. mud falls from his hair down onto the floor and you wince a little. “she saw a squirrel and dragged me through a puddle of mud.”

you cover your mouth with your book in an attempt to hide your smile. he suffered the same fate you narrowly avoided earlier. “and she stayed clean?”

“she wasn’t interested in anything other than that damn squirrel.”

you finally let out a laugh and rise from the sofa. “alright, just leave the dirty clothes by the door, I’ll wash them after you’re done showering.”

he gives you a look that makes you feel uneasy. “you’re not gonna comfort me after what I went through?”

alarm bells ring in your head and you slowly start backing up. “tetsu, don’t even think about it.”

peach trots off happily and you don’t even bother worrying about the paw print stains she’s tracking in. it’ll probably be the least of your worries in a few moments.

your fiancé grins menacingly and slips his boots and sweater off. “whaaaat? c’mon baby, give me a hug. I really need it.”

you shriek and start running when he darts at you.

peach, deciding she’s too tired to get in on the action, curls up and falls asleep to the familiar sounds of chaos and shared laughter as her dad chases you around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this one goes out to my dog who nearly floods my bathroom and ruptures my eardrums whenever I try to give her a bath <3

[daycourtofficial]

Worms, worms, worms!

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none

Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends

Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).

It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”

Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”

That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.

“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”

His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.

Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.

The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.

Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.

“Worms are outside, Dada.”

“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”

Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain. 

The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian. 

The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.

Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris. 

“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No throwing dirt.”

Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”

Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit. 

Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.

Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.

It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.

“You love me, right Dada?”

“More than you know.”

Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.

“What if I was a worm?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.

“Very much.”

Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions. 

That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.

He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

[cloudshuffle]

physical touch. yan!penacony

Nobility AU

Prince Aventurine

It's no secret who you're bethrothed to in the palace - the blonde prince who basically has you attached at his hip, arm always linked with yours.

Aventurine showers you in physical touch - a hand on your waist or hip, pulling you closer to him as people pass by, resting on the small of your back as you move around the ballroom as a pair - anything short of simply cuddling you into his side. He can't stand being too far from you for too long.

Not that you mind too much. He smells nice and it feels like you're being sheltered, as long as you're at his side.

Dr Veritas Ratio

The professor is known to have his... reservations about people (put lightly). Yet he doesn't quite seem to have those same feelings about you; his contempt more of a clinical nature, like he's inspecting a particularly troublesome problem.

The first time he touches you is entirely by accident. You take a step back and he mistakenly thinks you've stumbled, his hand catching onto you before you can fall. You leap aside, naturally startled - of all people, Veritas Ratio caring whether you fall flat on your face?

Since then, he takes special joy in making physical contact with you and relishing the aftermath. From wiping food from your face to "accidentally" brushing hands with you during lessons, he enjoys watching your flustered, flushed expression, or the way you jump in surprise.

Sunday

As a butler, Sunday has boundaries he can't overstep, yet he manages to elegantly circumvent them anyway. He makes sure to bring you to places in the garden after a rain where the ground is still soft, then graciously offers a hand so he can help you to your place for teatime or for reading. Or he mentions that your hair could use a little fixing (it doesn't), and pretends to busy himself when he's just running his fingers through it.

Sunday likes how warm you feel, even through his gloves, and the innocent, pure trust you put in him to not shove you into a mud puddle or make your hair a mess. You're none the wiser, and he finds it's part of the fun.

Boothill

Where Sunday enjoys your ignorance, Boothill feigns it - playing the perfect part of the uneducated rogue, he throws a carefree arm around your shoulders, shaking you like a rag doll in his enthusiasm. He physically disallows you from carrying books on your own (read: snatching them from your hands), and especially likes to come up behind you, give you a scare, and then help you reach for the materials you wanted.

The librarian has given you both the stink-eye on many occasions.

He sits a little too close and talks a little too loud, but you enjoy his company. If anything, he effectively wards off any snooping, prying maids or overbearing bodyguards.

[kindaasrikal]

Throwing you all with my random dumb situation headcanons for the ninja:

The moment Kai and Cole met they just kept arguing back and forth. Bantering in all technicalities. Kai would say Cole’s arms are just flab’s and not actual muscles and Cole would say Kai’s hair makes him look like a spiky hair brush attached to a body he could easily snap in half. This later led to speculations of a rival’s to lovers plot line until they turned all that energy into something to use on others. Kidnapped? They’re cussing out the kidnapper over his horrible smell. Lectured from Wu and Lloyd? One of them is mimicking them behind their back, exaggerated back issues and all. And to do the norm of bullying Jay, of course.

Jay and Zane have both dressed up as oversized marshmallows before. Zane’s large costume had unbelievably soft fur, Jay’s was somehow actually burnt. They made Kai glue sticks to himself and shoved Cole into a stiff costume of a campfire. He started rolling down a cliff. Jay and Zane periodically laugh at it, even years later.

Kai was once walking past Zane, one accidentally stumbled over Kai’s foot, which made Kai lose balance, which made Zane reach forward to grab Kai, which made Kai cling onto Zane koala bear style but deformed? Which then led them to tumbling down the monastery stairs at 3am. Tired after 10 minutes of rolling down and falling into a tree, they accepted their fate and fell asleep in a puddle of mud. Nya had fun blasting them with water to both clean them and wake them up after two hours of searching for them.

Lloyd has found a lot of entertainment of sticking stickers everywhere. Nya ends up giving him a ‘water you doing’ pun sticker with her face on it after crystallised. He doesn’t know how to feel about it other than sticking it on to one of the cups Jay used to talk to. Lloyd, during march of the oni, may or may not have stuck a cockroach and spider sticker onto Garmadon’s helmet. He has also created realistic stickers and once replaced the bathroom mirror with one. Kai thought he became a vampire.

Jay once caught Kai reading starfarer fanfics. As much as Jay wanted to make fun of Kai, he took a quick peak at the fic and realised ‘oh. Oh no.’ When seeing the writing of 12 year old Jay.

Nya got told she was horribly messy, like a beast, from Kai and that he doubts she could ever clean anything well. She thought challenge accepted, noted how there was no rules saying she can’t use her element (ignoring the fact there are no rules at all) and proceeded to clean the entire monastery under an hour. She didn’t anticipate the fact that her magical element might not be made for cleaning, when for the next week everyone kept slipping on the mirror like floors. Wu took it as a good way to train the ninja in difficult circumstances, and the chicken was then released.

Zane, after a new rule being made on not being allowed to sleep in the fridge, decided to try something else and attempted to freeze himself in a block of ice. In the ninja’s shared bedroom. Wu was torn between cackling and sitting on the floor in disappointment when he opened the door to their room the next morning, wondering why his students are late, only to find ice. Just ice. An ice room. In a literal sense. Nya was not torn whatsoever as she cackled on the floor taking pictures of the shivering ninja.

[shogunish]

𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗲.

pairing. true form! sukuna x f! reader

genre. some sort of romance (?)

contents. set in the heian period, true form sukuna, reader is a concubine, after sex + casual nudity, creampie, violence, blood, mediocre poetry that i wrote myself

summary. sukuna who neither loves nor hates anyone, finds himself attracted to the poetry you write so elegantly.

words. 2.4k

note. based on this random sukuna thought i had.

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3

you had no other choice but to bang your fist against wooden gates in the pouring rain, mud staining your once white robes and strands of hair sticking to your face like a second skin.

"please, let me in!"

what else were you supposed to do when a swarm of curses suddenly terrorized your village, eating your parents' flesh alive and feasting on their corpses once they had died of shock? you had barely made it out of your home, throwing stones at the winged cursed spirits in hopes of gaining some sort of distance, an advantage.

"i'll do anything! i swear!"

you banged your fist harder until splinters pierced your skin and jumped off the wood. but the pain of it wasn't greater than the anguish of losing your loved ones, your home – a place you could no longer return to, a graveyard for the living.

tears of despair ran down your cheeks and you sobbed. wings flapped in the distance. you didn't need to turn around to know that those cursed spirits had caught up to you in the matter of a few minutes. horror crawled up your spine, slinging itself around your neck like the burn of a noose.

"please! i'm begging!"

your heart had already given up when you sunk to your knees, your mind made peace with the fact that this was it. but before you even knew what happened, someone grabbed the collar of your robes, dragged you inside and tossed your body into a puddle of mud like..like you were nothing.

"huh..?" sitting on your knees, your head shot up and your eyes widened once they caught sight of your savior and downfall.

he looked like a beast. four arms and two faces with pink hair slicked back amd an aura that nearly suffocated you. a pair of his arms was crossed over his chest, red eyes glared at you, stared right through the essence of your soul.

ryomen sukuna.

your grandparents always told you stories about him, but you never believed that anyone, or rather anything, like that could exist. nothing but a scary fairytale meant to teach children not to misuse jujutsu or else he'd eat them in their sleep. but he was real. silently, you wished you had listened to grandma and grandpa.

sukuna didn't ask for it, but your trembling body was on autopilot when you lowered your forehead to the wet ground and squeezed your eyes shut.

"do you have any idea how loud you are?" his voice was deep, obviously annoyed by your obnoxious begs and pleads to let you in, to grant you shelter from a horde of lousy cursed spirits.

you dug your fingernails into the ground. "m-my apologies.." your voice died in your throat, hoarse from screaming and begging and trembling out of pure fear. "my village..it got slaughtered and i..i just.."

"did I ask for any of your excuses?" sukuna couldn't care less about your sob story you tried serving him in an attempt to keep your life.

you were about to apologize again when clawed hands grabbed your cheeks, jerked your head upwards and forced you to look at sukuna who appeared to be bored out of his mind. wide-eyed, you stared at him with mud, tears and blood on your face. truly disgusting did you look.

"you said you'd do anything?" sukuna questioned as he regarded your fear-stricken face that looked like it was about to cry again when you dumbly nodded your head.

despite that, he had to admit that your skin seemed well taken care of and the fabric of your robes was neither too shabby nor too expensive. you were neither a farmer nor a noble, but something..in-between.

you reminded him of a poem he once read.

"the ugly little duck that many would have slaughtered

grew into a beautiful swan with grace unknown and beauty unmatched."

a silly swing of mood was all it took for sukuna to change his mind. originally, he wanted to spill the blood of the person who disturbed his rest, but he decided to give you chance to grow into something beautiful, something even someone like him could admire like the poetry he liked to read.

"you'd make a fine concubine." a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

was this..it?

you'd get to keep your life in exchange for pleasuring a mass murderer? you cringed at the thought and had half the mind to say that you'd rather be fed to the wolves than existing for a man's pleasure, but then..the images of your killed loved ones flashed before your eyes.

saying those words out loud would result in a painful, slow death. those cursed spirits would tear the flesh off your bones until you'd die of shock or blood loss.

you yielded. you did say you'd do anything.

"yes..i shall be your concubine as a sign of my gratitude."

those words sealed your fate.

sukuna called for someone named uraume, an androgynous-looking person clothed in monk robes and they took you inside where you were not only granted a bath but also a fresh pair of robes. they said they'd show you around the coming morning, that you would be to sleep in a room with the other concubines and that you had nothing to do but satisfy sukuna's sexual desires.

if you were to disobey, you would die.

just what had you gotten yourself into?

.

