#why cant someone wrestle me to the floor and make out with me

[cultiest]

Gaby in 8 femmes is a stronger woman than I because if a woman ever looked at me the way Pierette does during Gaby's song I'd fall to my knees right there

[lifewiththelulus]

Mimi was always the first between them to wake up. Not just because she started preparations at the store early but because Hazel, despite being steam, could sleep like a rock. Though getting herself untangled from said stone like grip was a challenge. Wrestling free she took just a moment to gaze mirthfully at her wife cradling a pillow. The early morning haze allowing her to imagine for a moment, something or maybe someone else between them. Remembering with a start the nights full events she hurries quietly to see if Mason had awoken. Stopping in the hallway her gem grew bright at the sight before her. Sunflower was watching over him, as she had always done for Mimi as a child. She was truly a sweet old girl. Mason has seeming gotten quite comfortable through the night,splayed out in a silly way and sand covering the couch and floor. She stifflied a giggle, wishing almost to wake Hazel just to see it.

As much as she wanted to stay in the peace of this moment she knew she needed to call the orphanage now that the lines were back up. They might accept their story but it wasnt exactly legal to pick up a kid off the street the way they did. She heard Hazel stir and enter the room. She could tell Hazel found as much joy in the scene as she had as she barely hid tears. Gesturing to the phone Hazel understood what she needed to do. "Good morning sweet potato, why dont you make our guest some of your turf cakes while I take the phone. "

She didnt need to be in at work till 10 and normally she would revel in the time with Mimi but now her steam was in knots, there was so much to say,so much they didnt know, a million reasons not to do this; but something her father taught her from hearing that story over the years was there could be a million no's but one yes that was more important than any of it, plain and simple love.

When Hazel gets off the phone she enters the kitchen with a dower expression, until she sees Mason fully awake,poorly sneaking sunflower food over the counter with Mimi exaggeratedly pretending not to notice. everyday could be like this she thought,her heart aching with want. She mentally scolded herself again, she knew even if this could happen for them it would take a long time. Shoving everything aside for his sake she finally says "Good morning bud, wipe off that sleep sand we're going for a ride".

the more Mason talks excitedly about places he sees and how theyll go together like its obvious,the more Hazel feels ill. She grips the handle trying to will her precipitation to hold shape as the tears well up behind her goggles. The closer they get to the orphanage, the more anxious he becomes, gazing up at her with worry. She cant bring herself to meet his eyes as it comes into view. "ms. Lumen, why are we here, i thought stuff was ok I thought we were home now". The staff came out relived to see him returned safely. She looks at him with a forced smile "its gonna be ok, just wait for me ok?" They talk for awhile behind closed doors before Hazel is allowed to speak to him again. his body shook as she bent down to his level. "Mason listen to me bud…you are always part of our home no matter what happens,but we cant just take in a kid like this,its..its more complicated than that. Im going to fight for you I promise, but it might take a long time and you wont always see us ok?". He shook and pushed her back."i dont understand" His sand was starting to clump together from tears.

"Mason please understand its not that we dont care about you-"They always say that" he interrupts. "They say they want me, my first mama said a mixed kid was good for videos" he says confused as to what it even meant. "They say they love me until my sand gets too much to handle,you're the same, nobody wants a mixed kid". He was inconsolable, a woman nearby tells hazel that its ok, hes always like this,shes free to leave. He shys away from her touch when she reaches out so she just says " Mason, Im mixed, I understand how hard it is,how elements look at you, how elements dont know how to act around you,i know". He looks up confused "huh, no way youre air!…right?" She laughs slightly "I can pass for it some days, and some days I was trying too, but my mom is fire and my dad is water. They came together even when it was hard because they loved each other, and that made me,steam.And my brother" she added smiling. He looked at her with awe and wary. She continued "We want you in our family Mason;just like my parents fought to have me we will fight for you.I want to hear your stories and maybe, maybe if you're lucky, ill ride in a balloon with you".

He still looks wearing but she coaxes a smile out of him. "Okay but you have to pinky promise or else" he said pouting. "You got it bud" Hazel laughed before growing serious "just wait for us ok, even if it takes a million years you'll come home, I promise"

She can't help but look back as she gets on her bike. Mimi meanwhile has been been texting Flint, both trying to explain the situation and asking if there's any way they can sponsor them

[unohanadaydreams]

This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.

But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3

so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]

Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing  Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

[lillian-nator]

please do more backyard au hcs this sounds lovely

PEOPLE AND AGES - Tommy (5) Kindergarten - Techno (11) 6th grade - wilbur (18) Senior - Tubbo (4) Kindergarten - Schlatt (19) Just Graduated, goes to Community college - SapNap (7) First grade - Punz (13) 7th grade - Dream (12) 8th grade - Gogy (15) Sophomore - Ranboo (6) Kindergarten - Fundy (15) Freshman - Niki (16) junior - Puffy (17) Senior - Purpled (5) Kindergarten - Big Q (14) 8th grade - Karl (13) 7th grade ----------------------- SPECIES AND RELATIONSHIPS (put into friend groups) - Tubbo (Ram, Schlatt's son) - Tommy (Racoon) - Ranboo (enderman, kind of a street kid) - Purpled (Purple Sheep, Dream and Puffy's younger brother) - SapNap (Demon, Bad's son, Punz's baby brother)

- Techno (Piglin) - Dream (Ram, Puffy's younger brother) - Punz (demon) - Gogy  (Mooshroom) - Big Q (Duck) - Karl (Parrot hybrid)

- Wilbur (Blue Jay) - Schlatt (Ram) - Puffy (sheep - Schlatt's cousin) - Niki (fish? mermaid?) - Fundy (Fox) ----------------------- I think that Philza minecraft just slowly keeps finding kids in his backyard, and he slowly grows very attached to all of them Just like every afternoon his backyard is FLOODED with kids And he doesn’t understand why he’s the house everyone goes to, but he’ll feed them He just slowly finds himself being really endeared by each of them ------------------- And before he knows it, Phil’s warning SapNap and Ranboo away from the water, and balancing Purpled and Tommy on his hips And he knows all their allergies And all their favorite foods And he’s keeping track of the high schoolers grades, bringing Dream, punz, and techno to their games  ----------------- CARPOOL SOCCER MOM Mr. Philza Minecraft --------------------- Dream: Basketball Punz: Football Techno: Baseball Puffy: Softball Small children: Baby Soccer -------------------------- - Phil keeps track of all of boys'  games and practices. Because goddamn it, these kids deserve some sort of parental guidance - Dream, purpled, and Puffy don’t have present parents - Puffy had to step up to the plate - Ranboo’s a street kid - No one really knows if he has anyone - Bad just chilling in hell ---------------------------- Schlatt is really working himself thin, but he tries hard, he really does And everyone can see how much he loves Tubbo Sometimes Phil will wake up and see schlatt passed out on their couch. He got off at midnight But as soon as he gets home from work, Tubbo is immediately in his Dad’s arms Schlatt animatedly talking to the boy But you can just see how much love he has for his boy He’s just a bit too young to bare the burden alone ------------------------------ And the thing is, is that all of these kids are so like, independent Like Phil just needs to feed them And tend to the youngest ones every so often ------------------------------- I think it’s like musical chairs To see who’s sleeping at Phil’s house in the morning Like - who’s on the couch? An air mattress? Guest bed? Sharing a room with one of his kids? All of the small children like to pile around SapNap, who is also a small child, cause he’s warm Punz also always has children flocking him ------------------------------- Punz is also that teen who throws the kids in the pool he cant go into the water himself, prefering to lay on the grass and in the sun, but he does love just chucking kids in ------------------------------- Phil drives a beat up mini van. It’s baby blue It's always filled to the brim with passengers very dirty many crumbs has balls just thrown in it all the time Footballs, basketballs, baseballs, soccer balls it fucking smells, we all know it does Phil owns like 4 of those kid car seats despite only having one kid in that age group ---------------------------- Also if you couldn't tell Niki basically lives in the pool she's a fish hybrid so its a salt water pool instead of chlorine because its better for Niki --------------------------- Tommy, Tubbo, purpled, Ranboo, and SapNap play baby soccer its the best part of this au It’s so adorable, and Tommy picks at flowers the entire time Sometimes. Ranboo will come and entertain him for a little. Try and get him back in the game. He gives up when Tommy sits down tho Ranboo will more often then not join Tommy cause mmmm grass Tubbo is insanely competitive as a little kid we been knew though When he gets older Tommy gets really into it But as a baby He just chases bugs Plus he’s a raccoon hybrid, so shiny ------------------------ HE HOARDS SHIT UNDER HIS BED IS A MESS he as in fucking baby racoon Tommy whats the word for baby racoon small baby kit Phil 1000% calls him kit BABY RAMS ARE CALLED BUCKS FUCKING EVERYONE CALLS TUBBO "BUCK" THATS SO CUTE IM LOSING MY SHIT Things go lost? Go check tommys room Bermuda Triangle of a bedroom Very much like - Phil has to have a talk with him about it And he’s like “ I know you feel like you have to take them Kit, but they’re not yours” “If you want it, just ask me and I’m

sure we can figure something out.” Tommy also loses interest as soon as he gains it tho Tommy chitters at them They nod liek they understand and go “Uh huh, sounds mighty interesting Kit,” And then they pick him and let him climb around them -------------------------------- So much rough housing like SO much they're hybrids man Tommy also teethes ok. Chews on shit when his canines grow in so does Techno, and SapNap, and Punz (Punz and Techno's canines already grew in though, but they still chew on shit) The rams Rub their heads against stuff Head Itchy ------------------------------- A lot of Phil’s days off are just spent by the babies, just who are growing in hybrid traits He scratches Tubbo, sapnaps, and Puroled heads They’re all growing in horns Gives Tommy things to chew on Purpled. Never gets full horns. They are always little stubs just barely sticking out of his hair. His ears looks more human than ram too. Just for some reason never really grew into his hybrid traits And purple eyes He gets so upset about it too, when Tubbos horns outgrow his, because he’s older He’s a bit different. But it’s like being brunette in a family of blondes. It’s not unheard of He just is tearing up and Phil is just like “oh Bud, come ‘ere” They're like 8 And Tommy just gives Purpled the biggest hug, because Tommy is a sweetheart as a kid ------------------- I think that even the older kids wrestle Like obviously Dream, Techno and the rest of the middle school gang do Because they’re so fucking competitive Dream is so quick to just. Grab someone and wrestle them to the floor No warning But like, you’ll catch Wilbur and Schlatt jumping at each other Or Wilbur throwing Fundy over his shoulder Or anyone just man handling gogy ------------------- Phil gets to a point where he calls them all his kids And asks where they are when they aren’t At his house ------------------------ Puffy bringing them (Dream and Purpled) over after school. They go outside and play. Puffy sighs and collapses at the dining table. Phil silently hands her a coffee. “I’ll keep em busy” he says “you get some homework done” She looks up, and puts her head in her hand, “Dream has basketball practice in an hour” Phil just pats  her on the back. “I got it.” ----------------- Also let’s talk about how much food Phil needs to buy Like even if it’s just lunch That’s like 15 growing boys He can afford it, He just has to watch out for allergies He buys so many fucking snacks man Whole damn store He goes through like crates of those little chip variety packs Tubbo only likes the crunchy Cheetos Tommy likes barbecue Niki likes salt and vinegar Punz likes Doritos He knows which ones they all like I’m just imagining Phil calling out for the kids And they’re like lining out of the kitchen Oldest to youngest so that Phil can help the little ones They can eat anywhere in the yard, but Ohil has the little ones eat at the picnic table They’re all dripping wet from coming out of the pool, and he needs to make sure they eat their fruit and popsicles, they have tons of popsicles. ------------------ Phil totally takes Dad tax Like a chip from every plate And a tatertot from each breakfast very dad of him to do ------------------- Not not Phil kissing each of their foreheads goodbye And “drive safe” And “have a good day" ------------------ He’ll still pick up Texhno And Dream and Punz, right by the armpits And tucks them into bed ----------------- Tommy when he gets wet He loves swimming but the poor baby: his fur It’s hard to get him in the water but once he’s in it’s hard to get him out Because he feels all heavy and sticky afterwards ------------------ Adventures in the woods TOMMY IN HID NATURAL HABITAT Small boy makes hidey hole You may be asking Does. Does Tommy crunch on the leaves He does Like on ever y single one Carefully -------------------- All of the little kids And even technos group Just bonk heads Because of the goats They all just do it Sometimes softly Sometimes roughly Techno always does it roughly tho Rough houser Dream doesn’t mind Makes it feel like he has a

herd Feeds a primal instinct for ram playmates Feeds a primal instinct for ram playmates - Small boy And puffy has outgrown it But a young piglin brute? Perfect playmate. ------------------------- AND THATS THE AU YOU'RE WELCOME

[gh0styyt0astyy]

hm.. now i'm thinkin, right.. with your other two fics of deimos being an absolute little shit, what if either hank, sanford, or both got back at him for it... sanford getting involved would be a pretty big betrayal after helping him out with hank... (ps despite the fact that i did make it before i saw it i'm 99% sure i posted my drawing of dei and san ganging up on hank a couple hours after you posted the fic of them and i'm now unofficially half jokingly declaring it as fanart of that fic because good scenario PFDNKNDGKDJSF)

✨ [Karma’s a bitch] ✨

( HEY I HOPE U DONT MIND I MATCHED THIS UP W/ ANOTHER REQUEST THEY JUST WORKED TOO PERFECTLY TOGETHER )

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — In which Deimos comes to understand the meaning of “your actions have consequences.” (Lee!Deimos and Ler!Sanford + Ler! Hank)

guess the dude cant take what he dishes out…

key:

deimos

hank

sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; also hank accidentally gets kicked in the face; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts:] no. 8 + 10 / hank and sanford get their revenge

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

—————————

If there was one thing that Deimos was good at; it was being an absolute little shit. (Minus his hacking, fighting and semi decent medical skills.) A cocky little shit who was way too good at all of this.