.

sukuna liked to believe that he didn't care about anyone. people, humans, were nothing but the dirt underneath his feet. maybe even the ants he'd squish if they were lucky enough. but even a curse such as himself found himself drawn to one of the arts humans gave birth to.

it was poetry.

those words would likely never reach sukuna's soul, but he liked the art of putting words together, to think about their meaning. after all, writing was the same as laying your soul bare – similar to showing your nude body to strangers like one of his many concubines.

in full bloom were the cherry blossoms, plum and vibrant. a spring breeze blew by and the engawa creaked underneath sukuna's bare feet. the pond's surface was disturbed by the occasional koi fish getting a little too close to the sun, the water rippled silently before coming to flawless stillness once more.

one more step and a glance towards the ground – what was this? sukuna bent down, picked up a piece of paper and upon turning it around, he was met with fine, onyx brush strokes and a neat handwriting. it was poetry.

sukuna shouldn't be as interested as he was, but maybe it was the good mood he had which allowed him to indulge himself in such silly thing.

"dreams are like bubbles.

fragile and transient, one touch and they cease to exist.

so why is it that i keep blowing bubbles,

hoping that the wind will be more gentle with them than my own fingertips?"

.

.

"if pain is time, then this must be eternity."

.

.

"his claws, so sharp and lethal and drenched in his arrogance's blood, almost feel as gentle as the breeze ringing in the spring."

and when sukuna raised his gaze, wanting to find a trace of the person who wrote these lines with such anguish, ruby irises found your form sitting underneath a tree. a little book was in your hands, black ink on the tips of your fingers as you dragged the brush across the paper. a faraway look in your eyes and glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you wrote down word for word.

who would've thought that a mere concubine, a woman whose purpose was to please sukuna in any way possible, was capable of creating such beauty? of executing such etiquette and carrying the brush with the sorrows of days gone by.

what else was going on in your mind, in that little soul of yours?

"sukuna. is everything alright?" uraume asked as they emerged from a sliding door. they had just come back from aiding the maids with a task that they needed help with and upon coming back, uraume immediately noticed the foreign expression on sukuna's face.

was this..awe..curiosity..or something entirely different? they couldn't tell.

sukuna crumpled the piece of paper in his fist. "yeah. no need to worry." he reassured his subordinate, but..those words were directed to himself as well.

.

.

.

soon after, sukuna requested you more often and kept you by his side for a little while before you'd pick up your kimono from the ground to go back to your own chambers to wash the sin off your body.

candles lit up sukuna's chamber, dipping the walls in hues of orange and yellow as the flame flickered. paintings as well as weapons made for war decorated the space – tools which still scared you, because what could a being such as sukuna do with these weapons? he could likely do worse than just murder you, you thought.

a sheen of sweat coated your nude body. your breasts rose and fell with each deep breath you took and sukuna's marks littered your skin. his bites on your neck, fingerprints on your thighs and the marks of his claws on your hips which were partly bloody. semen leaking from your entrance, you shivered.

"may i assume you're satisfied for the night, sukuna?" you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes still hazy from your orgasm.

sukuna's lower arm was wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. it was the most gentle touch you had ever received from him.

he hummed as if he was in thought. "..not quite."

immediately, you squirmed into a more upright position, eyes wide and shimmering even in the dim light. "i promise i can do better! if you let me just–" deft fingers attempted to raise the blanket from sukuna's lower half, but he stopped you, shaking his head.

"no, not that. rather.." he trailed off, watching the confusion grow in your eyes. "..i desire to know whether it's you who's lost a page of poetry?" sukuna's voice was deep, smooth like velvet, yet as dark as the abyss in his pupils. "the other concubines wouldn't even know how to write poetry, so..the only one left is you, [name]."

heat rose to your face. ashamed, you raise the blanket up to your collarbone as if it could hide the words sukuna had found. "..how did you..?"

"i found it when i stepped on it." sukuna was gentle when he cupped your chin with his clawed fingers and made you look at him. "consider me impressed."

surprise was written all over your face, lips parted, eyes wide and all that. you swore your heart was beating in your throat. did sukuna, the king of curses, just praise you?

he never praised anyone.

"..pardon..?" you breathed out. was this some kind of dream? a lucid dream? or maybe you were put under a spell? whichever it was..it felt pleasant.

"i'm not going to repeat myself." sukuna brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, tucking the strand behind your ear. "but i am going to keep you by my side. it appears that you're good for more than meets the eye."

that night, sukuna handed you a brush, ink and a piece of paper. he kept you by his side the entire night, wanting to hear the words you put to paper until you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and his marks on your skin.

.

.

.

people said that love came all different shapes and forms: platonic love, familial love, erotic love, the love one held towards a pet and so on. if one were to ask sukuna what sort of affections he held towards you when you sat by his side, filling pages of poetry for him to read, he likely would remain silent.

because as arrogant as he was as the king of curses, as much as he didn't care about anyone but himself, he could not deny the fact that, in your company, he found peace amidst the violence that he caused himself.

sukuna liked the way you sat next to him with no fear, gentle eyes focused on that little notebook and a brush in your hand. silently would you sit next to the catastrophe that was sukuna, pouring your feelings onto paper that would one day fade and crumble like leaves in the wind. yes, even your tranquil self would one day fade into nothing like the ink on your papers.

"will you miss me when it's my turn to go?" you asked without looking at sukuna. a few cherry blossoms petals got tangled in your hair.

sukuna was gentle when he used one of his hands to pick the petal out of your hair. he should've said no without hesitating so long, because despite your appearance, you were awfully perceptive – that much sukuna had learned.

a smile graced your lips. seated next to sukuna on the engawa had become your favorite pastime even though he would use your body later on with no regard for your aching limbs.

"what? am I dear to you?" you teased the king of curses. within the last few months, you had become attuned to each other without meaning to.

"..if it is possible for a curse to love."

a sigh slipped sukuna's lips. he begrudgingly entertained your thoughts. "it seems that my treatment towards you has got to your head, [name]."

at that, you giggle into your notebook, eyes closed and the apples of your cheeks tinting a hue of red. "maybe a little bit. i was merely wondering if.."

sukuna was certain that he didn't love you, but rather the words you wrote. they flowed like water, written with grace unknown and beauty unmatched. each syllable was either fragile like a petal or sturdy like a warrior on horseback. it was funny how your poetry was a reflection of yourself.

when you sat next to sukuna, you were tender but when he'd order you into his chamber, you'd take and obey his orders like a samurai with nothing but moans on your lips.

"my affection has nothing to do with you." sukuna said after a pause.

"how sad." you mused, putting your brush down. "a being who has been living for so long and never experienced any sort of love. it must be lonely."

that day when you pressed a kiss to sukuna's cheek like a lover would, he wondered…if maybe you were attached to him instead.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

dogboy!yuyu headcanons

genre: bf!yunho x gn!reader, fluffiest fluffy fluff, crack

length: 1.8k

a/n: this spontaneously wrote itself after reading bai’s (@hwaightme) catboy!hwa headcanons, dreaming about dogboy!yuyu, and then being triggered by the braincell i share with yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic) <3 also scroll through to the end for a surprise 🐹

taglist: @lavishloving

YUYU :’((((

the cutest fluffiest ball of energy to ever light up your world <33

your heart just goes :’) whenever you see him, no matter what he’s doing

PUPPY EYES

THE MOST. LETHAL. PUPPY. EYES. EVER.

at first he doesn’t know how dangerous his puppy eyes are

he’s scared of doing the wrong thing or disobeying your orders because he thinks you might not want him anymore or kick him out :(((

he’s so precious he deserves to be protected from every bad thing in the world :((

but then once he learns that you love him more than he can even fathom

and he can literally get away with anything??

especially if he just whips out his puppy eyes and cocks his head to one side??

PLEASE

yunho is 🥺 emoji personified

he stamps his little paws in excitement when you approach him

loves it when you caress the space between his eyes he gets all sleepy 

EAR SCRATCHES

he loves when you scratch behind his ear or under his chin or on his belly

aka scratches anywhere.

and he has the fluffiest and floppiest ears ever <333

they flop up and down whenever he runs it’s so cute omg

and he loves to chase his own tail

he MUST win the battle with himself grr

he doesn’t realise how big he is, both as a pupper AND a human

he runs at you from a distance and attacks you in a hug 🥺

but when he’s really excited and leaps up into your arms it feels like you’re getting slammed by a moving brick wall

you both definitely go down with an oof (mainly from you)

but who can be annoyed when you look up and he’s all :D :D :D and wagging tails on top of you

you two play a lot because he has so much energy

like you throw treats up in the air and he jumps to catch them and it’s like he’s challenging you at this point

you both have this thing where you put your hand on his paw, then he moves to place his paw on top of your hand, then you place your hand on top again and you just make an endless tower of hands

it never ends. it is A COMPETITION.

yall also have barking competitions where you’re just howling at each other lolll

because of that, your neighbour sometimes asks how your dogs (plural) are going and you have to make up a second dog because you’re not about to admit that it’s actually you howling back

yunho ALWAYS gets the zoomies at the most random times

in the morning when you’ve literally just pulled yourself out of bed and half asleep?

he does zoomies around the living room

nearly trips you over

at 3am when you’ve just finished your work and you’re stumbling your way to bed

he gets the zoomies in your bedroom and jumps all over your bed

SPEAKING OF BED

his favourite place is bed

but your bed specifically

you don’t need a heater in winter because he loves loves LOVES to snuggle with you and he’s super warm and fluffy

there’s lots and lots of cuddle sessions ofc, especially when you’re feeling down

he’s always there and he’ll like, give you space at first and then slowly inch towards you :((

sometimes you get nightmares that you’re suffocating and you wake up to yunho’s dog butt sitting on your face LOL

or you’ll wake up to his tail swishing in your face because he’s dreaming about steak

he likes playing in puddles and mud a little toooo much

when it rains you dress him up in a cute little yellow duckie raincoat

you’ve tried the matching puppy gumboots too but he just shakes them off

loves to go splish splash with his paws in all the puddles he comes across

and when he walks away he leaves a trail of his paw prints <3

omg when it comes to shower time after playing?

BRAT 

a cute brat though you could never ever get angry at him

he makes you chase him through the house and you’re shrieking about the little paw prints he’s leaving on the floor

(he helps you clean them up afterwards)

when you finally wrestle him into the bathtub he huffs until you fill it with bubbles and add his toys

you most definitely have to take your own shower after his because of how soapy your clothes get

yunho LOVES his toys so much

it takes so long to convince him to let you put them in the wash

because as soon as you take them away from him? the puppy eyes come out

and you have to be firm and tell him that the toys just need a bit of cleaning, they’ll come back to you smelling super nice, it’s just for a little while

he still sits in front of the washing machine watching the whole cycle because he doesn’t trust the machine

he protecc

whenever you’re working or busy doing something, he’ll come up and nudge you every other minute so you play with him

he’ll drop a toy at your feet so you throw it for him

or he’ll tug on your pants and whine a little for your attention

you’re definitely weak for him so you almost always end up giving in

do you walk him or does he walk you?

he gets excited and darts off whenever he sees other people or other dogs because he wants to go and say hello :’))

and even though he loves meeting the other dogs, if you find another cute dog and turn your attention towards it or compliment it he’s gonna be all 🥺🥺🥺

he’s built to protect you like whenever you go out he’ll valiantly be on the lookout for any dangers like lizards that get too close or plastic bags that are flying towards you

LOL sometimes you can’t bring yunho out with you, and when you get home after bumping into another dog on the way back, yunho will immediately be able to sniff out their smell on your clothes

and he’ll be like >:((

how dare you >:((

i demand head pats and ear scratches as compensation >:((

he melts as soon as you give him a kiss though

when he’s human, literally nothing changes

he has endless energy and he literally skips and bounds along as he walks with you

the man does not. stand. still.