“All of this” being; tasering Hank in the ribs, suddenly grabbing Sanford’s sides and running away, sometimes getting both Hank and Sanford in one good day.

Hank was done with Deimos’ shit, and Sanford just wanted revenge. So that’s what would happen. Sanford was gonna get his revenge, and he knew Hank would want in on that too. (I mean, c’mon. Hank is ALL ABOUT revenge.)

“Hank,” Sanford walked up to the man, poking him in the back. Hank’s shoulders jumped as he turned around quickly, shoulders falling back down but remaining tense. “I want your help.”

Hank stood there quietly, staring at Sanford. It was always so hard to understand what Hank was thinking behind those goggles.

“What is it.” Hank said, tilting his head slightly; Sanford grinned widely before he looked around the place. He grabbed Hank’s wrist (electing to ignore the jolt in Hank’s body) and dragged him to a different room.

“I want revenge.”

Hank perked up.

“I wanna get back at Deimos. You in?”

Hank thought, silently staring at Sanford. (At least, Sanford would assume he was being stared at.) “…So…?”

“What’s your plan?”

Sanford pumped his fist in the air as he leaned up towards Hank.

“Deimos!” Sanford called from another room, causing the other to lift his head from the little tablet he held. “Yeah?” Deimos called back. “C’mere for a sec, will you?” Deimos furrowed his brow. “Uh, sure.” He set down the tablet and headed off towards Sanford’s voice.

“San?” Deimos called out, entering the room he had heard Sanford in. “Over here, Dei.”

It was their storage room. Where the three would usually drop their weapons and stuff for the day before they conked out. “Hey San. What’s up?” Sanford motioned Deimos over. “Come here, I need you to look at something.” Deimos walked over, crouching down next to Sanford. “I thought I saw something glowing in there.” Sanford said, pointing into the closet. Deimos raised an eyebrow before peeking in. Something glowing? “What color?”

“Not sure. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Hm.” Deimos hummed. And then he saw it— a dull red glow that shone in Deimos’ face. “What the hell?” The glow got brighter and brighter before—

“AGK! SHIT!”

Hank leapt out of the dark closet and tackled Deimos to the ground, wrestling with him for a moment before Hank overpowered him and kept him to the floor. “GOOD GOD! Holy shit, Hank! What the hell!?” Deimos struggled under Hank’s hold.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.” Was all that Hank said, looking up at Sanford. “Excuse me?” Deimos said, a small tone of offense in his voice as Sanford walked up to stand beside the two. He crouched down with a small smirk on his face, Deimos looked between Hank and Sanford. “What are you two planning?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Deimos. You ever heard the saying, what was it… “Karma’s a bitch?” Hank asked.

“…Yeesss…?” Deimos answered, suspicion rising.

“How about the saying “your actions have consequences.”

“Yes Hank, I’ve heard these sayings before. Why are you—“

Suddenly it hit Deimos, the way Sanford sat at his head and took his wrists from Hank’s hands. The way Hank kept him on the floor. “Oh. Oh shit.” Deimos muttered.

“Yeaah. I’m sure you see where this is going.” Sanford said, holding both of Deimos’ wrists with one hand.

Deimos, honestly, was extremely nervous. But he huffed, refusing to show through his facade.

“I wonder how long you can go without laughing.” Hank mused, tilting his head again (in a way that looks threatening, but no harm was showing.)

“I can last longer than you did, Wimbleton.” Deimos said with a huff, flinching inwards on himself at a sudden jab at the spot where his shoulder met with his ribs. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s ticklish.” Sanford shot at him, tightening on Deimos wrists as he tugged. “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“First of all, I am not ticklish. Second of all, you guys are just wasting your time.” Deimos said, brows furrowing. Hank just stared before looking at Sanford. (In all honesty, Hank had no clue what to do. He’d just follow Sanford’s lead.)

“You aren’t, huh?” Sanford said, poking at Deimos again. Sanford didn’t miss the way Deimos flinched inwards again and (seemingly) bit the inside of his cheek. “Nope. Unlike you two.” Deimos grinned. “Alright then, you cocky bastard.” Hank butted in, latching onto Deimos’ legs. “You obviously wouldn’t mind us doing this, then. Would you?”

Deimos blinked, before seemingly understanding the situation he was in. “Look okay— usually I’d let you two have at it but I- um— okay okAY LISTEN-“ Deimos’ voice raised an octave, nerves jumping in his throat.

This was gonna suck.

“…would an apology make you let me go?” Deimos tried, watching as Sanford and Hank passed each other glances. “No.” Hank said, Sanford just grinned.

“Okay, I’m done waiting. Hank? Y’ready?” Deimos sucked in a breath, nervously. Hank was the master of making people antsy with how long he took to answer. The goggled man nodded.

Deimos tried to prepare himself, but he let out an awkward squawk as Sanford tased and circled on Deimos’ ribs. “AHAHGK—!” He yelped, clamping his mouth shut. Hank kneaded and clawed Deimos’ hips and lower sides. Deimos looked determined to keep any laughter inside. He shook his head. “Noh- nope— I’m naha— I’m not ticklish!” “Bullshit!” Sanford said, tickling the other side of Deimos’ ribs; it earned him a small snort.

Hank didn’t relent from his spots, either. He kept one hand on Deimos’ hips and the other started tweaking the skin of his legs.

“bweAHA- SHIHIT!” Deimos yelped again, trying to move away from Hank’s hand. “Oh? What was thaaaaat, Dei-Dei?” Sanford drew out, earning a frustrated and embarrassed whine from Deimos. “Huh… that’s funny,” Hank said, looking at Sanford, then Deimos. “I thought you said you could last longer than me? You didn’t… lie, did you?”

“I think he lied about a lot of things.”

“I dihihihid nohohaHAHT!” Deimos suddenly squeaked, arching his back before flopping back down. Sanford was vibrating his fingers into his stomach. “waHAHAIT WAHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIT!” Deimos tugged his arms again, trying to release himself from Sanford’s grip. “Lehehet gohoho!” Deimos whined.

“That’s funny, I thought I had said the same thing!” Sanford hummed in thought. “But alas, you didn’t listen…”

“I—Ihihihi’m sahahohorry!” “Hm.” Hank hummed. “You know, laughter in an apology doesn’t make it sincere. I don’t think you are.”

“Cohohohome ohohohon! I dihihihdn’t meEAHAHN IHIHIT—!” Deimos kicked his legs, trying to get Hank’s hands off as he tried to move away from Sanford’s. “Remember when you did this to me?” Hank asked, clawing at Deimos’ hips and sometimes shooting up to his ribs.

Deimos pulled his elbows to his face as best he could, hiding the creeping blush. He squealed when Sanford pinched his stomach. “SAHAHAHANFOHOHORD YOU TRAHAHAHAHITOR!” Deimos belted out loud laughter as Sanford only grinned.

Slowly, the tickling sensations stopped on Deimos’ body, the man in question letting out shaky laughs and breathing. Deimos sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his shirt ride up. “Wait wahAHAHIT WAHAHAIT! Lehehet’s tahahalk about thihihihis!”

Sanford thought, and so did Hank. The two looked at each other before shaking their heads. “Nah.” Was all Sanford said before blowing a raspberry on Deimos’ stomach.

“OHOHOHOHOH SHIHIHIT- OH MY GOHOHOHOD!” Deimos let out, his body going limp while his legs frantically kicked.

It was all fun and games until—

*CRRRRK!*

Sanford and Deimos stopped immediately, after realizing that Hank had accidentally been booted in the face. His goggles having broken and fallen off. If Hank was in pain he sure didn’t show it.

“OHOHO SHIT! Hahahnk! Hahank I’m sorry!” Deimos gasped, sitting up after Sanford had let him go.

Hank laid there on his back for a minute before sitting up and touching his face, already warm with a bruise forming.

“Well. Shit.” Was all Hank said.

“Are you okay?” Deimos asked, Sanford sitting in between them. Hank nodded. It wasn’t the worst he had been through before.

“…Okay, well- I think we all got our revenge?” Sanford said.

With Hank’s new lack of goggles, it was a little easier to see he was, indeed, looking at the other two and thinking. He looked at Sanford with dull eyes and looked like he wanted to say something before standing up. “Sure.” He said, offering a hand to the other two men.

They both stood up, Deimos still giggling slightly. Sanford hit his shoulder lightly. “You liar…” He grinned as Hank picked up his goggles in the background.

[sexy-bee-juice]

“I love[d] you”

Pairing: Tsukishima x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, light mentions of smut??(i am so sorry if its bad but i’ve never written it so-), fighting [karasuno throwin hands-]

Summary: Tsukki cheats on reader, and the team finds out after you break down.

https://youtu.be/50VNCymT-Cs

heres a song to make it worse. Im sorry.

*

“Kei?”

“Hmm?” He said, looking up from his book.

You were both in bed, cuddling, you looking through your phone, with your boyfriend of only one year beside you. Sure, it’s only been a year, but you’ve been crushing on him since middle school. Feelings ran deep.

You smiled at him.

“I love you.” He stared at you for only a moment, then looked away blushing.

“I love you too.” Then he reached over and kissed you lightly on the forehead. “To the moon and back.”

*

It had been nearly four months since you had first said those words to Kei, and you were still head over heels for him.

You were the manager for the Karasuno Volleyball Club, and a third year. You were only making your way to the gym where they were practicing, skipping along, happy because the older third years were coming back to see the team.

Kageyama and Hinata were going to be ecstatic, especially Hinata. Suga, Azumane, and Sawamura were already on their way. Then your phone beeped with a message from Kei.

*

can’t make it to practice today, head hurts tell evryone else

*

You frowned. When you had left his house earlier he seemed fine... Oh well. Later you just needed to make him some of that tea you had at your house that your mother always made for you when you had a headache.

*

alrightyyyyy. see you after practice. i’ll tell the alums u cant make it bby! hope you feel better soon! :)

*

No reply. You brushed it off, as he usually did this to you. Plus his head hurt as well.

You checked the time, and jumped as you saw you were still ten minutes away from the gym, and you were supposed to be there fifteen minutes before everyone else. AHHHHHHH. Gotta rush, gotta rush, gotta rushhhhh. You thought as you ran as fast as you could to where practice was gonna be.

When you finally reached the school, you saw that Shoyo and Tobio were already there, with Shoyo bouncing around, singing whatever song he came up with, probably mere minutes before, and Tobio aggressively yelling at him, trying to pull him down.

“Hey guys! Stop that sorry Im late lets get inside and you two can start warming up before everyone else gets here oh my god I need water-” You said, out of breath and gasping, dripping in sweat.

Shoyo smiled and offered you his hand to the place where you had fallen on the ground.

“Hey! No worries y/n-Chan! I have some water for you here! Well, it was supposed to be for me, but you can have cuz I don't need it and I’m sure I can get someone else to share with me!” You smiled up gratefully at Shoyo, and took his extended hand, pulling yourself up.

An instant sense of cool relief flowed over you as you swallowed down the chilling water. God, you couldn’t have asked to be the manager for a better team.

Soon, the rest of the team began to minnow in, laughing and talking, carefree as usual, until (as expected) Shoyo nearly jumped on Tobio after giving the loudest screech ever.

“Jeez, what happened? GET OFF ME YOU RUNT! SCRUB! IDIOT! I SWEAR I’LL-” The words died in his throat as he saw who has just entered the gym.

“AH! SUGA-SAN! AZUMANE-SENPAI! CAPTAIN! NOYA-SANNNNNN! TANAKA-SENPAI!!!!” You smiled, looking back to the alums of Karasuno.

“AHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHOYOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bellowed Noya as he jumped over to Shoyo, Tanaka at his heels.

“BROOOOOOOO WE MISSED YOU!” said Tanaka, tackling both Tobio and Shoyo in a hug, lifting them both off the floor.

“HEY GERROF!” said Tobio, muffled by his jacket.

You walked up to the older alums, smiling greetings and welcomes.

“So? How’s things with you all?” You asked.

“Ehhh, same old, same old. How you managing...as...manager-? I- wait-” stutters Azumane.

“No, no, its fine. These two still fight and bicker but they’re easy to manage nowadays.”

“oh? Jeez, y/n-Chan, you have it easy.” Said Suga. “When I was still here as a third-year, it was definitely harder to manage them, and the rest of the team...”

You smiled, happy to see them, and continued watching the four freaks reunite.

“I miss my children...” You heard Suga murmur, barely discernable from the now probably-not-human-noises the four were making. Daichi and Azumane were trying their best not to burst out laughing behind Suga, who was wistfully staring at his “children”.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daichi-san asked you the one thing you forgot to tell them.

“So...where’s Tsukishima?” He asked, looking around as if your boyfriend were hiding. As if he would do something so childish.

“oh! Yeah, I forgot to tell you all. He said to tell you all. He said he had to skip today because his head was hurting.”

“Ah, yes. The head pain. An unfortunate enemy.” said Tanaka-san, looking up from the place he was wrestling with the team. You giggled.

“Well, when Kiyoko-senpai arrives i think i might leave for a bit to take care of Kei, then i’ll come back, just letting you guys know, so don’t-”

“SHIMIZU-SENPAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” You heard Noya and Tanaka yell simultaneously.

“And that’s my cue-” You said swiveling to the door, and sprinting back to the Tsukishima residence.

As the door was always open for you, you didn’t even bother knocking, but entered right away. Nobody seemed to be home either.

As you silently made your way to your boyfriends room, you saw that you were pretty much already a significant part of their lives. They had pictures of you with them all, framed. Sticky notes with reminders for you on the fridge. You even had a spot at the table with them, for the nights you stayed for dinner.

Truly, this was your home.

https://youtu.be/Mhj15W23IjA        [more pain, you masochist’s]

You smiled softly as you made your way to his bedroom, humming along the way, so any other sound went unnoticed by you.

As you reached his door, you smiled at the little dino sticker he had stuck there at the beginning of your relationship. It was worn, but it still stuck there, serving as a reminder.

“It’s so you don’t get lost when you need to find me in the house. It shouldn’t be hard, but knowing you, you can go out for milk then buy a swimming pool.” You smiled as he smacked it on, and he turned the knob to his door, permitting you to enter.

You turned the knob.

“Tsukki? I know I should have come earlier or something but could you help me with-”

“Idiot. Just get in here. I couldn’t care less anyways, what? Can’t solve a simple question?”

“Tsukiiiiiiii, stop being so meaaaannnn.” he smirked at you.

“Don’t call me that.” you blinked up at him.

“uhhhh...call you what?”

“Tsukki. Don’t call me that.”

“oh. um. ok then.”

“call me Kei.”

you smiled up at him, tears swimming in your eyes.

You cracked open the door.

“Y/n?” He opened the door to his room, the dinosaur sticker still on it, only a couple months old.

“Yuppers.” he tilted your face up to him with his thumb and forefinger. “I-oh.”

Then he leaned down and kissed you ever so softly on your lips, eyes fluttering shut.

“I want you to stay with me forever...” He whispered.

“I will.” He smiled.

“Then I will too”

And you opened the door, smiling to yourself due to all the memories you made in this very spot.

Then your eyes widened.

no.

no.

NO.

NO...

It can’t be real...

Kei would never.

but he.... he did.

And he didn’t even notice you open the door, he didn’t even see you or hear the gasp you let out as you took in what you saw. He only looked up from the girl he was fucking in front of him, sweaty and panting, bites and scratches over his back and on his neck, when you slammed the door.

No tears ran down your face, like most people. You just ran back to the gym, not even really getting tired just...numb.

he promised. He promised to be yours forever.

but he must have crossed his fingers. done something stupid. because he lied. he wasn’t ever soley yours. he wasn’t, he couldn’t be.

But still. You couldn’t cry.

1) You don’t cry. You never cried.

2)You couldn’t let anyone see you weren’t ok.

Fake it ‘till you make it.

“WAIT. Y/N! WAIT, WAIT WAIT, DON’T GO!” But why would you listen?

Everything went by in a blur. you were minutes away from the gym.

Minutes away from safety.

Then you could hide behind a mask and never let anyone see.

“Oh, hey y/n-Chan! That was kinda quick.” Said Daichi. You inhaled, pushing everything away.

You giggled.

“Uh, yeah. Kei had his mom there so I left it up to her, plus he told me to get back to practice.” He smiled.

“Glad to hear he’s doing alright.” You smiled back.

“Yeah. Anyways. Anything happen while I was gone?” He shook his hed.

“Just the usual. Noya and Tanaka with the freak twins are in a two-on-two, trying to kill each other, and Suga and Asahi are kinda trying to stop the death part.”

“Ah. I see. The norm then.”

“Y/n!” You froze.

NO. nononono not now.

Why would he do this if he never really cared?

“Oh, hey look! Its Tsukishima!” Said Daichi, a smile still on his face.

But rather than running towards him, like you usually would, you ran away. Right into the gym, and...

Right into Suga’s arms.

“Hey, slow down a bit or you might be worse than Noya and knock me over!” He smiled at you. But he was just too intuitive for his own good, damn it, and his smile fell immediately.

“Is something the matter?” You composed your expression, smacking a smile back onto your face, and as you opened your mouth to say all was fine, you were cut off.

“Y/n! no no no I can explain!” You looked at Suga. Fear in your eyes. Did he figure it out? But you didn’t want to look at Kei right now. You couldn’t.

“y/n? What happened?” You looked back up at him.

“...Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No! Y/n! You don’t understand! I love you! And only you!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

Because that’s what broke you.

And soon you had squirmed out from Suga’s grasp and fallen onto the floor, sobbing. You never cried. But if you didn’t just this once, you might have exploded.

“Y/n?! What-?”

Then suddenly the whole team was surrounding. You, some of them kneeeling down to your height.

“...y/n? W-what happened?” Asked Yamaguchi. You looked up at him, tears still streaking down your face.

“I-It was...I don’t-”

“Y/n! Y/n, please listen! Please, please, please I’m begging you!” Called Kei as he finally reached the doors to the gym, panting and gasping.

“Why would I listen to you? H-How am I supposed to believe anything you say anymore?”

At this, he reeled back, your words finally hitting him.

But before anyone moved, Daichi looked between both of you, and crouched down beside you. And so softly, he whispered:

“Did he...Please don’t tell me he did...? He cheated...?” You nodded and started to sob harder, and soon you were wrapped up in his embrace, while he petted the back of your head, whispering consoltations into your ear.

Unfortunately for Kei, the whole team heard.

“He did what to you?” Asked Noya, staring right at you, a stone cold expression on his face.

“He cheated on her.” Said Daichi, looking between you and Tsukki. “Tsukishima cheated on y/n.”

“And in the next moment, before anyone could react, Suga was standing right in front of Tsukki, glaring at him with the most terrifying expression on his face anyone has ever seen.

“You did what?”

“I- I c-cheat-” But before Tsukki could finish sentence, Suga had punched him right in the face.

“HOW COULD YOU?!?! WHY WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT TO ANYONE?!?” He screamed, tears now streaming down his face. “SHE LOVED YOU WITH ALL HER HEART AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER!” He pointed to you and Daichi.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to-” Stuttered Tsukki, eyes blown wide in fear, tears prickling in the corner, so close to spilling over.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!” It looked like he was ready to land another punch across his face before Noya and Tanaka were there holding him back, and began to bring him back to where you were, still screaming at Tsukishima, tears likewise streaming down his face.

“Hold her.” Ordered Daichi, looking at Suga, who nodded and cradled you, still shaking.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I’m here, i’m here...”

This time Noya and Hinata were standing right in front of the boy who so towered over them.

“I don’t want you to come near her for a while. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Said Noya, serious as ever. Tsukishima nodded.

As he looked to Hinata, he realized that tears were pricking the corners of his eyes, and he looked mad. Really mad. Then suddenly, he was on the ground, a sharp pain in his back.

Hinata had pushed him. He looked down at him, and shook his head, as if saying no.

But he didn’t say anything, and just walked away.

But, why? Why didn’t he yell? Why didn’t he scream? Why was he so... SO DAMN QUIET?!

Before Noya could do anything, as he was expected to do, Tanaka was there, herding them both away, and completely ignoring Tsukishima. Whatever they were doing, it made it worse.

Azumane couldn’t even go near Tsukishima.

Not only because he didn’t want to be near him, but because he was afraid. Not afraid of Tsukishima, no.

He was afraid because he might lose control. He might hurt him.

Then Daichi was there.

“I don’t want you to even come near her until she’s ready to talk to you. Do you understand me?” He nodded. Daichi glared at him for a minute that could have been an hour, a moment completely suspended in time.

“Then get out of here.” And Tsukishima scrabbled to his feet, not once looking away from Daichi until he was completely up on his feet. Only then did he let the tears fall.

You were gone now. And look what he did.

As he ran away from the Gym, you thought it was laughter you heard coming from Tsukishima, when really, he was sobbing.

You kept listening even as his cries echoed through the clearing, and even when they were gone.

“I loved you, Tsukishima.” You whispered.

a/n: Makin myself cry here

[factual-fantasy]

Got 20 more asks, with some art this time! :}

Thank you! I’m very glad you like the way I draw them!

As to how I draw their glasses or any tips I have.. I just draw them exactly the way the show draws them, except they’re more square than rectangle.

Some tips?

Eyebrows go over the glasses, always. The little line coming down in the center of the glasses touches where the eyes connect. The bottom of the lenses go right about to the middle of the nose. Don’t make them too big, leave room for the eyebrows and the forehead. Make sure the glasses peek over the edge of the face, but don’t make them too wide, leave room for the sideburns and skin by the glasses arms. The glasses arms go right above where the ear connects to the head.

I would suggest looking up some references, from both the show and from other artists. My way of drawing glasses aren't perfect, but clearly they’re decent because you wanted to know how I draw them XD

Just do some research, look up some screen shots and try to redraw them. Heck, even trace them. Eventually you’ll find a way of drawing them that you like, like I did. :}

Oh! Thank you!.. But uh.. polite pass. I don’t drink coffee.. ●﹏●;

Thank you, for everything you’ve said.

I don’t think I’m okay anymore. I’ve been trying so hard to get my old self back, but its just not working. My energy, my motivation, my smile, everything, its just all gone. I’m so overwhelmed with all this doubt and uncertainty that I just don’t now how to function anymore.

Drawing is the only thing in my life I work towards and care about, and I am not exaggerating. But I’m loosing it. I don’t know how to do it anymore. I feel like pieces of my brain are slowly rotting away or something. I just fell awful and escaping to my little imaginary world isn’t working anymore.

Its like all the life is just getting sucked out of me. Although my new job is helping, I don't know if that’s going to be the cure. Peoples opinion of me weighs down so heavily on my shoulders that I hide my true self away in shame. I’m so afraid of being hated or upsetting anyone that you don't even know my real name.

I don't know what to do anymore. My memory is certainly getting worse and I have absolutely no drive to do anything other than drawing what so ever, and even THAT is starting to fail. I must be broken, like a shattered mirror, but I’m missing some pieces and don't even have a way to glue them back together if I somehow find them again anyway, so why even bother looking for them?

I just don’t know what to do anymore. Getting this job better fix it.

Of course! ♡ඩᴗඩ♡

Except for Big Blue. He’s “that guy is huge and can literally kick me to the moon” sized.

My Decepticons? In my brain soup currently. I haven’t found the energy or the motivation to draw them yet. 

In the story? They’re all aboard the nemesis as far as I have decided.

I actually don’t drink any hot beverages.. I don’t drink coffee, I’ve never had tea and hot chocolate makes my stomach queasy. I don’t even really drink milk. or sodas or anything else. I just drink water, only water. That’s enough for me.

As for the characters though? Well let me think... let me split it onto categories.

Tea drinkers:

Brown Suburban

Ranger 

Coffee drinkers:

Honda

A.T.Dragster

Hot chocolate drinkers:

Jeepy

White Truck

Miata

Beluga

U.M.Dragster

Both tea and coffee drinkers:

Escort

Suburban

Vega

Volvo

Green Truck

All of the above:

Beluga

None of the above:

Red Van

Hot Apple cider vinegar:

Bash Buggy

The primary reason why Bash Buggy was freaking out is because he was just scooped up off the ground out of no where.

He’s basically legally blind, so he didn’t instantly go, “Oh this is fine its just Brown Suburban.” He just went

Not that I can remember.. But I have made some AUs and I made a little brown puppy a part of one of them, does that count?

I have never played any of them myself.. but I have watched others play them and I have always liked watching them freak out over FNAF 2.

I also like FNAF 2 because it has almost all of my favorite characters in it. :} 

I believe Ratchet would’ve had to inject the Synthetic Energon into himself when Volvo wasn’t around, because Volvo certainly would’ve stopped him if he was there. Even if it meant wrestling Ratchet to the ground to get that stuff out of his hand.