he will JUMP down the last four or five stairs and give you a mini heart attack

you scold him like you’re going to get hurt !!!!! but he just grins at you before running ahead again

omg he gives the most crushing and loving hugs <333

your favourite ones are when you’re running towards him and he has his arms wide open and he catches you as you leap into his arms

and he holds your waist firmly as he spins you two around and you’re both just all wide smiles and hearty giggles (PLS IM SO SOFT RN)

yunho eats like there’s no tomorrow

you cook and plate up your food and turn around to get yourself a glass of water or something and when you turn back around half his plate is already gone and he’s like :D

and you’re like ???? where ?? did all the food go?? 

when you bake you’ve got to keep a close eye on him he’s like a CHILD

he’ll steal the chocolate chips off the counter and you have to take the packet from him and tell him that you need them for the cookies

but he gets a handful of them anyway as compromise

it’s the puppy eyes i’m telling you they stay with him even when he shifts

“no, yuyu, the cookies are still hot you need to wait”

:(

“stop looking at me like that they won’t cool any faster”

:( 

when it’s bedtime he dives under the covers with you

he drapes himself over you like he does when he’s a dog except he is much heavier when he isn’t a dog and you’re lowkey struggling to breathe under him

and he’s like oh no !! i forgot !!

and he’ll lie on his back and pull you so that you lie on top of him instead :’))

doesn’t matter if he’s dog or human, he LOVES CUDDLES

sometimes he decides that he wants head scratches too and he’ll bring your hand up to his head so that you play with his soft blonde locks

he also peppers your face with kisses like non-stop

he makes it his personal goal to make you giggle and laugh from all the kisses he’s giving you

because he is all about that physical affection and touch, perhaps even more when he’s a human

when you’re home he HAS to be touching you in one way or another like he’ll have a hand on your thigh or he’s draped over you in a back hug or you’re sitting in his lap

and it’s so cute when you see the same mannerisms and habits he has as a dog when he’s human

he’ll sit there and huff at all the right times when you tell him about your long day

(which was one of the first things you picked up on that yunho wasn’t your typical dog because when you ranted to him it was like he could understand you perfectly)

and like he still has his protective instincts, except when he’s a man he is The Man 

you tell him about some colleague at work who was nasty to you and he’ll be like WHO. LET ME GO BITE THEM

he definitely growls a little when he’s really protective like grrr >:(

lol but also when you two are playing games and he’s feeling competitive or he’s gaming on the computer he’ll unintentionally growl at you and sometimes you find it kinda hot ;)

with yunho there has never been a single dull moment

his laughter and cheeky antics just become a permanent part of your life <3

he only has eyes for you and they’re filled with love

he is THE GOODEST BOY PERIODT.

bonus: hamsterboy!joong

the D: hamster backed up into a corner meme

raises his little hands when he's scared

will freeze standing up for no apparent reason

literally faints or unalives at the slightest inconvenience

like if you sneeze too loud

or if he falls off the little platform in his cage

you’ll never catch him running in the hamster wheel - that is solely for napping in

he also likes to nap in the igloo homes you put there for him

if you lift one up while he’s under it he’ll run for his life towards another shelter LOL

shoves everything into his mouth when he eats

he complains when his food bowl is empty

but if you try to take the bowl to fill it up? he tries to bite you

no take >:( only fill >:(

tries to look aggressive but he’s the smollest lil bean to exist 🥺

what makes you think he’s any different as a human?

LOL

the end

[saltywombatllama]

Since this fandom is basically DEAD, I decided to post random things (I belive that happened or that should have happened) about in memoriam by Alice winn(because let's be real, that book is toooooo underrated where as a lot of books that aren't all that get sooooo much attention) (BTW i feel like if maud, devi, Hayes and pitchard would all meet, they would bond over thr trauma they had with the situationship that could only be separated by [only] the forces of nature and a war, and they would be besties)

----------

Ellwood: I hate you.

Gaunt: Likewise.

Ellwood: You’re insufferable.

Gaunt: You’re unbearable.

Ellwod: Why are you in my bed?

Gaunt: …I missed you.

Narrator voice(Devi coming from under the bed): They were already married in the eyes of God and everyone who had ever read Wilfred Owen.

------------

Ellwood at school: I’m not gay, I just think Henry is the most beautiful boy to ever exist and I’d die if he stopped talking to me.

Ellwood in France: Okay maybe I’m a little gay.

Ellwood after Henry gets injured: Okay I’m gay.

-----------

Someone at Eton(probably): I knew they were in love when Ellwood let Gaunt win at chess and Gaunt apologized for it like it was a crime against nature.

------------

Gaunt: You’re insufferable.

Ellwood: You’re bleeding again.

Gaunt: And you’re still here.

Ellwood: I enjoy watching you suffer.

Maud: If one of you doesn’t kiss the other, I swear I’ll enlist myself.

-----------

Devi: You can’t use chlorine gas to “send a message.”

Pritchard: It wasn’t about the gas. It was about the vibe.

Hayes: The vibe made me pass out.

---------

Maud’s weekly update to her aunt:

“Ellwood looked at Gaunt like he was reading a very tragic novel and recognized himself.

Gaunt responded by nearly dying in a mud hole.

Devi is staging a one-man Marxist revolution in the officer’s tent.

Hayes cried over a rabbit.

Pritchard smiled, which should have been a red flag.

Please send more socks.”

-----------

Ellwood: Gaunt fainted during poetry again.

Maud: He fainted or he was emotionally undone by sonnets?

Gaunt: You’re all being very unfair.

--------

Gaunt(shot in the arm,bleeding) :Don’t tell Ellwood.

Five minutes later

Ellwood (storming into the trench): WHO HURT HIM I JUST WANT TO TALK

----------

Devi: I didn’t come here to make friends.

Hayes: But you did knit me mittens.

Devi: That was political.

---------

(Writing war poetry together)

Devi: slams notebook This is about anti-colonial rage and the dehumanization of soldiers.

Gaunt: Mine is… vaguely about… mortality.

Ellwood: …

Maud: Ellwood’s is literally titled To Him, Whose Throat I Dare Not Kiss.

Ellwood: It’s a metaphor.

Devi: It's a confession

----------

Gaunt: Hypothetically—if I were wounded and dying in a puddle of blood—

Ellwood: I’d throw myself on top of you like a Victorian widow.

Gaunt: I was going to say “would you still love me,” but…

Ellwood: The answer is yes, obviously.

-------

Devi, writing a 'list of things to do before I die'

• Topple the monarchy ✅

• Confiscate Pritchard’s lighter ❌

• Free Ireland ✅

• Emotional vulnerability: still pending ❌

• Stare at Ellwood and Gaunt until one of them admits they’re in love ✅

----------

Gaunt & Ellwood: (having an argument)

Maud: I’ve read heterosexual romance novels less dramatic than this.

Devi: They literally argue in iambic pentameter.

Pritchard: I ship it.

Hayes: What’s shipping?

Pritchard: It’s when you see two people being disasters and you root for the kiss.

------------

Maud: Does anyone here know how to process a single emotion

Gaunt: No.

Ellwood: No.

Devi: I can, but I won’t.

Hayes: I baked banana bread

Pritchard: I once cried because a knife was too dull. Does that count?

---------

Maud: I love my brother.

Also Maud: He has the emotional range of a haunted teaspoon.

Also Maud: He deserves love. Preferably from Ellwood.

Also Maud: I will slap him if he doesn’t say something soon.

------------

Maud: Have you tried saying how you feel?

Gaunt: I wrote a poem.

Maud: Did you give it to him?

Gaunt: I buried it in the garden.

Maud: For the love of God—

--------

Devi: We all cope differently. I organize political insurrections.

Pritchard: I build bombs.

Hayes: I crochet.

Ellwood: I pine.

Gaunt: I bleed aesthetically.

Maud: I pretend I don’t know any of you.

Tell me if you want a part 2

[the-copycat-hero]

i am obsessed with the idea of Monoma copying a "messy" or otherwise unfavorable quirk to take down a bad guy. like,,, he presents himself as so clean-cut and elegant that people assume he would never copy something uncouth, but in all honesty, he Could Not Care Less about that sort of thing. he copies a quirk that amplifies the user's strength the dirtier they get, and he immediately (and shamelessly) throws himself into the nearest mud puddle, suit and all. do NOT test him.

[anghraine]

This is probably my most "born and raised in the rural western USA" post ever, but there really is a kind of annoying white dude who shows up in the western states at times, and occasionally even comes from them, who I keep encountering. This kind of guy might not be an obvious bigot (though sometimes he is), but regardless, is one of the most irritating creatures on the face of the planet. Common traits:

goes around in full wannabe western cowboy (21st century edition) cosplay and never shuts up about the plight of the rural poor and his own history of poverty in small town rural America. he understands in a way that these city elites never will.

turns out to be from a comfortable middle-class family in Missoula. (as one example; there are lots of variants of this)

affects an obviously fake drawl in no way characteristic of the actual region he comes from to go with the cosplay.

the hat is pristine, the boots are unscuffed, the belt buckle is ... wrong, and the obligatory truck was bought new and couldn't pull a Toyota out of a mud puddle or make it up a moderately steep hill in half an inch of snow.

assumes everyone he professionally interacts with has no more experience of actual rural life and/or poverty than he does himself, especially if he's in the arts in some capacity. The poors don't care about Art, you see (sometimes stated, usually strongly implied with little comprehension that he's saying it).

relatedly, has intense food+social class opinions and appears to think that cheap food for the proletariat is, like, the Olive Garden.

throws around his red state creds while giving the distinct impression that it's been 20 years since he saw a cow.

the more liberal versions talk a lot about awareness of their privilege and positionality as white men, but don't really do anything to support marginalized colleagues. unless "picking on younger and less powerful men who haven't done anything wrong" counts.

[tyissolavish]

Inverse to the last prompt, but could you do some headcanons about CG Dominik? In addition to regressor vibes, he also gives off older brother-coded CG vibes to me.

sure!!!

-he’s usually not the only caregiver in charge, because he’s not very responsible and often times ends up in shenanigans with you rather than disciplining you. but he will always make sure you’re safe, fed, and happy. he’s just a bit goofy and ignorant.

-he will always be down to play with you, no matter what it is! he plays along and often makes elaborate characters and stories to keep you entertained, even putting on different voices for different toys and characters. he’ll make your stuffies dance and sing and he’s committed to the bit of not breaking character, so he’s very fun to play pretend with.

-he literally sucks at cooking, but he’ll take you to your favorite restaurant to get takeout and have a picnic in the backyard, or even the park if it’s not super busy and crowded!!

-he likes to take you on “adventures” with him, which usually just consist of exploring the wooded area behind his house’s backyard. or, he’s always down to take you to the zoo and the aquarium if the weather isn’t bad. he always ends up buying you a toy from the gift shop, even after he says he won’t give in this time.

-sings to you or hums to calm you down. he remembers all of your favorite songs just for that reason.

-has a problem with accidentally letting swear words slip out in front of you, but he secretly thinks it’s hilarious if you repeat him.

-he never says no to ice cream, even when he should, because he secretly wants it too.

-he loves to make arts and crafts with you or color!

-he’s not really stern, but he always makes sure you’re in bed on time and that you’ve brushed your teeth and showered. he doesn’t scold you for back talking though, but instead tries to reason with you in toddler logic so it’s not too much to process for someone so small.

-he loves to give piggy back rides!! he loves to throw you into the air and catch you, saying silly stuff like “oh my goodness they turned my baby into a little feather!” or “is that a dandelion?” while tossing and catching you. he’s secretly very thankful he lifts and throws people for a living, so he can make days fun for you.

-he will go outside and catch frogs and bugs with you, despite his fear of them.

-he lets you play in mud puddles and sometimes he even joins in with you, but he absolutely hoses you off in the backyard before you two go back inside.

-he lets you braid his hair and play with it, especially after it got super long.

-if you don’t want to do something, he’ll do it himself first to show you it’s not so scary.

-literally spoils you to death with toys, clothes, blankets, pacis, anything he sees that he thinks you may like.

-he’s definitely started a collection of cow print items for baby you to match his ever growing collection of his own.

-he’s helped you start a collection of wwe action figures over the years and he always thinks it’s hilarious when you refuse to keep ones of rey.

-he’s always down to play minecraft with you or watch cartoons with no complaints at all.

-lets you have dessert before dinner so he can also have it.

-goes all out for every holiday and occasion, literally decorating your room and the entire house. he lets you pick all of the decorations.

-he praises you for any and everything, constantly reminding you how much he loves you. (he doesn’t want you to feel the way rey made him feel as a kid)

i think that’s all for now, but requests are always open!!

[paperclips37]

Surprisingly got this finished!

Rating has changed.

------

Frank sourly reminded himself that he really should check the weather before going out for a run. Mel was always warning him. His hair plastered uncomfortably to his forehead. He was beginning to shiver worryingly as he wrangled a dripping wet dog back in from the deluge. Suddenly downpour had taken both by surprise. Abby had taken the kids to see her sister. A sister who was terrified of dogs. Or just wanted an excuse to annoy Frank. Rachel had a weird sense of humour. But Zeus was easy company. Droolly and chaotic but better than being alone.

‘Zeus. Come!’ Frank glared at the dog who was whining at him. The messier the weather the better for Zeus. He supposed naming him Zeus jinxed him. God of the sky and thunder. Should have named him Percy. The infernal adorable creature had slipped free and was now an entirely different shade of brown. Zeus could not resist a mud puddle. Or pit. Frank had tripped, released the leash and the dog had taken full advantage.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Eventually Zeus took pity on his part time owner/sitter, trotting over lead clamped in his mouth. Triumphant to Franks misery.

‘Oh you are so kind Zeus. Kinda afraid of getting pneumonia boy.’ Frank scooped up the lead and hurried back to his house. Zeus’s bounding spattering Frank with mud.

This was going to be a nightmare to clean.

He was correct on that count. Zeus loved the rain and mud. But a warm shower spray was the devil. His bathroom was covered in mud and paw prints. As was Frank. Zeus was hiding in Tanner’s bedroom. Dry and clean thank fuck. Frank was properly freezing, a hot shower was needed stat. He quickly stripped off.

A shower that felt like heaven, also benefit of halving his cleaning job. Hosing down the mud in the shower. Fresh and warm sweat pants a soothing delight after a cold afternoon.

Frank pottered around, Zeus bouncing around looking for his dinner. The lure of food enough to be forgiven for the injustice of the shower. He sat on the kitchen island watching Zeus devour his food. The wagging tail a soothing metronome of sorts. Towel drying his hair. He had to admit the regular exercise, was helping him out. Healthy habits and seemed to be lessening the pressure of his back pain.

Zeus padded over to the couch. Stared up at Frank’s blank face. Whined at the couch and curled up on the floor. Frank did his best to keep him off the couch. Dog and owner knew that the moment he left the room there would be one very content goldendoodle sprawled out in the centre of it. Once there Frank wouldn’t shoo him off. The dog was far too cute and far to aware of that fact.

He rolled his eyes, scrubbing at the back of his head with his towel. He hadn’t bothered putting a shirt back on. Bare feet. He stretched out gently. Post run comfort. An urgent knock echoed in the apartment. Zeus immediately started yapping and bolted to the front door. Frank sighed, slipping down and throwing the towel over his shoulder.

‘Zeus shush. We both know you are sprinting back to that couch the moment I open the door.’ Zeus just yapped louder. An apparent denial of the accusation. Sassy little fucker.

‘Mel!?’ The last person he’d expected to see at his door in the middle of a downpour. Her thick blonde hair was stuck to her face and she was shaking. Lips practically blue. Zeus jumped up for a demanding pets. Then vanished back to his stolen spot as Mel didn’t drop to the floor as usual. ‘Shit. Come in. Are you okay?’

‘M-my car broke down two blocks over. Tried texting but you didn’t answer.’ Frank instinctively patted himself down. Then realised he’d his phone to charge in his bedroom. The phone he had been procrastinating on replacing.

‘Sorry my phone is still switching to silent randomly. I’ll get you a towel. Do you want to hop in the shower?’ The question popped out against his better instincts. Yes she needed to warm up but the idea of her showering with him- in the same house. It was overload.

Something in the universe was out to torture him. Was it for the lying, the stealing, compromising patient care or antics in a past life? Why else would this be happening to him? Mel King was standing in his house, clothes plastered to her frame. A frame he was trying to not stare at. Glasses fogging and staring at him with that look he just couldn’t figure out on her face. Face bone white in the cold.

‘If you don’t m-mind.’

‘Of course. Can’t have my favourite resident coming down with a cold.’ He shouldn’t say that. But it was true. She was his favourite resident. Everyone knew it. They just didn’t talk about it. But it was worth it to see the tiny pleased look that passed over her face. Her cheeks turning pink. Frank tried to keep his voice steady. ‘I’ll leave out something you can throw on and I’ll dry your stuff. I have my own water logged clothes to dry.’

Mel would normally insist on air drying her things. Refusing to alter his bills to her benefit. He was not in the mood for a silly disagreement over a few bucks.

He tugged out his very best towels. Fluffy and huge. She took them with trembling hands. Her her hand jolted at his hand brushed against his. He wasn’t the only one affected. He just wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. She could just be overwhelmed, overstimulated. She may be awkward about his continued shirtlessness.

Frank could have directed her to the main bathroom: but it was still half covered in mud. And dripping wet. She probably won’t have minded too much given the mess was confined to one corner of the room. But for some reason he tried not to think about he led her to his ensuite. Telling himself she’d have more privacy in his room. Not hoping she might get curious and poke around. Mel would never, but Frank wouldn’t mind if she did.

Thank fuck he cleaned his room that morning.

Mel hovered awkwardly in the door frame. Frank was pulling out his smallest spare sweats and a couple of t-shirt options. Just in case something aggravated her. None of these had any tags. Well worn, soft as could be. He’d never be able to look at his garments the same way ever again.

‘Mel you are turning blue. Go shower. Use whatever you want. Tea?’ She nodded mutely and quickly vanished into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of her cheeks flaring red. They were probably a matched set.

He had a few cozy socks that might fit so he dug those out and laid them nearly on his bed next to everything else.

He could hear her moving around and the sounds of clothes hitting the floor. Frank’s brain instantly flooded with images of Mel. Slowly stripping down, wet hair hiding her face as she bent down to take off her-

Get a fucking grip.

She is your friend.

He left as quickly as he could before he something really stupid like offer to join her-

The door was open just a crack. Steam rolled out through the gap. It’d be far too easy. The lightest of pushes would open it fully.

Out. He need to get out. Make that tea and try and wrangle some sort of control over his impulses. Pretend that Mel King wasn’t naked in his shower. That he wasn’t past half hard at the mere idea of it.

The thrum of hot water had him completely freaking out. He had to get himself together. That evil voice in his head was telling him to go see if she wanted company. As he leant against the island trying to control his brain, watching the kettle boil.

Zeus was lying on his back on the couch. Waiting on doting pets.

Sorry pupper, Frank was having a mental crisis first. However Zeus found his adoring audience. Scarpering over to pink cheeked and slightly damp Mel. His clothes swamped her. The bottoms rolled up several times, sinking low on her hips. Too low for his sanity. Combined with the t-shirt which was slipping off one bare shoulder.

Her still dripping clothes were bundled in her arms.

‘My dryer is over here. Everything okay?’ Frank kept his gaze studiously professional and not examining the contents of her arms. She followed quietly behind. His stuff was already in there. Minus the mud spattered joggers. Zeus whined trying to jump up on Mel. She giggled at the floofy monster.

Heel.’ Given his voice lacked any real authority Zeus ignored him. Mel knelt down on the floor as Frank turned on the machine. Petting and scratching the golden pup, laughing as he licked at her cheek.

‘Fine. I know where I stand.’ It almost like the dog stuck it’s tongue out at him. He was totally being punished. However as Mel turned her face up to him. Face stunningly happy he really couldn’t give a shit. His shirt gaped wider than he’d expected. A flash of pale skin and a constellation of dark freckles, a glimpse of dark pink.

Shit shit shit.

‘Tea?’ His voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. He offered her a steeping mug of spearmint tea. Becca had texted him Mel’s favourite brand and strict instructions. Frank tried to keep his eyes off her bare shoulder. But that seemed to be a loosing battle. He hadn’t made note of the freckles on her shoulder. Five.

‘Thank you. And thank you. For the shower. Sorry to just land in on you unexpectedly.’ Mel took the tea with a tiny smile. They padded over to the couch. Zeus bouncing ahead of them to claim his spot. Frank narrowed his eyes. Mutt wasn’t even trying to hide his antics.

‘Anytime.’ He waved off her thanks lightly. ‘Besides if my phone wasn’t a brick I would have known.’ The aroma of the tea was soothing. Mel curled up into the opposite side of the couch. Zeus draped his head on her lap. Happily accepting scratches behind his ear. His tailed whacking into Franks thigh.

‘Still it’s an inconvenience.’

‘You are never an inconvenience.’ She ducked behind her mug. Hiding that little smile she had when he was being an idiot. ‘What happened?’

‘I dropped off Becca at the centre for the week. I’d checked the forecast and did not want to get caught in the rain.’ It was official. Mel was way smarter than he was. ‘Unfortunately the car.... I didn’t like the idea of waiting for the tow truck by myself.’

‘I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come here.’

‘No offence but my other option was waiting in a dead car.... with a leaky roof.’ Mel shrugged with an overly innocent look on her face. Frank pulled his very best fake offended expression.

‘Man do I feel loved.’

What was wrong with him? Was his prefrontal cortex just in the off positions when it came to Mel King? Frank tried to cut himself some slack. She was a beautiful woman. Sitting on his couch. Wearing nothing but his clothes. There was a whole set up here. He was a recovering addict; the fact that he was still maintaining a thread of self control was a marvel.

And he was still shirtless.

Mel hadn’t said anything. Frank was afraid if he went to grab something it would make a thing out of it. But he also didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable with his lack of clothing. Paralysed by now knowing what to do. Then he realised his phone was still on silent.

‘I need to grab my phone. Do you need anything? I was going to pick up something but I also got caught in that-’ He pointed out of the nearest window where a storm was properly raging. Mel shook her head with a small laugh. She’d no doubt set reminders on his phone if he let her. Which Frank definitely would. The Pitt was probably in sheer chaos. For once he was glad he had the weekend off. ‘And had to wrestle a mud covered mutt.’ He mocked glared at the now half asleep bundle of fur. Mel laughed again softly, her hand stroking along his back.

He stood up and tried to leave the room as casually as possible. No doubt his self consciousness leading to the feeling that Mel was watching his every move.

‘Feel free to turn on the TV.’ A hoodie half zipped up felt like a good compromise. He had a bit of cover but it wasn’t making a big deal out of it. He hoped. Abby had sent a photo of the kids dressed up like Wicked characters. He replied with a proud mud covered Zeus.

He flicked open doordash. Frank supposed he should feel a little bad about takeaway during a storm but he was starving and his attempts at cooking this week were depressing at best. Hazardous at worst. The theme song to Buffy filled the room.