But sadly, Ratchet would have been completely infected by the time Volvo would have been around. He would’ve probably found Ratchet on the floor when Raf was trying to wake him up.

At first he’d think that he was hurt, or had that same “heart attack” thing like Escort did. He would panic and try to wake him. Ratchet would stir and groan about them being so noisy or something. When Ratchet sits up and looks Volvo in the eyes is when he’d see it.

Volvo’s entire demeanor would change, and he’d just look devastated.

“Ratchet... y.. you didn’t...“ Raf would look up and ask, “Didn’t.. what?”

Volvo would be so overwhelmed with the realization of what Ratchet had done, that he couldn’t even really respond to Raf.

I cant remember the episode very well.. but I believe as the episode progressed, Volvo would be constantly following Ratchet around. He knows that this stuff very dangerous because its incomplete, but he doesn’t know what its going to do to Ratchet.

He would try to get Ratchet to chill out when ever he’s about to do something stupid, and would’ve been there to try and reason with him when he wanted to fight Bulkhead.

He would’ve been there when Optimus and the gang confronted them. Ratchet might’ve shot some nasty comment Volvo’s way and Volvo would’ve been hurt, but he also would’ve gotten a lot more worried about Ratchet too. Getting that nasty comment really just confirmed to Volvo that Ratchet’s lost it. The Synthetic Energon has taken over and he worries about what might happen next.

When he heard about Ratchet getting hurt and bleeding out, he freaked out of course. Him and the other medics would’ve patched him up and Volvo would watch over him. He’d hover around nearby and check his vitals more often than is necessary.

After Ratchet woke up and had that chat with Optimus that I think I remember him having.. I feel like he would make a point to find Volvo and talk to him about it.

Volvo may be a younger medic, but he’s still tough. Thing’s don’t get to him as easily.. well, not normally.

But when Ratchet first woke up? The look on Volvo’s face spoke volumes. The way Volvo acted out of character and practically became glued to Ratchet was concerning. He wasn't reacting to the situation in the way Ratchet believed he would.

When he asked, Volvo would respond with something along the lines of,

“When I saw the color of your optics, I knew exactly what you had done. And it.. it frightened me.“ Volvo would begin to look saddened.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen and I.. I just.. I didn’t know how to help you..“ Volvo would look hurt, and like a child honestly. This tough little medic was genuinely struggling to cope with the situation. 

“I now realize that.. I didn’t truly understand just how dire our situation is.. “

Volvo would fiddle with his hands nervously for a second. 

“I understand why you took that risk, but still it hurts to know that you felt the need to walk into something that dangerous for the slight chance it might make things a little better..“

Essentially, Volvo didn't really fully know just how bad their situation is. And seeing his friend risk his life like that really got the point across like a kick to the gut.

They’d talk it over and get through it at the end of the day, but now Volvo has a new perspective of this situation, and of Ratchet.

Glad to hear I’m not alone in this! :}

Despite its controversy and my personal saltiness towards certain aspects of this series, I overall genuinely really did enjoy watching the Bayverse movies. All of them.

The Bumblebee movie was fantastic, and I like Transformers: Prime. But that’s it, just those three. :/

Thank you for all the compliments!! :> I will do my best to keep these things up!.. Even though its becoming rather difficult..

Thank you! I worked very hard on it! ♡(இ﹏இ`｡)♡.

SPEAKING OF VEGAS DESIGN!!--

As I am writing this, all 16 transformer ocs are getting a make over. (mostly Jeepy) So keep and eye on this post! Because if someone wants to use them for references, the post could suddenly change and the old designs will be outdated! 

Don’t be so shy! XD These asks are fun! :}

Now Bash Buggy.. he wouldn’t actually register what you just did if you kissed him on the cheek.

The protective plating on his face has been peeled back so if you kissed him on the cheek, you would sting him a little and you would get a little bit of Energon on your lips.

He’d wince and look at you like?? What was that?? He cant see the Energon on your lips so he wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together.

But if you told him that you just kissed him on the cheek, he’d then get so confused and flustered. Like, “I?? Wh-.. but-.. thanks?? Uh??”

[asmo-ds]

Opposite Day (Part 1)

||An “Obey Me! Shall We Date?” fanfic||

Authors note: I haven’t written fan fiction since the sixth grade so this may be a bit rusty. The last fanfic I wrote was an “adopted by larry stylinson” fanfic and it was god awful. Anyway enjoy this and lmk if y’all want more!

TW: lots of fighting and breaking things, MC runs away, swearing

(MC POV)

My eyes shoot open at the crack of dawn, just before the chaos of the house of lamentation is bound to take place. This is the only time of the day where I don’t have 7 demon brothers clinging to my sides and dragging me into their personal affairs.

For the most part I don’t mind their little escapades, but when they barging into my room the second I open my eyes, I can become quite irritated. Luckily (after days of watching everyone else’s sleep cycles) I have found an hour where nobody in this damn house is awake. 4am. Levi falls asleep around now and Lucifer wakes up in about an hour. 4 am is not the typical waking time for young human girl, but if it means I can get a moment to myself, I will gladly do it.

I quickly slip on some socks (because sleeping in socks is weird and if you do then I don’t trust you) and tip-toe through the silent halls.

When I arrive at the kitchen I let out a small sigh of relief. I continue to tip-toe through the kitchen and to a cabinet. I grab a few granola bars before quickly heading back to my room. I do this every morning so that even if a certain someone feels they need to eat my serving of breakfast before I get down there, I won’t pass out from malnutrition in the middle of classes.

I sit on my bed with my legs crossed. I feel at peace and close my eyes, relishing in the quiet morni-

CRASH

“MAMMON WHAT THE FUCK?!” I hear asmo’s voice screech. I feel disappointment as I realize today I won’t get my hour of quiet time. I quickly shove my granola bar in my mouth as I hear two pairs of feet racing down the hallway towards my room.

Before I have time to even stand up, Mammon throws my door open and slams it just as quickly.

“MC! Hide me please Asmo is gonna kill m-“ he pleads before the door is broken off it’s hinges by a certain lustful demon.

Before I have time to think say something are both wrestling on my floor in full demon form.

“Mammon that watch went perfectly with almost all my outfits why the hell did you sell it?!” Asmo screams as he throws his fist at his brother, ultimately missing and instead knocking over my desk lamp.

“I was gonna buy ya another one! Honest!” Mammon responds before being shoved into my dresser, which proceeds to fall over.

When it falls over my secret candy drawer opens and reveals itself to the world. Though Asmo and Mammon are too busy fighting to notice it, a certain ginger woke up as the scent of it was suddenly released from its confines. He comes racing in and immediately begins to devour my candy. Belphie follows after him, rubbing his eyes sleepily and coming to lay on my bed, completely disregarding the fact that I am on it still. He lays his legs across my lap and I let out a sigh of annoyance.

“Beel! That’s my candy! I got it from the human world I won’t be able to get any more for a really long time!” I whine knowing that Lucifer would never permit me to take a trip home for something so insignificant in his eyes.

“Sorry MC, I can’t help it my stomach won’t let me stop.” He responds with a mouth full of chocolates. He continues to eat them and I feel my heart sink a bit. Before I can get anymore upset though Mammon tackles Asmo onto my bed, breaking it in half causing all four of us to end up on the floor.

“Would you stop making a racket I’m trying to watch the new episode of I accidentally altered my friends personalities out of annoyance and now I have to fix it before they are permanently stuck like that but I can’t hear it if you normies are breaking things right next door!” Levi suddenly comes storming in, already in his demon form.

“Shut it ya stupid otaku!” Mammon responds before Levi runs over and joins his and Asmo’s wrestling match.

Satan comes in next, also in demon form, which causes me to curl into myself as I try to avoid the four violent demons and get the sleepy one off of me. I sigh once more before I feel a very dark energy enter the room.

Lucifer stands in full demon form while everybody freezes in place. Dread suddenly setting in as they realize they’d woken up the eldest brother.

“It is the crack of dawn and yet I already have to stop you fools from bickering and destroying the dorms.” He growls as they all cower back in fear.

“H-h-hey Lucifer we were all just playin’! Right guys?” Mammon stutters our trying to ease the situation.

Lucifer responds yelling something about pathetic excuses. I cant hear the exact words though as my ears ring and I feel hot tears of frustration burn down my cheeks.

“SHUT UP!” I surprise everyone and myself and with my sudden outburst. It was only then that they all realized I was crying. I wiped my eyes and sniffled before letting out a sob.

“MC, I know you are upset but that is no way to talk to y-“ Lucifer begins before I shove him out of the way and run to my doorway. Before I leave I turn to them all.

“You are all rotten demons! You’ve destroyed all my stuff once again and I’m so tired of being apart of these petty arguments!” I scream out. I see a small amount of regret, guilt, and worry in their eyes for a moment before I turn back around walking out of the room.

“I wish you could all just be decent for more than three minutes!” I yell, continuing down the hall and out the front door of the House of Lamentation, instead making my way to Purgatory Hall.

[liberolove]

Meeting Noya (pt. 4)

Pairing: Nishinoya Yuu x shy, smart, inexperienced reader

Summary: you and noya are both in the same english class and he asks you for help with studying the material. this causes you two to get closer until he cant handle it and ends up confessing. now you get to know him in a different way.

Genre: crack, fluff

Warnings:  cussing, anxiety, and noya being his cute self (人◕ω◕)

Masterlist: click here

-

It’s only been about an hour since Nishinoya left my house. I can’t believe what just happened.. When I told him I liked him too, his entire face went blank for a second, trying to process what I said, but then his face lit up. 

We hugged for what felt like hours, and it was so comforting and new. My heart yearned for him, but I let myself get in the way. Now, though.. it’s different. We can finally try this out.

I don’t really know what to do, however. I’ve never been in a relationship.. Wait.. Has he ever been in one? I don’t even know. As far as I remember, he’s never had any girlfriends throughout the time I’ve known him. But he could have dated someone secretly? 

Naaah. That’s not him. He’s the type of person to show off their significant other. At least, I hope. I’m too much of a wuss to ask him. 

Oh my gosh. Wait, does this mean we’re officially a couple? UGH. I have so many questions.. What the heck just happened.. 

━━━━━━━━»•» «•«━

I had just arrived at school, making my way towards my first class of the day. I was so fucking anxious. Noya hadn’t called or texted me since yesterday. My mind kept racing, and my anxiety was getting the best of me. Was it something I said? Or did? Did I scare him off somehow? I really don’t know..

“(Y/N)!!!” (YYYY/NNNN)!!!!!!”

Am I hearing things or is someone calling my name? I turned around, and there was no one there. So, I kept walking towards class. Then, I heard footsteps running towards me.

Before I could turn around again, I was TACKLED down to the ground.

“(Y/N)! Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

“Noya, what the fuck. You scared the shit out of me. I thought I was hearing things.”

I wasn’t sure what just happened, but I did realize that Noya was hovering over me, as I laid on the floor. My heart started picking up speed, and my cheeks flushed.

“Sorry, I got a little excited, ha. Here, let me help you up.” 

He put his hand out and I took it. “Next time, warn me if you wanna wrestle me down to the ground.” I fixed my uniform, and shook the dirt off of it.

“Can you hold something for me?” 

“Hold what?”

He grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers. Fuck, this man was going to be the death of me. 

My breath quickened, and he noticed. “Hey, (y/n), are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just.. umm.. youmakemefeelnervous..” I muttered.

Thank goodness he understood me. “Oh, sorry.. I just wanna touch you and be near you.. if that’s okay?”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I’m just not used to it..”

“(Y/n).”

“Yeah?” 

“Is this your first time holding hands with somebody?”

I refused to answer.

“wHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?! Oh, well. If this is your first time holding hands, then you probably haven’t dated anyone huh? OH DOES THAT MEAN I’M YOUR FIRST?! FUCK, I’m so honored!!”

I let go of his hand and hid my face. “Don’t tease meee,” I started whining. 

“I swear I’m not. It’s just cute, is all. Also, I’m guessing you’ve never kissed someone.. I mean we don’t have to right now, if you’re not ready, but I’m ready!! Whenever you are, of course. I just.. fuck.. I really like you, (y/n).”

“.. I like you too.. like a lot.. I just don’t really know what to do. I’ve never had someone like me back.”

“Don’t worry! We can take it as slow or as fast as you want, though I would prefer fast.. Just kidding! Umm, just let me know what you want to do. I really want to make you happy, you know? And I’m sorry for rambling so much, you make me so excited and warm and fuzzy inside. I hope you feel the same too..”

“I do. I’m just nervous.. about everything..”

“I do have an important life or death question for you!!”

Dread set in and Noya could tell.

“oH I’M SO SORRY! I was just teasing. I just wanted to ask you, in person..” He took both my hands in his, “Would you like to be my girlfriend? My significant other, my sunshine.. My partner in crime?”

My face reddened, and I couldn’t respond. I felt my chest on fire, and suddenly everything went to black.

-

When I became conscious again, all I could see was Nishi over me, holding me tightly. Once he saw my eyes open back up, he cried, “(Y/n)!!! What the hell!!! DON’T SCARE ME LIKE THAT! Are you okay?? Can you get up? I need to take you to the nurse!”

Everything was blurry, and it was hard to stand up on my own. He helped me up and I leaned my weight on him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, okay?”

We made our way to the nurse’s office, and she took me inside. “Young man, could you stay outside, please? I’ll make sure she’s alright. Go to class.”

Sadness took over him, and he walked away with his head down. “I’ll see you after class, once I’m better!” And instantly, he grinned and scurried off to class.

“Now, let’s take a closer look at you, hun.”

━»•» «•«━━━━━━━━

It was lunch by the time the nurse was done checking on me. She gave me some pain reliever for my headache and orange juice. She also let me nap, to regain my energy.

I was walking over to the vending machines, when I met up with Noya. He spotted me and ran up to me.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He rubbed his hand up and down the small of my back.

“I’m doing better, thanks. Sorry for kinda dying on you back there.”

“No! Don’t be sorry! I’m sorry for tackling you and asking you to be my girlfriend.. I guess it was too much, haha. Oh, by the way, you never answered my question.. OH, and you don’t have to worry if you faint again. I’m here and I’ll make sure to catch you.” 

“It’s okay. Sometimes, I get so nervous, I faint. And to answer your question, yes. I’d love to be your partner in crime.” I smiled at him, and he hugged me so tight I thought he was going to break my ribs.

“Now, let me buy you some lunch.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. 

“Gotta make sure you don’t faint on me again.”

-

[masterlist]

[mattzerella-sticks]

Spill

A Dean/Cas 2.7k stay-at-home pwp E-rated fic

Dean always thought it would take more to force him into retirement. Yet here he is, locked in the Bunker until the world figures out a cure for a deadly virus. It could be worse - at least they have a home. He cannot imagine how worse it would be if this happened years earlier, where he and Sam were trapped in a tiny motel room together. Here they have options, and miles of outdoor space they can stroll through if their options become stale.

And they were beginning to. Dean could only do so much indoors. Dean knew he needed to shake things up, but couldn't begin thinking how. Luckily Castiel has an idea, and gives him a new way of looking at their kitchen.

           Dean hears the faucet first. Slows his hurried steps into the kitchen once he realizes someone is already inside. Instead of the frantic jog, Dean enters at a normal pace. Although that turns into a stumbled stop when Dean sees who stands by the running water.

           Castiel glances up, brow raised. Dirt streaked across his face, up his arms, and all over his clothes. The gray fabric of his snug tee darkened by both that and sweat highlighting the curves of his muscles. Jeans hanging from his hips, a peek of orange underwear catching Dean’s eye. Dean cannot linger there so he forces himself down and notices how the fraying hems overhang on his bare feet. He spots muddied boots not far from where the other man stands, socks bunched up in one. “Hello, Dean,” he says, “are you looking for something?”

           Talking is difficult. His already dry throat worsens. He licks at the sand sticking to the corners of his lips. “Need a beer.”

           “Then by all means,” Castiel nods his head at the refrigerator, “I’m not stopping you.”

           Dean waits. Signals cross in their haste, his arms making an aborted reach. When they settle at his side Dean finds his legs moving. He walks two steps and pauses again at the fork.

           If he goes the shorter way, risks entering Castiel’s orbit, he will undoubtedly find himself trapped. But curving around the island would garner unwanted suspicioun. Why make the extra effort if the first route was quicker?

           Castiel watches him now, Dean taking too long in his thoughts. He chooses the former option and steels his will.

           All hope evaporates when Dean’s hand brushes against Castiel’s ass in an unavoidable collision. “Sorry,” he says, beaming, “I thought you were past me already.”

           “No, ah – not there yet,” Dean coughs, scratches his cheek, “but I’m close!” He chuckles lamely. Tapers off when Castiel stays silent. Dean turns and finishes the mission. Grabs his beer and shuts the refrigerator door with a sigh. But he doesn’t leave. Not yet. “What, ah,” he points at Castiel with the neck of the bottle, “what were you doing?”

           Castiel glances at his state and shrugs. “If I told you I was mud wrestling, would you believe me?” The image nearly causes a trip to the infirmary, his grip on the bottle tighter than necessary. Recommended if he wanted glass shards in his hands. “No,” Castiel continues, “I saw that today’s weather called for clear skies and sun. What with the whole stay-at-home orders forcing us into semi-retirement I figured now would be the perfect time to clear off that patch of space. You know, the one we talked about.”

           Dean remembers. Castiel’s eyes glowed without aid from his grace, picturing the different kinds of plants he could grow. Planning where they would go and how it would all look. From conception to helping him buy supplies at Home Depot, Dean helplessly followed Castiel. Lost in his excitement, the tides of it washing him further out into the bottomless seas of Dean’s affection.

           “What I managed to get done, however, was make a mess all over myself.” Castiel held up his one arm as proof, tan skin hidden by patches of filth. “I think planting will be better served for another day.” Castiel frowns, then, skewing his head. Eyes staring through each and every wall Dean built. “What are you doing?”

           “Oh, you know…” he waves his beer, “getting a drink.” Dean finally notices the scant amount of space left between them, Castiel drifting closer at some point. “That I’m… I’m going to drink. So…” He holds the bottle up higher in mock cheers, then opens it. Except his eyes stay with Castiel’s, locked together.

           Castiel has no problem breaking their contest. He glances down, frown deepening with a sigh. Dean trails after and sees what happened.

           His beer. Unknowingly, when he opened it, some of the drink bubbled up and spilled out of its mouth. With Castiel close, some of it splashed on his feet. “Shit,” Dean pulls the bottle closer, wincing, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

           “You really should be more careful Dean,” Castiel says. He gestures at the small puddle, “who’s going to clean that up now?”

           “I… I -uh…” Dean had an answer. He did. Then Castiel met his gaze again, this time with furrowed brows and piercing intensity, and the words joined the puddle on the floor. Dean grinned, expression dopey, and blew on the remaining fizz to ease the tension. “Ha?”

           Castiel rolls his eyes. “Idiot…” muttered fondly under breath. He folds his arms over his chest, shifting. Stares at the bottle. “Well?” he asks, “Are you going to drink what’s left? If you were feeling left out in being dirty, I’m sure there were other methods you could have used that didn’t waste beer.” Something glints under Castiel’s eyes after his comment, that startled him.

           A nervous giggle eases free from Dean’s lips before slamming shut into a half-smirk. He brings the bottle up to his mouth and drinks. Although only Castiel’s raven tufts stay in his line of sight, Dean feels the ever-warm gaze of his friend on him. Studying him, thinking.

           There’s more warmth, as Dean feels Castiel’s calloused fingers slide up his neck and squeeze under his jaw. Dean chokes slightly, beer swishing inside his mouth. Blocked, dammed by outside pressure. “Cas?” he asks, gargling his name.

           “Keep drinking Dean,” Castiel tells him. Whispers, his free hand stroking Dean’s hair, “Go on. Keep drinking.”

           Dean tries lowering the bottle. Where Castiel’s arm sat, he cannot bring it fully down. Concerned he switches course, searching for an answer in his friend’s face. Nothing he understands waits for him in the calm smile or unwrinkled skin. When he sees his eyes, Castiel’s normal blue a thin ring around large, black pupils, Dean gets it.

           He nods, wrapping his lips more firmly around the bottle. Beer flows from the glass and into his mouth, cheeks puffing up with drink that circles the drain without going down. His eyes water from the stretch. Dean feels his Adam’s apple bobbing, swallowing more on instinct than by choice. Darkness swirls at his vision as the need for air rears its head.

           With a single cough, it’s over. Dean splutters, bottle pulled away while beer waterfalls out his mouth and onto the floor again. Hacking, gasping, Dean wipes at his chin. Where he feels what little he caught there drying and leaving his skin tacky. Castiel hums, the hand on his neck featherlight while the other continues stroking Dean’s hair. “You happy?”

           “Are you?”

           “What?” Dean clears his throat, glaring at Castiel. Holding onto the island otherwise he would fall into the lake of El Sol.

           “Are you happy with your drink, Dean?” Castiel asks.

           He scoffs, coughing again. “Maybe if I had a chance to actually drink it instead of spitting it back up like some virgin…” Dean blushes, squeezing the empty bottle.

           Castiel shrugs. “How unfortunate…” The gentle scratching at his head turns painful when he grabs a handful of Dean’s hair, an edge of pleasure hovering behind the bite. “I guess the next mess we make… it should be enjoyable for both of us.” He winks, and then uses the hand that once held Dean’s neck to instead squeeze at his junk.

           There was no mistaking the message.

           Still, Dean glanced up at Castiel with wide eyes. He runs his tongue over already sticky lips, “You mean…?” Castiel tilts his head again, smiling wide enough his gums showed.

           Dean dropped with enough speed he made a splash. On autopilot, Dean works Castiel’s cock free with professional carelessness. A man with ten-thousand hours of experience, memories imprinted on the muscles over the years. A master.

           He pushes the jeans low at his knees, and then pushes Castiel up against the island. Castiel groans, tugging on Dean’s hair and coaxing a whine from him. “Good, Dean,” he slurs, one foot sliding forward because of the messy puddle they chose to do this in, “Please…” Dean guides his free hand, the one seizing at his side, up onto the island for support. Finally, he slides fingers around the other man’s cock.

           It’s difficult. Dried beer is not a good substitute for lube. So, after three unsuccessful jerks with his yeasty hand, Dean lets go and swallows Castiel whole. Castiel seizes under him, a leg jumping up and splashing more of the puddle everywhere. There’s another round of hair pulling, enough Dean closes his eyes and sees constellations forming in the shadows.

           “You’re such a good little cocksucker, Dean,” Castiel hisses, “know exactly what to do…” Dean pops off Castiel’s cock, licks a stripe up the underside – from base to swollen head – and then takes it. His length stretches Dean’s mouth, not wide enough that it hurts. Enough, though, Dean can feel the beginning aches in his jaw.

           His hands come into play again, now that the possibility of chaffing Castiel’s cock lessened considerably. One joins his mouth on the shaft, following when he slides up and letting Dean’s mouth push it back towards the base. The other first rests at Castiel’s hip. Thumb kneading the skin with enough force to bruise. When Dean finds the sounds coming from Castiel unsatisfying, it slides a path down. Dean holds his friend’s balls and when his lips are fully stretched, he squeezes.

           Castiel pulls Dean’s head by his hair with a grunt, sliding him away. Although his hips canted forward chasing the loving heat from his mouth. Dean unsheathes the cock from his lips. Instead he drops a chaste kiss on the head, followed by a quick lick at the slit. He hums as the taste of precum sits on his tongue. “You’re a sweet boy, Cas,” Dean says. Drunk with beer on his lips, his skin, and his pants. Everywhere except inside of him. “Love it… love how it’s all for me…”

           “It is. Only you Dean,” Castiel says, twitching under him. “Please, I feel it… please…”

           Dean chuckles, playing with his friend’s balls and eliciting another moan. “Might as well,” he tells him, “what’s one more mess…” Dean slobbers a few more kisses on Castiel’s cock, heart beating furiously at what pleasure it brings both of them. He feels his own length hardening in his pants, fabric tenting, while Castile grinds curses into dust between his teeth.

           Letting go of Castiel’s balls, he scrapples upwards and latches onto the sweaty, dirt-strewn shirt. Bunches it in his fist while he almost tears it. A few stiches ripping open reaches his hears in the midst of pleasure. Dean forgets them immediately with Castiel forcing his cock back into Dean’s mouth.

           “Almost… Dean, take me there. Please…!” Castiel gasps, slamming his hand on the island surface. Dean scoots closer into the open space of his legs, sucking on Castiel’s cock with increased fervor. Desperate for his come.

           Midway over Castiel’s cock, a new sensation joins the orgy. Someone screams, neither Castiel nor Dean. He opens his eyes and sees Sam standing at the entrance. “Sam –“ he says, choking on the hard cock. With teeth scraping the throbbing length, Castiel loses all control. Come shoots down his throat, Dean totally unprepared. He hauls off the other man’s cock, spitting seed onto the floor while more coats his hair and face.

           Sam keeps screaming. “Why are you doing this out here!” he says, back facing them. Frozen outside the kitchen like a guard. “We eat here – we make food here! You two… why? Why?”

           Dean remembers. He and Sam were in the middle of watching a movie in the Dean Cave. Nearing the end, Dean’s bladder could barely wait, and he paused the movie. Left Sam while he scurried off to the bathroom. When finished, Dean figured he had enough time for another beer.

           Except Castiel was an unexpected obstacle.

           “Sam,” Castiel says, curled over, pulling jeans and underwear over his soft dick again, “Sam, what are – I’m so sorry. We’re sorry –“

           “No.” Sam points, as best he can, at them. “No, I… I need space. I need time. I need… a drink.”