‘Cool haven’t watched this in years.’ Frank handed over his phone wordlessly. Silently giving her the choice of places. Mel smiled brightly. He pretended that it wasn’t making this day worth it. He watched as her steady fingers danced over the screen of his phone. Then realising that was probably the creepiest thing he could be doing, he focused back on the TV. Giles lecturing the teenagers over something.

‘Becca hates this.’

‘Really? Thought she’d love it.’

‘She used to. But that episode where Joyce dies....?’ Mel froze staring blankly into nothing. One hand falling to her lap and clenching tightly. She was vanishing into something in her mind. Lost in past. A knot of concern tangled in his chest. Zeus whimpered and licked at her hand. Sensing the shift in Mel from cozy and safe, to lost in her past.

Good boy.

‘... I ahhh.... we found our Mom like that.’ Fuck. That was a horrifying image. He could see it. A much younger Mel and Becca walking in and seeing their Mom gone on the couch. Becca unsure what to do. Anxiety and pain driving her into a tailspin. Mel, a statue next to her. Processing the scene playing out and then taking control as best as anyone could.

Not falling apart until she was alone and everyone else safely hidden away.

‘That’s awful.’

‘Thanks.’ As used as he was to Mel’s ability to have him solidly on the back foot. This was new.

‘What?’

‘Most people say sorry. As though they had any part of it. She had an embolism. Better than the slow death that we were staring at. I guess.’ She shrugged, eyes still lost and dim. Mel had told him about her mom’s cancer diagnosis. Her medical team really inspiring her to go to medical school. He’d assumed that she’d passed in a hospital. Not alone and waiting for her girls to find her.

‘No one knows really what to do. I do remember that episode. Creepy how real it felt.’

‘No music.’

‘Oh yeah. It was unsettling.’

‘Too realistic. I can’t watch that one but the rest of it... It used to be our show..’ Mel pushed her glasses up her nose and tuck a damp lock of hair behind her ear. Zeus hopped up and pottered over to his overly large bed in the corner.

‘My Mom thinks that Buffy is sacrilegious. I prefer your Mom.’ Mel laughed slightly, brushing away at her cheeks. He reached out and left his hand close to her. Not quite touching her leg. But near enough so she knew he was just there.

‘Middle Eastern okay?’

‘As long as you order-’

‘Extra Baba Ganoush already in the basket.’ She passed the phone back and he quickly added in his usual order.

Because Zeus was now sleeping in his own bed. Dreaming of mud puddles and chaos. Mel clung onto one of the pillows to settle herself. The rain continued to hammer the windows. Frank watched briefly the rain streaks and droplets merging. Perfect chorus to fall asleep to.

Mel had even put on the original Buffy movie. Absolutely horrendous but so much fun to roll his eyes at. The pair of them bantering over the campy movie. Food arrived and the delivery guys irritation was erased by Mel’s effusive thanks. As well as the picture of her still in his clothes.

Frank was not a big guy but she was still swamped. He idly remembered that the dryer was probably done. But neither of them seemed inclined to fetch her clothes.

A cold wet something pressed into his cheek. Frank tried waving it off wanting to go back to sleep. Warm breath rushed over his face. The patter of rain. A dog’s panting hovered in his ear.

‘Zeus. Go back to bed.’ Frank frowned. Zeus was only allowed into his room post call. The dark brown eyes were right in front of him. The angles were off. And the TV was in his room?

Oh he was on the couch.

Not great for his back. But it wasn’t so bad. When did he get a weighted blanket? A warm presence was lying across his chest. Cosy and comfortable. Her skin soft and satiny-

Her skin?

Mel was directly on top of him. Sound asleep. His hand spread across her back. Apparently his sleep self had shoved up his t-shirt. A blessing and a curse. Her legs firmly bracketing one of his. Frank swallowed heavily. Feeling the pressure of her hand on his chest.

Fuck.

Apparently Mel had felt the shift in her pillow. She murmured something intelligible and started wriggling against him.

Fuck.

Her glasses looked like they were digging into her face painfully. Frank did his best to take them off without waking her up. Not until he managed to move them into a less suggestive position-

On the couch.

Of course he brain instantly autofilled in a bunch of suggestive positions. Mel straddling him. Yanking off his hoodie. Her eyes shinning darkly down at him. Or him all but throwing her to the ground...

Get that out of your mind NOW.

Unfortunately his body was not exactly responding in the same fashion. He could feel himself hardening against her. There was no way he was getting back to sleep now. Mel’s nails dug into his chest.

Fuck.

He managed to get her glasses onto the coffee table without dropping them. But they clattered loudly as his fine motor skills lessened. Who could blame him when Mel was on top of him. His clothes not much of a barrier to feeling her against him. Nails biting into his skin.

‘Hmm...’ She started moving again. Her hips rocking up against him. Nothing Frank could imagine or scream at himself could stop his physical reaction to her. Not when she was moving like that and letting out the most sinful sighs. Warmth swiftly raged into a fire. Burning upwards from the damping spot on his thigh.

‘Frank.’

He stared down at her. His hand still panning the expanse of her back. God she was so tiny against him. But that was definitely his name she moaned. His name. The old man name that sounded so fucking good when Mel King was moaning it. In her sleep.

He watched, breath caught in his throat as her head twisted up towards him. Her dark eyes fluttering opening slowly. There was a severe risk of hypoxia given how long he was holding his breath for. It took a far too quick a moment for Mel to put together the pieces of the situation they were currently in.

Frank couldn’t have stopped his eyes flicking down to her lips as they formed a silent ‘oh’. Even if he wanted to. Which he certainly didn’t. They were both adults. Physical reactions could be chalked up to hormones and stimuli. Reactions. But Frank knew his responses were fuelled by something deeper. But he’d let her take the lead.

They were friends. Colleagues. He liked to think of himself as her mentor. Frank had so much baggage. Recovery, the kids, Abby to name a few. Mel had her own struggles and responsibilities. She was young, had to many other less problematic options. 

Mel knew him. Understood him better than most people.

It had to be her choice.

She bit down on her lip. Thinking. Mel looked determined as she placed her hands on the couch, on either side of his head. Offering him a direct view down his tee as she raised herself up. Hovering directly over his face. Maybe daring him to look. Without her glasses; her eyes were even larger and more dazzling. Mel waited inspecting his face for something. For once he didn’t trying to mask how important she was. Didn’t trying to control his reactions to her.

Not that he was doing a great job given she was still pressed up against his hips. It was taking every ounce of restraint to not thrust up into her.

Her now dry hair, wavy and full seemed to block out everything around them.

Mel shifted, throwing the leg that had been between his legs to the other side of his hips. Fully surrounding him. An evil smirk passed across her lips, bottom lip slightly red and swollen from her biting down on it.

Oh fuck it that should be his job.

He let the hand that was still on her back tighten just enough to tug her a little. Enough to tell her his intentions but giving her enough room to duck out if she needed to.

She didn’t.

Some assumed (Shen. Frank had overheard him wonder to one of the radiographers one night shift) that Mel would be all gentleness and grace when in bed. Maybe even passive.

Frank had rolled his eyes at the time.

Nah. Mel threw herself into her passions. You could hear it in her voice when she spoke about her interests. The way she lit up when someone actually listened to her. When comfortable she was brave.

Tonight was no different.

Maybe classifying the kiss as brave sounded weird but that’s what it was.

And incredibly fucking hot. Teeth, tongue and lips. He was quick to follow through on biting down on her lip to see what reaction he’d get.

The most thrilling little gasp.

Noted.

She dragged a hand through his hair. He was well aware that his floppy hairstyle worked for many people. He could be vain too. But it felt very different when Mel fucking King was pulling his hair. Instinctively the hand was not still on her back grabbed her thigh. He couldn’t stop the smirk at her muffled utterance of fuck.

It was his turn to swear as she pulled back. Pupils blown wide. Hair tumbling over her shoulder in waves that he desperately wanted to pull, hard. Her smirk at him damned nearly finished him.

‘Mel-’

Her fist clenched around his half open hoodie and with far more strength than he’d expected she’d pulled him so he was sitting up. So now she was sitting on him, chests pressed together.

Whatever he was going to say promptly evaporated. Her eyebrow arched. The mischievous look in her eyes draining all blood to his dick.

‘Yes?’ She sounded so innocent so sweet. Said at the exactly moment she thrust down against him. Instinctively he bit down on her shoulder. Probably far too hard but the uncontrolled thrust and deep moan Mel let out said otherwise. She’d be bruised for sure. A baser part of his brain was delighted with the idea. His.

She yanked down the zipper of his hoodie way too hard. Possibly bending them. Spoke to the level of need. He really didn’t care. The loss of contact with her skin had him feeling cold. As coordinated in this moment as they were at work.

If Frank had had sense or reason left in his brain he might question how hot he found that fact. Luckily not so much in this moment.

The ripples of heat that flared through him as Mel started a far from professional exploration of his chest. Nails scratching down, pausing just shy of the top of his sweats. As though marking him as hers. He’d happily accept the branding.

As much as he was enjoying Mel being in charge. It was unfair that he was the least dressed party at this event. He threw the hoodie into a random corner of the room. Mel giggling into his shoulder as something crashed to the ground. He snuck both his hands under the well worn fabric of his t-shirt and paused. Waiting for her.

She pulled back and arched her back just a bit.

Mel King was going to be the death of him. Helping him get the shirt off over her head. No bra. Out of its braid her hair fluttered down to mid chest. Thick blonde waves that he brushed back behind her shoulders. She shivered at the touch. The flush of pink that was rapidly spreading down to her chest. He traces the blush with his finger tips. She whimpered, actually whimpered as he cupped her breast.

‘Fuck. You are beautiful.’ His voice had dropped. Taking a moment to just see her. Fight back the urge to trace the constellations of freckles with his teeth. Later.

Apparently his staring was only allowed for so long. With a noise that was either impatience or a whimper Mel all but slammed her lips back down at him. In a move he’d probably regret over the next few days he grabbed onto her ass. Her scrubs did her absolutely no fucking justice.

(Probably just as well because with this new information Frank would likely be unable to focus on anything other than that.)

(He was going to struggle for evermore. Totally worth it.)

Quickly and much more smoothing than he’d ever managed to be previously he got to his feet. Even though Mel murmured something about his back... She still wrapped her legs around him instinctively.

Fucking hell.

He was so close it was embarrassing.

‘Fuck my back.’ He muttered as he blindly directed them to his bedroom.

‘I’d rather you fuck me.’

This woman was going to be the death of him. It was unfair she was this sweet, competent (yes he had a thing for that sue him), sexy and hilarious?

Frank Langdon.

Cause of Death: Melissa King.

He wasn’t unopposed to such an epitaph. Figured it would be fitting as she ground down against him.

So completely unfair. Time to even the playing field a little bit. Frank kept his eyes locked on Mel’s increasingly dark ones. Lips tracing his hands previous path down her chest. He was right. Her skin was beyond soft. Her strong slender hands threaded into his hair. Nails scratching his scalp. Her lips ticked up as she felt his responding shudder. His lips closed around her right nipple. She pulled hard.

There was that delicious whimper again as he nipped at her with his teeth.

He felt a little hollow as one of her hands left his hair. But then her hand scratched down his torso. Flicking over his nipple. She dragged his head back up for another kiss. Then that strong delicate hand snaked under his sweats and wrapped around his dick.

‘Fuck.’ He hissed loudly.

‘Frank, please.’ Her hand twisted and rolled in a move that had to be fucking illegal. A sobering thought hit him.

‘Mel, shit, Mel I don’t have any condoms.’ Her head tilted watching his face contort. She didn’t stop moving her hand. She was going to be the end of him.

‘I have an IUD. If you’re okay with that. You get screened regularly right? I do.’

Sweet holy mother of fuck.

It took every inch of self control Frank had (one could argue he had little of that) to not cum right there and then.

‘Mel. Are you sure?’ Now it was his turn to whimper as she removed her hand.

‘Don’t I look sure?’ She did. She really really did. ‘I trust you.’ Frank rolled them both over onto the bed. He kissed her again, slower and deeper. Almost lazy. Letting the heat of the moment rolling over them again. Building a lasting slow heat. He was going to make her fall apart in ways she hadn’t with anyone else.

Call it male ego. Or his competitive streak. Didn’t matter.

She was rolling and rocking her hips against him, moaning and swearing as he moved his way down her body. He paused as he reached the waistband of his sweats. Staring up at her. Her chest was heaving but she looked confused.

‘Mel?’

‘You can just fuck me, why do you want to...’ Frank pulled back slightly.

‘Mel. Are you serious? As anyone ever gotten you off like this?’ Who in the hell had turned down the opportunity to worship Mel King? Idiots the lot of them.

‘No man anyway.’ She smirked as his eyes rounded in surprise. That was quite the way to tell him.

‘Well I think I need to even the score. As for wanting to.... Mel I have been dying to do this for longer than I should admit to.’ Her eyes widened at his confession. Darkening as watched him toy with the knot on his sweats. Mel had been haunting his dreams almost from the get go. 

He was sure there was some weird psych take on how much like enjoyed taking his own pants off Mel. Like she was marked or something.

She hadn’t been wearing underwear almost the entire time she had been in his apartment.

Frank took a second to process the thought and control his dick. He was not going to loose it before he got her off.

Mel half muttered something about not shaving. Seriously she was naked and glistening before him. He could not have given less of shit. In fact he took his time working his way up her legs.

She was absolutely drenched by the time he gently started to trace his fingers along her vulva. He waited again, giving her a moment to centre herself.

‘Oh god.’ Her voice sounded wrecked in the best possible way. ‘P-please.’ Who was he to say no to that plea. She was so responsive to his touch. Sweet, rich and tangy. If this was the last thing he’d ever tasted he’d die a happy man. Her hands digging and damn near pulling his hair out.

Jesus fucking Christ. He thrust against the bed instinctively. He was really going to have to focus to last the night.

One of his weaknesses. But then again the moan she let out as he flattened his tongue against her clit... Mel King might just be his weakness as well as his strength. Slowly and so carefully, giving her enough time to adjust he worked a finger into her.

She damn near screamed his name. He raised his eyebrows at her cheekily. One of her hands reaching down for him. He grabbed on to her continuing to fuck her with his other hand and his tongue. Frank made a vow to himself to try and earn this privilege every single fucking chance he got.

Her back arched beautifully of the bed as she moaned his name, trembling and shuddering. Mel King orgasming against his face was one of the most amazing things in the world.

There was also that very male satisfaction at being better than any other man she’d been with.

He was going to have to ask about the girlfriends. If she wanted to share.

He kissed and nipped his way back up her body again. Giving her enough time to settle back down to earth.

‘Hmm.’ He planted a wet kiss against her cheek and she laughed. Tugging him over for another one of those slow deep kisses that had her curling around him.

‘Frank.’ God his old man name sounded so fucking good in Mel’s deep breathing orgasmic glow.

‘Yeah?’

‘Take off your pants. Now.’

‘Yes Dr. King.’ Her flush deepened, her knees falling open. Another fact to note. She scooted a little closer watching him closely.

Oh she wasn’t wearing her glasses so she had to shift closer. Watching him through her lashes.

Fuck that was hot.

He stood up and quickly tossed his sweats into the corner. Mel scooted further, placing both her feet on the ground. Her eyes scanning every inch of his exposed body. One hand pressed against his tattoo and the other reached down.

‘Mel-’

‘You can pull my head back but don’t pull me forward.’ She ordered him quietly throwing her wild hair back behind her shoulders. A clear invitation.

Fuck.

It should be a crime for her to so innocently sweet as she wrapped her hand around his dick. Absolutely debased. Then she leaned forward and pressed her tongue against him.

‘Mel-’ His hand instantly diving into her hair. Dancing over her scalp but not directing her. Not that she needed any. She worked his up slowly, swirling her tongue in the most devious ways. Taking him much deeper than he’d ever have suspected. The moan against him, around him... Nearly brought him to his knee.

During the last heatwave Abbot had ordered an ice cream truck to the Pitt. He and Mel had sat on one of the nearby benches. He’d had a magnum. If Abbot was paying he’d quipped to Mel. Then stopped dead as he watched her licking at her classic ice cream. Her pink tongue catching a melted drop from her delicate wrist. 

It's exactly how she looked right now.

He was never going to be able to look at an ice cream the same way again. Or had to make sure there was somewhere private to drag her to.

‘Shit.’ He could feel the orgasm ramping up. He tapped her scalp twice giving her a signal before he pulled on her hair. The release of her mouth on him sounded absolutely obscene in the quiet of the room. He sank to his weakened knees and pulled her hair back.

So they both enjoyed hair pulling. Good. Her jaw which was already slackened by working around him, dripping with his precum and saliva fell open further.

‘The things you do to me.’ He groaned against her shapely neck. Biting down behind her ear. Leaving a bruise that she’d be able to hide but he had to.

She owned him body and soul. Only fair she feel some of that same thing.

‘Frank.’ She wailed against him.

Yeah any control had snapped. He climbed over hear as she pushed herself back on the bed. Trembling. Needing him.

‘Please.’

‘Anything you want Sweetheart.’ Her breath shook against his ear.

‘I want you.’

Fuck.

He was a lucky bastard. He kissed her again. Mel wrapped one arm around his shoulder. The other hand once again resting against his tattoo. Guess she liked it. Then she hooked her legs over his hips. Heels digging into his ass. Pleasure turned white hot as she pressed her even more drenched cunt up against him.

He knew an invite when he saw it. Felt it.

But he still stopped. Pulling back to look her full in the face. Letting her know she could say no anytime. He needed her like oxygen but he’d only follow her lead on this. Her brown eyes softened sweetly and she nodded.

‘Please.’

He pressed his forehead against her. Pressing of of his forearms on the bed next to her. The other hand skimming over her. Tweaking a nipple cheekily before guiding himself into her.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Mel was already panting so wantonly as he carefully thrust up into her. Inch by inch. She was so fucking tight. Fluttering and clenching around him perfectly.

He was not going to last long.

Shit.

‘Mel, god.’ He was barely aware of his babbling. He never really could shut up. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Frank!’ He was doing everything in his power to take care of her. Not rush this. But Mel in her unique way simply wasn’t having it. Her lips bruised and swollen quirked upwards and then she moved. Her legs tightening and pulling him.

Suddenly in a moment he was fully seated inside her.

‘Oh.’

‘Mel. Jesus.’

‘I asked you to fuck me.’ How was she coherent enough for a full fucking sentence. She was so cheeky and smug beneath him. ‘Hard.’

His competitive streak burned hotly.

A challenge.

Fine. Mel King wanted a challenge. Well he was going to give her exactly what she asked for. Pulling back enough to get her right leg even higher he pulled back. Almost slipping out of her.

Then he slammed back into her. Her delighted shriek was better than anything he’d ever heard in the bedroom before.

It made sense. Mel sometimes needed out of her own head. For her mind to be shut out by the reactions of her nervous system. This was going to be hard, messy and far too fast. He snapped his hips back and forth repeatedly setting a brutal pace. Muttering absolutely obscenities in her ear. About how perfect she was around him. So tight. Reacting so perfectly.

Such a good girl taking him so hard.

Her second orgasm had her screaming his name. Her back barely in contact with the bed under here. As she rode it out, his own crashed down over him. Blinding white hot pleasure damn nearly causing him to pass out on top of her.

Slowly he drifted back to full awareness. His face pressed in against her boobs. God he was in heaven. He looked up to see her dozing lightly. Her cheeks still flush pink. It felt cold as he slipped his softening dick out of her. She murmured unhappily at the sensation. He unsteadily got to his feet, pausing to pressed a kiss to her lips. She smiled against him but didn’t open his eyes.

Luckily he had a number of small cotton soft towels in his bathroom. Damping one with warm water he sat down on the bed next to her.

‘Sweetheart?’ Mel didn’t open her eyes but did open her legs. Fuck this woman was going to kill him.

‘You okay?’ He reached up to brush some of her sweat dampened hair back off her face. Her long lashed flickered.

‘Nice dream. Don’t wanna wake up.’ He smirked. Then slowly and carefully gently started to clean her up. Her eyes opened and scanned the room blearily. Squinting at him. Taking in the mutual nakedness.

‘Not a dream.’ Her eyes blinked slowly at him. Watching as he took care of her. Wrapping the soiled towel in one of his scrub tops and throwing it into the laundry basket.

‘Well... I guess I’m your dream guy eh?’ He pressed soft kisses against her neck as she giggled. Such a sweet sound.

‘Pretty grateful for that piece of crap car of yours.’ Much to his disappointment she pulled back on his t-shirt but it was getting a little cold. Rain still belted down outside.

‘It’s not a piece of crap. It’s a classic.’ Mel sounded as haughty as he’d ever heard her. Undercut somehow by her laugh.

‘It was raining inside Mel.’

‘Water feature.’ Frank rolled his eyes at her innocent shrug. He looked around for his sweatpants. Mel scooped them up from the other side of the bed. Watching as he pulled them on. Looking as disappointed as he felt when she pulled on his t-shirt.

‘Do you mind if I take a shower- alone?’ He pouted at the idea but quickly fetched another towel for her. The sheets were soaked through. So best to change them while Mel was shower. She squinted at him, a light blush forming on her skin again. He followed her gaze.

Ahh more than a few scratch marks. Clear even in the late evening light.

‘Sorry about that.’ Mel didn’t really sound all that sorry.

‘No I like it.’ Her blush grew but she stepped forward to trace some of the marks. His shuddered under her touch.

‘Really?’

‘Couldn’t you tell?’ Her smile grew as he wrapped his arms around her. She started drawing patterns with her finger. They were both two tired for another round but god she had him hook line and sinker.

‘I liked it too.’ She was so small against him, head resting his chest. Murmuring something against his chest.

‘What?’ Mel’s blush somehow deepened, burrowing into his skin. ‘Mellllll.’ Unable to resist the urge to lower his hand to her ass. ‘You can tell me.’

‘I was thinking...’ He tilted her head to look him fully in the face. Her face glowing brightly. ‘Well... that people would...’ Frank at the fight the urge to laugh. She looked so cute when embarrassed.

‘If you happened to loose your shirt again they’d know.’

Oh.

Well that was the hottest thing she’d ever said.

‘Staking your claim eh?’ She lifted herself on her tiptoes, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. He could see the purple red bruise blooming behind her ear. She wasn’t the alone possessive one.

‘If you could keep your shirt on than I wouldn’t have to.’ She muttered against his lips. Frank moved her up against the wall, bunching his t-shirt up her back. Marvelling at how much of her skin he could cover with a single hand. Mel moaned as he yanked his t-shirt off again. He shoved a leg in between hers, immediately she groaned and ground down against his leg.

‘Jealous?’ He kept his voice low and deep. He’d noticed a long time ago that Mel reacted to his deeper register. Perhaps he’d used it at work every so often. When a patient got a little too flirty with her. A way of proving that only he’d get that reaction.

Yeah he was a jealous possessive fucker too.

‘Y-Yes.’ Mel shook beautifully as he bit down behind her ear again. 'I just want...' She whined as he moved his hand to cup her. He hummed against her waiting for her to try to finish her thought. 'People to- ahhh.' Once again she was soaking through his sweats. Amazing that this was happening to him now. 