           Castiel shrugs. “There are some in the fridge –“

           “Not those.” He sighs, turning partly towards them. Enough for his forehead to rest against the doorway. Eyes screwed shut, he continues. “I think I’ll be seeing that for the rest of my life… I’m – I am going to get drunk. Very drunk. And, if I still remember this in the morning, I will be looking up spells. In the meantime… clean yourselves up.” Sam speeds off, the sound of his steps trailing after him.

           Dean wrings his hands, the burning fire in his gut smothered by Sam’s interruption. It’s a low-burning ember. He intends to keep it like that, along with what’s left of his dignity. “That was… that sure was something,” he says, “really… something.”

           “Dean…”

           “We probably should start cleaning up…” He still sits on his knees. Dean tries standing, except a slight pressure on his chest stops him.

           Castiel lays a foot over his heart, smirking. The layer of blue in his eyes thinned further, barely a speck of color left. Dean is shocked into silence. “I enjoyed what we did very much, Dean,” Castiel says, head skewed to the side, “Did you?”

           Taking longer than Castiel liked, Dean feels the weight on his chest increase. Knocks him back on his knees. “I – I did,” he tells Castiel, “I really did.”

           “I can see.��� Castiel’s gaze draws Dean down where his own cock rests, surprisingly half-hard.

           His foot pushes on Dean again, and suddenly his ass soaks in the beer-cum puddle. “What are you doing?”

           “Sam said he’s going to get drunk,” Castiel says, not letting up with the pressure until Dean’s back is on the floor and he stands over him. “And will, most likely, avoid this place until tomorrow morning. Meaning we have as long as we want before we need to worry about cleaning.” He pulls his foot away, a stain of his arch and toes drying on Dean’s shirt. Castiel lowers himself over Dean, lips an inch away from his. “Since we’ve already made this much of a mess… what’s a few more?”

           Dean huffs. His smile blossoming without choice. “That makes perfect sense.” Then he leans forward and kisses Castiel, tongue slipping past and meeting his. Somehow the flavors there mix with the taste of him already in Dean’s mouth, a firework of Castiel exploding and causing every nerve in his brain to melt into goo.

           When Castiel pulls away, Dean whines. His hands lazily tug him back, Castiel chuckling while he swats at them. “Relax Dean,” he says, brushing a thumb at the exposed skin above his hip. Castiel kneels between Dean’s legs, grinning. “I’m still here. Just thinking it’s only fair that I have as much a taste of you as you had of me.”

           Dean whines further, “Blowjob can wait… Wanna kiss –“

           “Dean. Who said anything about a blow job?” Castiel fiddles with the zipper on Dean’s pants, hiking one leg up over his shoulder.

           Dean hauls the other one over Castiel’s adjoining shoulder, kicking at his tightly laced boots. “Kissing can wait.”

           Castiel pulls at a lace, helping Dean with his right boot. After it hits the floor, Castiel presses a light kiss on the sock-covered ankle. While he works on the left boot, Dean hauls him closer and digs his heel into Castiel’s back. He chuckles, “Pushy…”

           “Less being an ass and more ass kissing…”

           “As you wish.” Castiel undoes his jeans. Dean watches him through hooded eyes, at peace on the kitchen floor. Even when he feels the remnants of the beer not soaked up by his clothes touch his exposed ass, Dean barely squirms. The mess doesn’t matter. What does is pressing butterfly kisses at his fluttering hole while a finger circles it. Dean sighs, and what was left of his mind fades into the comforting static of bliss.

           They absolutely fail to meet Sam’s deadline next morning.

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (6/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: This chapter is from Vassa's perspective and I truly loved writing it. A fair amount of research went into figuring out how she might see the world in firebird form, and as a result, everybody in my life now knows about the wonders of bird vision. Thanks to them for putting up with me, and thanks to you for reading! You can read early previews of the next chapter every Tuesday by following @house.of.hurricane on Instagram. And as always, you can read all chapters at AO3 if you prefer. You can find all chapters here.

-

The world is alive in this form, more than Vassa can ever explain, even to Lucien. She is not sure if this is the result of magic or her firebird eyes, but by day, the world is filled with a million colors that humans have no words to describe, colors that are bright and subtle and mark every being indistinguishably. When Vassa is the firebird, there is never any mistaking one individual for another.

When Koschei first bound her, Vassa could not focus on her lost country or her lost freedom for whole days at a time, so magnificent was the sight of the water on his lake, the way the droplets spangled when struck with her wings, the play of the fire upon the water.

Eventually she became acquainted with the splendor of her view, though her thoughts move differently in this form, at times swift and darting past her human powers to parse, and at times so lugubriously working through a problem or story that Vassa aches for the setting sun, the moment when her mind will return to her.

Always, she misses the power of speech, the workings of her human mind, and company. Koschei might have other prisoners, but Vassa was held alone on his lake. Even now, during the days she spends with Lucien, she can only watch him, the play of light on hair that in this form is as alive as the fire itself, transfigured by each play of light and shadow, or the subtle changes of expression on his face. She knows Lucien has been loved before, and deeply, but she has enough pride in her to think that nobody has ever watched him as she has, knowing the topography of him that’s subtler than even faerie eyes can detect.

After a week touring the lakes on Tamlin’s lands, Vassa tells Lucien to stay at the estate until the afternoon. She has watched the darkness bloom under his eyes, the silences that stretch between him and Tamlin and Elain, and she wants to soothe them. She will stay at the lake closest to the manor house, she tells him, where she can quickly fly to safety if she detects an intrusion.

She does not tell him that she feels Koschei’s tether on her, stronger now than it ever has been. Since Master Archeron bargained her way from the lake, there has always been this invisible binding on her neck and shoulders, a spell even Helion, famous for such things, could not detect, though Vassa chose not to tell him of her fetter when he sought to free her. She wanted to test his mettle. And at the time she was practically drunk on the newness of her almost-freedom that the very mention of her invisible chains seemed its own abomination.

In the past week, it feels as if Koschei has applied both fists to the chain that connects him to Vassa and pulled with all his might. She wakes from sleeping on the easternmost corner of the bed, fingertips grazing the floor. Her shoulders pinch from the strain of holding herself in one place. At times she finds breathing to be difficult, as she is being pressed by boulders.

She is certain that Koschei is done biding his time. He will soon come to claim her.

For all his reassurances to the contrary, she knows that Rhysand has no plan to save her. Oh, his court has gleaned certain insights and may think they have the upper hand against the death-lord, but while Koschei is still alive in this world, Vassa knows he will return for her. She doesn't know why he is so determined to claim her, can only guess at why she is essential.

Alone and without speech, she is free to follow these thoughts where they lead, caught between mourning and contemplation and the wariness alive in each beast.

Which is why she spots Elain’s hair glinting in the dappled forest light before the girl is near enough for her slippered steps can break a twig.

Vassa studies the girl as she draws closer to the lake. Elain’s eyes become more dazzled, shaded by her hand, so that Vassa is certain that the girl left her gardens and came searching for the firebird.

If Elain Archeron is lovely to Vassa’s human eyes, the girl the firebird sees is stunning, her hair a shining riot of color, her eyes deep and glinting, all of her glowing and alive with the subtle movements of her body as she makes her way through the trees. Her gown, perhaps a drab fabric to other eyes, is all the colors of the spring flowers, the hopeful entreaty that winter end its grip. There is a sadness to this girl, but now especially Vassa wants to shake her, frustrated with the idea that such a beauty could find anything lacking in this world.

Of course, Vassa was known as a beauty to her people, a beloved queen. She knows these gifts are no assurance and yet Elain still bothers her, a vision of discontentment and wasted gifts. She knows she should feel pity towards her, but she does not. If Lucien is her mate, then she is unbound. She could be anything at all.

When Elain approaches the lake, Vassa glides toward her, head unbowed, her magic eyes unflinching, until the girl blinks and looks away, focused on the waters that sparkle with Vassa’s fire.

“Things have been awkward between us,” Elain says. “I saw Lucien at breakfast and I thought it might be my chance to speak with you. I thought, maybe you do not know how it is for the High Fae, when they find mates.”

Vassa cants her head to the side, although she wants to scoff. Let the girl continue in her folly.

“I confess that I’m newly acquainted with all of this myself. And I’ve never felt -- my point is, I admire you and I wish that we could be better companions.”

She is looking down the length and breadth of Vassa’s body, and then Elain pulls out her skirts, settles herself on the rock where Lucien sits. In her hands, there is a book.

“I know you cannot speak and so I will not try and settle things between us. I only want to say that I wonder if you understand how it feels to be wanted by someone whose attention or admiration you have never desired. Someone who was forced upon you by fate. And that someone might be wonderful, but the forcing itself makes him more than a little repulsive.”

Elain looks up from the water, as if she’s worried that Vassa will fly at her in a blaze of fury. But Vassa learned early that there is value in letting a person tell their entire story without interruption, and frankly she is curious to learn what caused Elain to make herself into a little doll, beautiful but hardly useful.

“I was about to be married when I was captured by Hybern. My betrothed, I think you know him, he has little regard for faeries. He did not want me when he saw how I had changed. And then Lucien was there, always there, watching me with longing eyes, and I felt as if I had to perform for him, all the happiness and wanting I’d felt for Greyson so naturally. But there was another person, another male, who helped me to heal. He was kind and quiet with me, and I never thought about what I had to be to him, what I had to be for him, until it was too late. Because we couldn’t… and then he fell in love with someone else. And they discovered shortly after that they were mates. Do you know, I think that this whole idea of mates is awful. To have that looming over you. I thought I loved Greyson because I loved him. Even if we were fated to fall in love, I thought that I’d met all of the people I’d met in my life and I’d chosen him. And with this other male, it was always forbidden. Lucien had claimed me as his mate. It was a matter of political significance. But I thought, even if I find him a little repulsive, at some point in the many centuries in which I’m now to live, maybe I would feel as if fate had given me a gift. Maybe I would look at him longingly, the way he looked at me. Instead he found someone he liked better. And you seem wonderful, but to look at you that night, to smell his scent on you, the scent of this faerie who had been chosen for me irrevocably, was as if there was suddenly no reason for me to be in this world.”

Elain lets out a long breath and Vassa circles the lake, averting her eyes for a few moments to give the girl her privacy. The small muscles of her face will reveal too much.

When Vassa comes back to Elain’s rock, those brown eyes sparkle with tears, bright as topaz, and she understands how Lucien could have loved her at first sight. She looks like a princess in need of rescue, the ordeal and the reward completely intertwined.

“I know that I have hurt you,” Elain says, when Vassa is settled before her, “and I am sorry for that. I have been awkward and I should have apologized sooner. I hope that we can be friends. Or at least that you can tell me, I don’t have the word exactly, but how it is to be you.”

The word Elain looks for is grown or queenly or powerful, and Vassa longs for a miracle of speech so that she could suggest each, impart a lesson. Though she would start by telling Elain the truth, the secret she now begins to regret knowing, that she has been free all along. Instead, making sure she’s far enough to avoid singing Elain’s skirts, she lays her head upon the rock where the girl is seated, splays her wings. She lays down her power for just a moment.

When Vassa returns to her turns about the lake, to her contemplation of the forest, Elain begins to read her book. Vassa would have expected a trifling novel, a melodrama full of powerful men and swooning women, but Elain has found a book that tells the history and myths of Prythian, and her voice does not stumble as she reads.

One day, decades from now, when she’s a wrinkled crone and Elain’s eyes are still exactly this wide, Vassa will tell her that she’s read this book before.

&

&

&

That night, at dinner, the silence is as thick as usual, so that when Vassa, seated at the foot of the long table, turns to Elain, on her left, she feels as if she’s moving underwater, the very air resisting her gestures.

“I wonder if you’d walk in the garden with me after dessert,” she says, raising her glass of wine to her lips. “I’ve been told you’ve been hard at work.”

Vassa feels Tamlin and Lucien staring at her, tense, and for a second, Elain’s mouth is a perfect pink circle, but it’s quickly replaced by a smile.

“I’d love to show you around, your majesty. The jasmine should be lovely at night.”

“You’ve imported some Night Court favorites, then?” Every person from that land carries a hint of jasmine in their scent, so that Vassa sometimes wonders if it’s naturally occurring in their water.

“I think it is important for a garden to be as beautiful as possible at all times. In each season, there should be blooms. My time in the Night Court has shown me that there can be flowers at every hour. The climate here is perfectly suited.” Suddenly the girl has vanished. Elain sounds like the people who have surrounded Vassa all her life: queens.

Vassa asks a few more questions about what it’s like to garden in a land that’s perpetually spring, and the color rises in Elain’s cheeks as she answers, praising the quality of the soil and the talent of the Spring Court gardeners, so that Tamlin eventually joins the conversation. When he compliments the new arrangements Elain has made in her garden, her face flushes, and for a second Vassa wonders -- but she pushes the thought aside, tries not to think about Lucien’s lingering silence, the wariness in his posture. One thing at a time. Her mission tonight is a diplomatic one, and since she was a little girl, Vassa has very rarely failed.