'Know what? come on tell me.' Mel rocked hard against his hand, getting pressure exactly where she needed it. He smirked as she whined against him again. Mel threw her head back against the wall.

'That- that- you're- you're.' Frank hoisted her up further against the wall. Mel wrapped her legs around him again. 'MINE.' She screeched once again, coming so hard that she almost passed out.

'Property of Mel King. Sounds like a dream.'

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

The first time Billy Hargrove felt a thunderstorm shake Hawkins, he thought his rage must have borne it to life. 

He'd been driving toward the quarry, fresh blood on his teeth and a throb in his left eye when the skies ahead unleashed their fury. The wind picked up and the rain fell so heavily that he had to pull over because he couldn't see the road anymore. And instead of waiting out the danger in the safety of the driver's seat like a normal person…

Billy had gotten out to meet it. 

The rain had stung the wounds on his bare skin but he didn't care. No. It made him feel clean… .like the storm was washing away all his shame…all his sins. 

He screamed at the darkened sky and let his ire be known. He was done with this town. Done with his dad. Done with his pain. 

Done with this fucking life that he didn't even fucking ask for. 

He didn't ask to be born . 

So he'd screamed his grievances into the wind until his anger faded, until his body no longer shook with it. He'd screamed until his voice was raw, until the lightning stopped flashing. He's stood on the side of that sad gravel road until the rain became a drizzle and the tears no longer flowed. 

That first time he let the wet clothes cling to his body until his skin chilled and he shook with cold, because they didn't get thunderstorms like this in Cali. They didn't get storms that made him feel so…. alive .  So when that storm rolled away from him, disappearing into the distance, Billy decided that there was maybe one good thing about this shit town after all. 

Well, one thing other than Steve Harrington. 

***

Steve has never liked rain. When he was little, if he ever stepped in a puddle his mother would throw a fit about him trekking mud through the house, and when the thunder scared him in the middle of the night he'd try to find comfort in her arms, but his father put a stop to that when he was four. He'd lay awake all night hiding under his covers, under his bed, waiting for the booming to stop. 

Now, it isn't scary. He's not afraid . It just makes his house feel even more empty, the dull sky painting everything gray.  

Lonely.

Cold. 

Plus, he spends an hour on his hair. If it gets wet, it's game over. So rain is no bueno in his book.

Or it used to be. 

Until he'd seen Billy Hargrove, head thrown back and hair dripping in the middle of a downpour, laughing and screaming into the rain.

And look, he'd never given boys much of a thought before…but when he saw Billy…clothes clinging to his body and rain droplets running down his throat….it did something in him. 

Did something to him. 

He felt …moved . Or some shit.

Like it felt…poetic in a way…made Steve want to stick around. To see what may happen. 

But he didn't approach him. He never could bring himself too. He couldn't handle the weird feeling inside of him, so he just watched silently from the safety of his car as the thunder boomed as loud as his heartbeat, drowning out the sound of Billy's captivating insanity. 

***

Billy isn't sure when someone joined in on his little trips. One day, he just realized that he was being followed. And what had started out as anger and irritation at being watched in such a vulnerable moment had ended up becoming somewhat of a game to him once he'd figured out who his shadow was. 

Because it was the King of Hawkins High himself. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

And it's not like Harrington was being subtle either. Billy would always spot his beamer slowing down, or if he ended up in the junkyard, he'd always hear a car's tires crackling on gravel not far away. 

He could feel those brown eyes on his face, following his movements as he paced back and forth in front of the Camaro, or when he'd take a bat to some beat up rust buckets. He just knew he was watching him closely and he wouldn't leave until Billy did. 

But since Harrington never bothered to get out or approach him, he just let it slide. Who cared if the other boy saw his deranged little act? If he told anyone, it would just give Billy more of a reputation as being someone these country bumpkins shouldn't fuck with. 

So, he let him watch. He let him see and hear the fury that lived inside him. And if he cried, how would Harrington even know ? It was fucking raining . 

Then winter came and he didn't see hide nor hair of the other boy. He may catch a look or two in the hall, but that was it. He wouldn't turn a corner and see the beamer waiting for him. He'd been so used to seeing him that it was almost…strange to not have him in his rearview mirror. 

By New Years Day he realized he kind of misses his little stalker.  So when the cold left and spring showers replaced the chill of February, Billy finally decided to do something about it. 

Because he needs to know why. Why Harrington is following him around whenever it rains? What he is even getting out of it. Because when Billy is looking that closely at someone….it's because he likes them. He's interested in them. In the Biblical way. 

Which is 100% good with Billy. 

In fact, If Harrington is anything like him, then he's going to need answers pronto. No matter what. Because he hasn't found anyone else like him in this town. He can't let this chance slip away. 

So, when he finally sees the beamer pull up just down the lane from where he's currently kicking rocks, he decides to make his move. 

***

Steve was surprised that Billy never approached him. He had to know that he was there. The guy wasn't dumb. But he never said anything, so maybe he doesn't care.

Maybe he is fine with Steven following him. 

So he just keeps doing it. 

He only takes a break when it's too cold for rain and chasing him around school would be too obvious. 

But it's warm again now. And it's storming. The thunder is so loud, in fact, that he is more focused on the crashing overhead and doesn't notice that Billy has spotted him and is walking right up to his passenger side window until he knocks on it. 

And like an idiot, Steve rolls it down. "Can I help you?" He asks, voice slightly shaky. The words sound haughty but he knows he's in the wrong here. He's been caught red handed this time. 

"I don't know, Harrington, you tell me."  He replies, and Steve can see the smirk on his face as the sky lights up once more. "You're the stalker." 

Heat flares up his neck and covers his face. "I'm not…" He starts and then stops himself. The jig is up. "OK, OK. Maybe what I'm doing could be considered…stalking…maybe but I'm not…I'm not trying to be…" 

"Creepy?" Billy finishes, and Steve nods. They both just stare at each other for a few seconds before Billy wiggles the handle and sighs loudly when it doesn't budge. "Well, are you gonna let me in or not?" 

Steve should probably hesitate and think about this a little more, but he doesn't. Instead, he just unlocks it and let's Billy slide into the seat beside him. 

They are both quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the rain against the roof of the car and his heart beating in his ears. He doesn't know what to say. 'Sorry' just doesn't seem sincere, because he's not sorry.  

He is simply curious. 

He just wants to know why Billy is always out here, letting himself drown in the rain. What can he possibly get out of it? It can't feel nice. Right? 

"So, you gonna tell me why you’re fucking following me or-?" 

Steve groans and runs a hand down his face. "Fuck. I don't…I don't know man. I just got…curious or whatever. I kept seeing you out at the quarry and I just…I couldn't stop watching you." 

"Sounds like you got the hots for me." 

Again his whole body heats up because…"What?! Nuh- no, what the fuck ?" 

Billy laughs and it sounds pretty nice to be honest. "It's fine, Harrington. I don't particularly mind." 

Well, that's… unexpected.

It's quiet again so he finally takes the time to actually look over at him and now that he's this close, he can see the fresh blood on Billy's lip. He can see the discoloration around his left eye. Things start coming together in his brain. This isn't the first time 

"You're bleeding." 

He pulls out a cigarette and cringes when he sees that the pack is wet. "No, shit." 

Steve pulls one out of his own pack and hands it to him. "You get in a lot of fights?" 

Billy shrugs and lights it up, taking a big hit before looking out the window. 

It makes Steve uncomfortable. Like he's stumbling onto something he shouldn't…but he can't stop himself from asking. "Why do you scream when it rains, Billy?" 

The blonde takes two more drags of his cigarette before replying, "You really wanna know?" Steve can only nod. "It's the only time I can cry without repercussions and no body cares how loud or angry I am." 

Steve thinks about that for a second. He could literally scream himself to death at home and not bother a soul. There wasn't anyone at home to bother. But obviously this isn't the case for Billy. 

"I'm sorry," he says, and he means it. 

Again Billy shrugs. "It's not a big deal. So I piss my old man off sometimes. It doesn't matter." 

Before he can think better of it he blurts out, "Yes, it does. No one should hit their kid." 

Suddenly the door is open and Billy is escaping out onto the rain.

He has no choice but to follow him. "Wait! Stop!" 

Billy whirls around, lightning crashing behind him. His eyes are angry, and Steve thinks he hasn't seen anything more beautiful. "Fuck you! I didn't fucking say that-" 

Steve steps forward, unphased by Billy's anger. He can handle it. At least it's an emotion directed at him.  "You didn't have to, but it doesn't matter." He tells him, speaking slowly, palms up, rain dripping down his face. "I can read between the lines just fine. And I won't say anything. Just like how I never said anything about, " he fans his arms out, motioning to everything, " this ."

But Billy looks skeptical. "Harrington." 

"I can help." He insists because this is something even someone like him can do. "Or like…let me stand here by you. You don't have to do all of it alone."  

The rain slows to a drizzle and he can clearly see a tiny sliver of hope flash across Billy's face. "Are you sure you can handle me? You've seen what I do out here." 

Steve takes another step forward and this time Billy doesn't move away. "I don't think I'll have a problem with that." 

A smirk from that mouth and a chuckle make Steve melt. "Well, alright then, pretty boy. Let's see what you can do." 

[toomanythoughts2]

You know what. FUCK IT.

Dethklok Age Regression HCs because Facebook is full of a bunch of jackasses who can't stand to let people be people in regression spaces.

+ They all have matching footie PJs that they wear during their movie nights. They all correspond to their specific instrument but it's very clearly a set of 5 (don't separate)

+ Murderface uses a white noise machine when he's little to sleep. He sets it up on the cricket sound, and sometimes, he wants cicadas and rain on a thin roof. He also likes people talking muffled from a room away or a TV.

+ Pickles has attempted to shave while regressed and has fully messed up his goatee before, bringing him to tears. Nathan had to console him while holding back laughter because he was just missing a chunk out of his goatee and he looked funny.

+ Skwisgaar has a very wild imagination while little and while have very intricate play scenes with action figures and dolls, usually portraying wizards, dragons, Vikings, royalty. He's very shy about it though.

+ You know what. Skiwsgaar also plays with baby dolls. He has a stash of baby dolls that he rocks and swaddles and gently plays with and coos because that's what he wanted growing up, and it makes him happy. He is very shy about it though and only plays when he knows for sure he's by himself. He will not play with them when others are watching or are in the room.

+ Nathan pouts a lot when he's little. Not like throwing a tantrum or getting upset and having a melt down, he just pouts. He pouts because he ate his last chip, he pouts because his episode ended, he pouts when Pickles stops petting his head, he pouts when the couch doesn't feel right. He's a very pouty baby.

+ Pickles is in charge of rubbing Nathan's back when Nathan is small. He has back issues due to his size and sometimes the pain is too much when he's small. Pickles does this already when he's big, but it's different how Nathan asks for them. If Nathan is big, he'll ask for them regularly but if he's small, he'll flop himself over Pickles' lap and pout until he gets the picture.

+ Murderface has to be physically restrained from eating his boogers. Honestly, this doesn't even have to be an Age Regression HC. He does this regularly.

+ Murderface plays in the rain. He likes to go out and play in mud and splash in puddles and pick up worms, and build dams. He likes to stick his tongue out and watch the water droplets and when he comes inside, he'll shake his whole body like a dog. His hair will get poofy. Nathan sometimes joins him, growing up in Florida, so he's no stranger to some rainy weather fun. Except he likes his water boots on.