When she walks into the garden with Elain, the air is sweet with lilac and jasmine, and Vassa can’t help but smile. The girl may be wasting many of her gifts, but she is a talented gardener.

“That was a pretty speech you gave this morning,” she says, and Elain’s breath catches. “Though you were foolish to trust me with so much information.”

“I’m sure Lucien has told you most of it already.”

This is the first moment when Vassa could tell Elain the truth and it rises up in her, a bubble of fire in her chest. She forces it down by imagining Lucien’s face, his fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, the way he is in the evenings when he can finally release the cares of the day. She will not be the one to take that from him.

“Your gardens are beautiful. I would never have thought there was such a tempest inside you,” she says instead, another version of the truth.

“I have a habit of hiding in the garden and working until all my rogue emotions are beaten out of me.”

“Until you are perfectly ladylike?”

“My tutors often said I was most lovable after I’d had the sun on my face. And later -- but that is an unpleasant story, your majesty.”

“Often the most entertaining kind. Why do you not call me Vassa?”

“I never thought a queen would be asking me for gossip.”

“Your father was known even in my country. Your sister is High Lady of the Night Court. You are not such a bumpkin as you pretend.”

“I was told that a lady should be demure.”

“Do you think you will be happy playing in your gardens for all eternity?”

Elain turns to her, skin glowing blue-white in the moonlight, the exact color at the center of a flame, and her face is stricken. Vassa draws in a deep and silent breath through her nose. She needed to ask the question, she tells herself. For all that Elain could possibly be.

“I think that there is more to life than war and politics. You all play at death all day long and consider your time spent well.”

“Is this what you imagine your sister does in her court?”

Elain turns toward a cherry tree, pulls a drooping branch toward her, fat with blossoms, and the air fills with their perfume, blocking Vassa from getting closer in the guise of admiring her own handiwork.

“My sisters are warriors. This has never been my talent. I watched the legions on the battlefield and I could pick out the details of each face, and I thought, each of these people has a family waiting for them. I could not be the one to ensure they never returned.”

“You killed the king of Hybern.”

Elain’s eyes skitter once more towards the flowers. Vassa places her own hand on the branch, pressing it away, so that she’s standing close to the girl, can tell she’s about to lie.

“Nesta killed the king of Hybern. I only -- I had the knife in my hands.”

“You think your sisters wanted to go into battle?”

“Will you tell me whatever it is you want to tell me?”

Vassa has to bite back a smile. It’s like hearing a kitten issue a rebuke.

“You have such mandates in you about what you must be as a lady, but it seems they only apply to you. Do you believe you were born only to be ornamental? I hear you speak about these gardens, and you assume the voice of a ruler. There are tales that you were blessed by the Cauldron with gifts. And yet I think you are afraid.”

“You’re angry at me for this?”

“I have lost my kingdom and I am imprisoned inside the firebird all day. I cannot save my people from the wrath of weak and terrible rulers.” Vassa lets go of the branch in her hand, so that it thwacks upward and showers them in petals. “I think you could be anything at all, and you’ve decided to become nothing.”

Elain works her fingers in a tight knot, looks at her delicate rings instead of Vassa, the long and graceful digits. Even the hands of the High Fae are too beautiful to be human. She’s mostly grown to accept this, but sometimes Vassa finds herself a little jealous.

“I was supposed to marry somebody,” Elain says, finally, and the words are raw, as if they were dredged up from the very marrow of her. “Nobody ever thought I’d be anybody, all on my own.”

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

Even before Elain’s head nods at the top of her lovely neck, Vassa’s begun planning her lessons.

&

&

&

After that night, they fall into an easier pattern: once dinner has ended, Vassa teaches Elain about court life and diplomacy, all the ways a human woman can be a queen and how they might apply to the faerie courts. Elain listens attentively, and asks questions that show Vassa that she’s reading the histories in Tamlin’s library. Her voice takes on a certain gravity, and in Vassa’s presence, she rarely blushes. In exchange, Vassa talks about her people, her dreams for Scythia. She knows that men suppose that women’s deepest secrets involve their emotions toward men, but her own secrets have been her wishes for her country, what she might achieve with and for them. She tells Elain a few of these secrets, the lesser ones which wouldn’t cause particular harm in the telling, and when Tamlin and Lucien do not bring them up, when the servants do not comment, Vassa decides that she’s found a worthy confidante.

After her lesson with Elain has ended, Vassa spends the rest of the night with Lucien. As he promised, he still goes out to the lakes with her in the mornings, even sometimes taking her to far-off but beautiful vistas that require hours of walking through the darkness, his fingers always twitching for his sword. But now that she’s survived without his constant supervision, he returns to Tamlin’s estate after a few hours, and at night he fills her in on the comings and goings: the Night Court visitors who laugh with Elain and ask him questions about Koschei and the human realms, the stilted conversations with Tamlin, the visits to the village which dispirit him more than anything. He tells her about how the Spring Court used to be, the way the people felt safe with their warrior High Lord, and though they did not love him, necessarily, they trusted him enough to die for him. She nestles herself against him, braiding his long hair until he realizes what she’s doing and chases her around the room, the two of them breathless with laughter, each throwing a bouquet of curses until his mouth is on hers and she doesn’t feel like saying anything else.

Sometimes, Vassa is startled to think that this is perhaps the happiest she’s ever been. Even the weight of Koschei’s claiming lightens.

Two weeks into this routine, Tamlin turns to Lucien at dinner and asks if he’d like to take a ride into the village. Vassa knows it’s not anatomically possible, but she swears she feels her heart twist at the light in Lucien’s eyes when he agrees.

“I think you made that happen,” Elain says later, when they’re walking through the gardens. Her eyes are bright and eager. “How?”

“I would claim the credit if I could, but I believe the credit goes to you. Your speech at the lake. Your wanting to make friends. You held a mirror up to Tamlin and his reflection looked extremely small.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Elain says, but her cheeks have flushed. Vassa stops walking and places her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“What do you want your legacy to be?” Vassa asks, the kind of question that has become habitual between them.

For a long moment, there is silence between them, only the rustling of leaves in the fragrant breeze, the whirling of Elain’s mind, which works faster than Vassa ever expected, faster than Elain has ever allowed anybody to see.

“A peace that is nurtured by beauty,” she breathes, the words hardly audible. “A world where nobody has to worry about war.”

“Then I think we are ready to begin,” Vassa says, turning toward the estate, the library inside. Tamlin’s collection is relatively meager, even compared to the human realms, but she knows he has some relevant volumes.

“Didn’t we begin weeks ago?” Elain’s skirts rustle has she tries to keep up.

“I’ve given you some very rudimentary tools. Now we start working on your legacy.”

There’s a pull at Vassa’s chest and shoulders right as she makes the statement, and when she looks over her shoulder, certain that Koschei has escaped his lake, has found her latest hiding spot, Elain is the one who reaches for her arm, pulling her to a different entrance.

“Tria said she’d have extra chocolate cake. Let’s celebrate our little victory first.” Her smile is a little sly, and Vassa can’t tell if she’d sensed the spell or was experiencing a moment of oblivious good luck. “You never told me if you had sisters or brothers.”

Vassa thinks of her cousin Leda, willful and gorgeous, heir to Scythia if Vassa herself cannot return. She rubs at her chest, where the enchantment weighs heaviest.

“I was my parents’ only child,” she says, finally, her voice high in her ears. A child’s voice, one she banished long ago.

“Well, your majesty, as it happens, I have two sisters, and we have a custom of celebration with sweets. Surely even a queen can spare a few hours for chocolate.”

Vassa intends to save a slice for Lucien, but within an hour, she and Elain have devoured all that remains of the cake and have started drinking wine, and before she knows it, Vassa is laughing uproariously at Elain’s theory that Tamlin was never hugged as a child.

When Lucien runs into the kitchen, eyes wide and worried, Elain offers him a glass and lingers while Vassa recounts their evening.

“I’ll leave the two of you to raid the larder,” she says, after a while, giving an exaggerated stretch that is obviously faked, aiming a smile at Vassa as she leaves the kitchens.

Vassa never wanted to leave Scythia or her people, but as she raises her glass to her lips, the faerie wine heady on her tongue, she thinks that maybe it would be all right if she was stuck in Prythian a bit longer.

[agemstale]

May 25th 1995

This was the first day that Pearl and Amethyst felt comfortable enough to let Opal play with the other kids out in the yard. Still such a tiny fragile child but has gotten stronger and feisty over the years watching the others play from her bedroom window. Her parents opened the back door for her and she took her first step onto the back porch. Opal tightened the grip on her favorite toy dow that she took with her everywhere, the sunlight blinded her for a moment. She took in the moment to listen to the others wrestling and playing on the swing set. Then when Opal opened her eyes again, her best friend Garnet stood before her. 

"OPAL!" Garnet yelled, holding Opal's hands. 

Garnet was a messy afro hair tot with tights and a ragged skirt from wrestling with Opals elder brother Sugilite and their friend Malachite. Her shirt was already covered in dirt though just arriving so her parents Ruby and Sapphire could head to work. 

"Garnet!" Opal yelled back, then hugged her tightly. 

Pearl kneeled down to garnet and said, "Now don't get Opal into any of your rough housing, she still a tiny lil thing and i don't want her getting hurt." 

"Yes sir." Garnet replied before pulling Opal away out into the yard.

"GARNET! HELP GET THIS DUMB BOULDER OFF OF ME!" Sugilite yelled as he was being tackled down by Malachite. 

Malachite holds Sugilite's face into the ground with his foot then pins him down, "Don't be such a wimp. If you didn't want to get your butt kicked, you shouldn't have started it!"

Garnet then steps into the fight and broke them apart, "Both of you are stupid boulders, cant you see we have a new friend today?!" 

The two boys turned their attention to Opal as she nervously waved. 

"Who are you?" Malachite snared. 

"That's my sister, Opal you ignoramus!" Sugilite snared back. 

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT WORD MEANS!" Malachite refocused his anger back on sugilite. 

"OH YA! WELL, NEITHER DO YOU!" sugilite snapped trying to charge at Malachite. 

"BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!" garnet finally pushed them apart. 

The two boys fall onto their butts knowing who the clear winner of the fight is. 

"Maly! You go chill with Opal. Sugy your with me." Garnet ordered. 

"Fine! You win gar." Malachite stood up and brushed himself off. 

"Next time ill defeat you both in a fight." Sugilite declared as he stood up and was pushed away by garnet.

"Ya, ya. You say that every time" Garnet replies.

Malachite then turns to Opal with his hands behind his head, "So why havn't I see you around if you live here."

"My dad told me I'm too small and fragile to play with you guys." She replies then thinks to her self, "I can see why."

"Well if you can't fight. What can you do?" Malachite questioned. 

"I can't still play tag!" Opal excitedly proclaimed. 

"Fine, you can be chaser then. GET ME IF YOU CAN!" Malachite shouted as he raced off. 

Opal chases after him as fast as she could, testing her skills as he dodges and weaves her passes. She runs at him again but then she sees a butterfly beneath her feet. she slips and falls onto her left arm.

SNAP!

the sharp sound pierces everyone's ears.

Garnet pauses in shock then runs to Opals side.

Lapis and pearl see this and rush out into the yard and separate the kids. Lapis tightly holds on to her own child "IM SO SORRY!" 

"I new it was too soon to let her play with the others." Soon pearl realizes the issue and rushes Opal to the hospital.

Lapis and Amethyst set Malachite and Sugilite down and explain to them what has happened and why they need to be more careful around opal. 

Lapis takes Malachite home.

May 26th, 1995

"It's time for school!" Lapis yells to malachite to get up. 

Malachite stumbles out of his bedroom and into his mother's bedroom then asks, "hey mom? Can I stay home today?" 

As Lapis was just finishing getting dressed, she then turns to her son, "what! Why? Are you sick?"

"Because I wanna see if opal is okay." He replies.

Lapis sighs, "You can see her when you get home AFTER school." 

Malachite yell "BUT MOM?!"

Lapis snaps back, "I SAID NO! NOW COME ON AND GET DRESSED, we already slept in too late. "

Malachite huffs and heads back into his bedroom.

When they start to leave, he grabs his backpack as he heads out the door with his mother. He tosses his backpack in then gets in himself, as Lapis gets in and lays her own school bag into the passenger sit, se looks back to her son through the rearview mirror.

Malachite disappointedly looks out his window, thinking of how he could make things right with Opal.

Lapis drives Malachite down to the bus stop, "now please be good. And have a good day... I love you." 

Malachite says as he is leaving the car, "I love you to." 

Lapis rushes off to try and make it in time for her own classes. As soon as her car is out of sight, Malachite runs back towards home. 

He runs up to their apartment and tosses his back pack on to the floor. Then goes to his room and smashes open his piggy bank then scrapes up his savings and leaves again. 