+ Pickles will orchestrate a one-man "gig" and put together a make believe stage. He'll have a "bar" (caprisuns and apple juice in a cooler), a "bouncer" (Charles) looking for a "ticket" (a piece of paper Pickles scribbled "Ticket" on), and a tiny dancefloor/mosh pit. He'll play guitar and sing some made up song and his party guests are meant to go crazy at his concert. At the end, he has to run away from all of his crazy fans back to the safety of his room (the band plays chase with Pickles room being base).

+ You need to keep mayo away from Pickles. He will squirt the bottle in his mouth and eat it all. Once again, this doesn't even have to be an Age Regression HC, this is just something he does.

+ Skiwsgaar likes to draw his "dream house" using cut-out images of IKEA furniture. He's only allowed to use safety scissors and safety glue for his pictures. He hates them and would rather just lick the edges of the paper and tear out the images. He ends up drawing stick figures for the band because his dream house always has 5 bedrooms for all members of the band. It wouldn't be his dream house without them.

+ Nathan goes through Pickles closet all of the time when he's little. He's very curious and likes feeling all of the different textures of Pickles' old SNB clothes and look through old photos and listen to their old songs. Pickles will usually find him neck deep in old SNB stuff before he realizes he's there.

+ Toki and Murderface are tree climbers. They grew up climbing trees and it's one of the only places where they had privacy growing up, so it helps them regulate their emotions when they're too small to fully understand them. Toki likes to hang upside down while Murderface wants to get as far up as possible to see how tall the tree is. + Nathan has Pica, which is where a person eats things that are not usually food. Nathan is able to control it, as it is not a curable disorder, but when he is small, it's harder for him, so he will resort to eat things like chalk, paper, and crayons (wax). But when it gets worse, he can be found eating the furniture's leather or even trying to eat the wood off the tables (both of which are literal examples of Pica) The band has to keep an eye on hm and offer him alternatives to stop him from doing it.

+ Skwisgaar is a wiz at making snow cream and will make it when he's feeling small and it's winter. He makes it in large batches and eats his with the rest of the band out of the same tub. He made a lot of snow cream as a child as he grew up in poverty and had to routinely eat snow. Now, it's more of a choice than a need.

+ Pickles has a bike for when he's feeling small. He'll ride around Mordhaus and ride through all of the acres around Mordhaus and just explore the area, much like how he did as a small child in Wisconsin. He'll come back sweaty and sore but he'll get one of the best naps right afterwards. Charles has cameras watching him every where he rides just to be sure he doesn't get hurt or if he does, someone is there to get him.

+ Murderface likes to play old Floppy Disk games when little. He has an Apple II, an Atari, and a IBM PC. He likes playing Oregon Trail, Fight Simulator, Pac-Man, and Frogger. He'll sit and play those games for hours, much like he did as an actual child growing up. It's something about the simplicity of the game that make them so hypnotic to help.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi! I dunno if this has been requested already but could we please get a platonic Yandere Azure Lion and MK? I can’t really think of a plot except for maybe Azure taking MK away so he can be “safe”.

Indigo Ephialtes

“Have you never had a nightmare before, cub?”

There’s concern and curiosity in that voice, both in multitudes. Each word drips with worry, paired with a powerful stroking up and down MK’s back.

The teen can’t bring himself to respond, of course. He’s too much too busy wiping away tears and trying to forget about the grim visions that have endlessly plagued his mind for the last month. Every night brings a new twisted scene, one that leaves MK shaking and sweating, fighting back tears while staring at the ceiling and praying for it to collapse across his quivering form.

He never use to have nightmares.

Not unless sickness had settled beneath the skin and plagued him with virulence. It was only when MK had to sit and stew that his brain was allowed to run wild with nauseating thoughts and putrid fears, chilling his skin worse than any cold ever could.

He’d wake up thrashing- throwing punches and picks to shadow-box enemies that existed only in the hazy corners of his worn eyes. And in every ‘fight’, he was to lose. MK would collapse to the floor in short order, sobbing into hands that he had beaten bloody against the headboard of his bed.

Those were the nightmares he grimly dreamt.

Back when Mei was a call away and would spend the whole night talking him back to calmness. When Pigsy would trudge upstairs with a fresh bowl of noodles and a handful of bandages. When Mr. Tang would soothe him back to sleep with an old story.

But his family isn’t here right now, are they?

“-ub. Cub. Cub, are you- MK!”

The teen snaps from his daydreams, ripped from the pleasant and warm thoughts of his family and the tenderness they provided.

“MK, my little cub, I’ve been talking to you for a while now. Were you… simply not listening?”

Disapproval in some small measure, negative ideations blooming in Azure’s ever-delusional mind.

The mere idea that his ‘cub’ might to some small degree reject even a mote of his fatherly love has started a snowball effect before. One little negative thing builds to a crafted tower, then the leonine beast topples it with his own inability to see truth and reason.

And then MK spends the rest of the day ‘grounded’, locked up tight in his room and cut from the few possessions that his unwanted caretaker saw fit to garnish the room with.

“No,” he chokes out, the lie thick and clumsy on his tongue. Azure raises an eyebrow, considering but not quite convinced. So then the boy sees fit to grinds out the one word he’s come to hate more than any other: “Papa.”

That is something that the lion takes at face value, every last time he hears it. Pulling it from MK’s mouth is harder than pulling teeth, so he cherished every moment that those two syllables left the boy’s lips.

“Of course not,” he coos, stroking the teen’s hair. It’s unsettling, how sharply the cyan creature changes his mood. But he’s in a better one now, all for a single word he longs to hear again and again and again. “You’re a good cub, hmm? You would never ignore me simply for the sake of it, would you?”

“No,” the teen lies again.

“You’re a much better cub than that,” the lion agrees, leaning down to nuzzle MK’s cheek, “and you’re too polite and sweet to lie to your papa.”

Already, the miasma of pervading delusion settles deep, reinforcing Azure’s beliefs.

MK is his perfect little cub. He’s the only one who can keep the boy safe.

“Now, cub… let’s talk about your nightmare, hmm?

His friends, face-down in puddles of mud. His family, ripped limb from limb and left to rot. Fertile dirt stained to speckled cinnabar.

“…just saw s-something…”

Messed up is what he wants to say. But the lion responds far better to MK playing along with the ‘helpless child’ act. So he finishes with a delayed “scary” instead, leaving Azure to sympathetically coo and bring the boy into his powerful arms.

MK wants to hate this. So badly, he wishes that the hug was painfully tight, or that Azure’s blue fur was rough to the touch. Any reason to hate it, to hate the comfort and warmth sinking deep into his skin from the cuddle.

But he can’t. There’s not even one thing wrong with it. The lion is well-versed in skinship and closeness, and is especially gentle with those he cherishes.

MK wishes this felt worse. He wants Azure to be awful and monstrous and demonic- it’d be easier to hate him. He wants to hate the Celestial rebel with all the heart he can muster.

But it’s getting harder and harder with each week in captivity. The leonine revolutionary is gentle, is kind, is genuine.

And with nothing he can do to slip free, MK gives himself to tears once more, allowing the throes of agony from his blood-seeped dream to break him down entirely.

After all, he knows that Azure will provide unconditional comfort and protection.

Whether he wants it or not.

[liamket]

Flufftober Day 8- Rainy Day

Collab with @breannasfluff ! go check her part and reblog!

Grabbing Hyrule’s hand, Wild yanks him along as they run through the rain-slicked grass. They share a glance and a grin before jumping into one of the larger puddles together. Water splashes and, joined by the rain, for an instant it’s nothing but warm liquid and the sound of laughter. Then Hyrule slips on the mud under the water and, still holding onto Wild, goes down. The champion is yanked after him, landing fully in the puddle. He yanks himself up and shakes, sending wet hair flying. Then he glances at Hyrule. The traveler took the brunt of the puddle on his face, along with a fair bit of mud. Wild snorts, then breaks into peals of laughter at the sight. “You are so dirty!” “You—” Hyrule doesn’t have a good insult, but his grin is more akin to one of a villain as he scoops a handful of mud. It nails Wild in the middle of his chest. Askance, the champion stares at the mud on his tunic, then back to Hyrule. The traveler freezes, laughter dying as he waits to see if he went too far. Wild throws himself on top of Hyrule and they go down in another splash. Having the upper hand, the champion scoops mud and smears it on Hyrule. “No! No! Not the face!” Wild gets a nice streak across the traveler's brow. Hyrule retaliates with a muddy handprint on his cheek. They roll in the mud, finally landing in the grass, soaking wet and dirty. Time is going to have a fit when he sees them.

Thank you again bre for the collab! had fun with this one <3

[docholligay]

I think so much of so many of these questions are situational and that's why they're fun. I think there's a huge difference between a zombie scenario and a non-zombie "I have to kill you." I even think a mercy killing is yet a third, separate thing.

behind a cut for the usual annoyance

And like, for, "You took a bullet for me" I think this is a situation that is much much more survivable for Roy based simply on the idea that it would ABSOLUTELY be a very very specific choice on Hawkeye's part, and it would VERY much be that she didn't have time to figure how to ALSO get herself out of the way. She made the calculus, and she chose. It is not a wave of passion, it is a decision she made years ago. So the only thing he does if he goes on a tear or tries to off himself, is make something she believed in SO MUCH that she died for it, pointless. Her death will mean NOTHING. And don't get me wrong, I think his problems are rapidly adding up, but i do think he would push himself on based on the fact that he had better be worth dying for. I also think he would have this panicky thought that if he died, who would mourn her? She wasn't Miss Congeniality. It would feel so unfair to have her forgotten, which means he has to drag his ass up out of the fucking bog. He can become fuhrer and hold a fucking parade and firework show she would have hated every year.

Hawkeye, on the other hand, would just torture herself with the idea that she had one fucking job, and how the hell did he see it coming and not HER? How did she screw up THAT BADLY? Also how little did she manage to get him to listen to her even once that he didn't understand his life had value that hers didn't, not in a sad meow meow way, in a very pragmatic way. He is an alchemist, he is socially adept enough to climb the ranks, he is a man. He can do things she can't and that is the hierarchical reality of the situation. She is mostly a very good shot and very well studied in close combat, evasion, risk assessment, etc. She is replaceable by the next very good graduate. (she is not). But once!!! a fucking gain! Roy didn't listen to her and now he's dead. She just takes very dangerous and stupid assignments until it catches up with her. Because she is a very good shot and very well studied. I think there is very little drama and fanfare on her part but I also think she cannot be talked out of this.

Yeah, it's actually well encapsulated in song of my present heart, episode 15: She's not gonna let Scar get close enough to even think about touching Roy, but she IS going to happily dump him in the mud for being arrogant and ridiculous. (I actually, when I saw the English dub, loved that they added her, annoyed, going, "stubborn man" as she sweeps him into a puddle, a thought I think she must have every single day of her life)

She will not let him get actually hurt--that's why the whole Marcoh thing shows us a Hawkeye with a look of fear on her face, it's a situation where Roy could get VERY hurt that is 100% completely out of her control. She can't just throw him to the ground and start shooting. But she will in fact let him get a little bit dunked on, in the vain hope that he'll fucking learn something. She is smart! She is a good at assessing situations, and sometimes the situation is, "Fuck your breakfast"

I dunno man, whatever frame I could possibly put around these two is not clean at all to me. And I love that! Deep loyalty and devotion--and I do think Roy is also very devoted to her, and protects her in his own way. It's not like we see a plethora of women in the service and I can only imagine what that is like for her, but see now, if they fuck with her they get the business end of Roy and they know it---but it's not lovey dovey. There's not a spark of romance there. It's not even really the same as friendship. THey were thrown together, and like the fucking...tin soldier and the ballerina (Roy is the ballerina) they end up melted together.