He walks through town to a flower shop, buys a dozen tiger lilies and then heads to Opal's house. 

As soon as he reaches their door he beats it trying to get someone to answer. 

Amethyst opens the door with a yawn. "Oh hey kid, aren't you suppose to be in school?" 

"Yes ma'am" he replies, "but I wanted to bring opal a gift to say I'm sorry for what happened." Showing the flowers. 

Amethyst takes them and says, "Thanks, but she is fine. It's only a broken arm." She smiles rubbing the back of her head. "But now you should be getting to school. Do you want me to drive you?" 

Malachite replies, "No, I was hoping to see her as well. MA'AM!" 

"What's with the formality?" Amethyst asks.

"My mom said it helps to be nice and use formal words to get the things you want." Malachite says nervously.

Amethyst laughs, "Well I guess it wouldn't hurt if you stayed. She is up in her room first door to the right."

 Malachite quickly hugs Amethyst then soon rushes up the stairs into Opal's bedroom. 

He finds Opal is still asleep, so he pulls up a chair next to her. Amethyst later walks in with a vase with the tiger lilies and clear water in it. He sets it by opals window. Then leaves. 

Time goes by as Malachite awaits for her to wake up contemplating what he will even say to her. 

Soon its noon, Amethyst walks in with 2 plates of food and sets them next to Malachite on the desk behind him. 

Malachite, "Is it lunch time already?" 

Amethyst replies "yep" as she gently nudges opal. "Honey, it's time to wake up." 

Malachite freaks out and silently yells "NO IM NOT READY, I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT I’M GOING TO SAY TO HER!" 

Opal sits up and yawns, "good morning mama" she rubs her eyes then looks to Malachite, "Oh?! Hey! You were that boy from yesterday." She smiles

Malachite blushes and turns away blushing, "I got you flowers."

This makes Malachite blush even more as opals eyes light up. "They are beautiful!"

Amethyst snickers, "Yes, he felt so bad, he even skipped school for you." then leaves. 

Opal: "THANK YOU MAMA! " 

They grad their respective plates and eat in silence. 

After Malachite finishes he says, "Well I guess you are okay, I'll just head home now." 

"You don't want to stay?" Opal sadly replies. 

"You want me to?" He says facing away from her.

"Well it dose get really lonely here sitting in my room all the time." Opal pleads. "Just promise you'll come see me again tomorrow okay?" 

Malachite turns to her face fully flushed "Why would you want me to stay? I'm the reason you got hurt!" 

"I.. I don't think you meant to break my arm. I am willing to give you another chance if you want. I don't really have many friends anyway so.. I'd like it if we could be friends."

[unohanadaydreams]

Happy birthday @tuliharja​! Last night I was deciding whether to answer thirst posts, hovered over yours, and saw today’s date for you b-day in your bio. I guess consider it payback for tagging me in that post, that one time haha?

May this humble offering of hurt/comfort be sufficient. I wrote and edited it all today so if my not-so-fresh eyes missed mistakes pls forgive me lmao.

so close and yet so far from death [1k+ words]

Jushiro Ukitake:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

 “Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing  Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

[nishaapologist]

Dogmeat Me, Dogmeat You (Fallout 4, First Sentinel AU)

people have been asking and yes; both rookie AND sarah have a dogmeat, and of COURSE rookie takes their dogmeat with them to boston. what do they look like, a monster???

*

It’s as Sarah is staring very intently at an old and well-annotated map of Boston — drawn over countless times by various travellers, circling places of interest and scratching big Xs over pockets of deadly radiation or Radscorpion nests that sit atop neat typeface denoting another of Boston’s many attractions for Pre-War families — that Dogmeat starts hassling her for no good reason, prodding her snout under Sarah’s armpit as her owner leans over her desk in thought. She nudges her away gently, absently, murmuring not now as she tries to draw up some strategies for the next battery of missions she’s got planned for the Commonwealth, but Dogmeat’s insistent, snuffling and poking and pushing until Sarah loses her train of thought for the third time, and she finally sighs and stands up, abandoning the idea for now to instead look down into her dog’s big brown eyes.

“You hungry, girl? Is that it?”

Dogmeat wags her tail so hard that her whole body wriggles with the motion, and when she nearly sweeps one of Rookie’s countless collectible bottles of Quantum off the nearest coffee table — waiting to be put into a bulletproof, rocket-proof, explosion-proof and just about nuke-proof container — Sarah curses and starts ushering her downstairs. “C’mon, g’won, down you go—”

Truth be told, Home Plate is a little too small for a fully-grown German Shepard, which is only made all the smaller when Sarah makes eye contact with Old Dogmeat lying at the bottom of the stairs, Rookie’s ever-faithful cattledog now greying in the face. He doesn’t quite have the spring in his step that Sarah remembers him having a few years ago, but he’s a stubborn old bastard and Rookie loves him half to death, so Sarah expects him to be hanging around a few more years yet. If she’s being strictly honest, she’d never understood the appeal of having a hound by your side on the battlefield — dogs die so easily, and Sarah’s determination to save as many lives as possible is often tested by their presence — but now she’s got a dog of her own, and, well. Rookie’s just a little smug about it all.

Still, as soon as Sarah’s foot hits the last step on the stairs, he gets up to give Dogmeat a good sniffling before circling around her legs, and Sarah has a feeling this whole thing is a setup.

“Alright, alright,” she says, stepping gingerly over wayward paws. “You know, you could be annoying someone with a face much closer to your level—”

Old Dogmeat makes a gruff sort of woof in the back of his throat, and right in that same moment the front door opens, Rookie’s red cap poking through the gap before the rest of them follows, glancing down at both dogs before peering up to Sarah’s unamused face. They take a second of contemplation — backed by the sound of Dogmeat’s tail hitting the side of the door with a whud, whud, whud —  before cracking a grin as they put two and two together.

“Oh, man, they turned to you, huh? I told ‘em I was gonna go to Polly’s and pick up some meat, but apparently five minutes is on the long side of time for them.”

As they slide inside, there’s a wrapped parcel under one arm that both dogs look very interested in all of a sudden, and Rookie holds up above their head when Old Dogmeat snarts sniffing for it. “Ey, no! This isn’t all for you, fuckers, back off—”

Sarah snorts as she watches Rookie make for the kitchen, both Dogmeats hot on their heels. “I mean, don’t they say a year for humans is seven in dog years, or something? That means five minutes for them is, like…” Sarah does the maths, and she’s not ashamed to admit it takes quite a bit of finger-counting to get there. “Thirty-five minutes. You left them to starve for half a dog hour, Rookie. For shame.”

Rookie reaches the kitchen, slapping down the meat onto the wide countertop that Sarah had constructed out of scrap metal and a prayer, and Sarah laughs at the blank stare they look at her with. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re on their side now? I heard what you said through the door, asshole, not to mention that look on your face.”

Sarah shrugs with an easy acceptance,  but anything else Rookie had to say is quickly derailed when Dogmeat jumps up to rest her impressive paws on the counter, her angled head now level with Rookie’s eyes, and they yelp, quick to tuck an elbow about her neck to bring her back down to the floor. “No! Counter is for humans, not dogs—”

Meanwhile, on their other side, Old Dogmeat pulls the same trick, nearly pushing Rookie right over to sniff at bloodsoaked newspapers, and Rookie’s face is shot through with betrayal.

“No! Down! I fed you guys this morning, why are you being so dramatic?!”

Sarah just folds her arms, content to watch the carnage as both Dogmeats hop up one after another— not even going after the meat, it seems, with their tails wagging in a way that suggests its playtime — and when Rookie finally looks back to Sarah, it’s with a long and childish whine.

“Saraaaaaah,” they whinge, one hand firmly around Dogmeat’s worn leather collar as they try (and fail) to haul her away. “Control your stupid dog!”

“You first,” she offers in return, but she relents after that, letting off a short whistle that sees Dogmeat settle in an instant, padding her way to Sarah’s side to receive a pat between her pointed ears. Rookie scowls, but a harsh command between their teeth also makes Old Dogmeat finally sit at their feet, smiling up at them with his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, unapologetic as ever.

“God,” Rookie starts, reaching over to a small basin habitually filled with clean water and left on the side to wash their hands and dishes in, dipping their hands in to find a mottled bar of soap at the bottom. “That dog suits you so well, you know that? I look at her face and I swear she looks like you sometimes.”

Sarah raises an eyebrow, and very specifically doesn’t look to Dogmeat, just in case she sees Rookie’s point get proven before her very eyes. “How so?”

“Well, you know! Weren’t German Shepards, like, Pre-War police dogs? Military dogs?” Rookie cants their head in Dogmeat’s direction, who cants hers right back. “Look at her! Tough as Brahmin hide, obeys all your commands, and she obeys even when it’s just a whistle or whatever… is she reading your mind?”

Sarah shrugs again, though even she’s been surprised by Dogmeat’s sheer tenacity out on the field. Picking her up at Red Rocket had been a spur of the moment idea, if only because Sarah’s compulsive need to do the Right Thing had convinced her to try and find the mutt an owner on the way to Diamond City, but then Dogmeat had defended Sarah from a plethora of attacks and had warned her of many more, always returning to Sarah’s side when called and finding her plenty of supplies with the aid of a keen nose. By the time they’d reached the Wall, Sarah found that she just couldn’t bring herself to let the damn dog go, and despite going through hell and high water… well, Dogmeat’s a survivor. Sarah can relate.

“I dunno,” Sarah finally says after a long minute, reaching down to scratch at Dogmeat’s ears again. “Maybe I’m just a dog person.”

Rookie watches her carefully, screwing up their face like they’re trying to puzzle something out for a few seconds, and then they relax all at once with an airy laugh.

“They say that owners and dogs are super similar, don’t they?” they begin, and Sarah’s not sure where this is going until Rookie winks over their shoulder. “Makes sense they’re just as hard to kill and as much of a pain in the ass as you are, right?”

Sarah glares back, and all it takes is for her to give a single disapproving click of her tongue before Dogmeat goes barrelling across the room, leaping up onto Rookie to cover their face in licks and nips. Rookie splutters — getting a mouthful of dog tongue in the process — and stumbles backwards, nearly crashing right into Sarah’s table of gun parts as they wrestle with her dog. “Sarah! Sarah— ugh, gross, Sarah! Call her off!”

Instead of doing that, Sarah crouches down to pat Old Dogmeat’s flank when he turns to nose at her socks, and she watches with a smile as Rookie nearly gets dragged to the floor underneath seventy pounds of muscled hound. “What do you say, buddy?” she asks, and Old Dogmeat’s shining, heterochromatic eyes watch her with wonder. “Shall I call her off in five minutes, or ten?”

The answer is actually about thirty seconds, but that’s mostly because Dogmeat ends up sitting across Rookie’s chest, pinning them to the floor as they squirm about, trapped under her weight. Rookie calls for Old Dogmeat’s help (sicc em, boy!) but when he wanders over just to lie down on their legs, Sarah’s nigh helpless with laughter.

“Traitors!” Rookie wheezes, but Sarah can’t really tell what they’re saying when Dogmeat rolls over, and all their words are muffled into a double-coat of dog hair.

[plusultrachaos]

Its secret Santa o'clock, what if kirishima and bakugo got each other because of the bakusquad playing Christmas cupid- would they use the chance to confess? Would they just get really thoughtful gifts for each other?

here you go anon! i combined both of them because i think that kiri would 100% utilize this opportunity to make his feelings known, but baku would totally just get things that make him think of kiri. (bakusquad definitely planned them to get each other.)

"This is fucking stupid." He's loud in his disapproval. He doesnt care who hears it, fuck it. Let everybody hear it. "It's fucking stupid, why give an extra a fucking gift if they aren't even gonna know its fucking me. It's a shitty tradition. I'm not doing it."

Everybody but his group of close friends aren't paying attention, used to his yelling and cursing. They are all doing their own thing and for once minding their own fucking business. His group are all fucking pouting and its annoying, especially Shitty Hair's fucking pout. It edges on being fucking cute and it's fucking infuriating. 

"Please Vakubro! It'll be fun, plus you'll get a gift out of it too. Come on, don't you want to get the best gift out of everybody? Show up everybody with your gift?" And Bakugou curses the fact that Shitty Hair knows the exact fucking way to get him to join because hes giving off a blast toward Shitty Hair and growling out a "Fine."

There's a few seconds where nothing is happening and Bakugou is seething during those moments, not wanting to do this, but wanting to do his fucking best on getting whatever extra he gets the fucking best gift ever. 

There's a hat going around and Bakugou follows it for a few moments, the fact that himself and Hair for Brains are going last not flying past him. They have something fucking planned. Bakugou lets it go becausr the hat is in his hands and he has to focus on not just fucking exploding it. He shuffles the little papers around, grabs the second to last one, and draws it out. He opens it and upon seeing the name, growls and shoves it deep in his pocket. 

This was going to be so fucking easy. 

— — — 

It wasn't easy.

Turns out Dumb Hair got his fucking Secret Santa gift early because he kept trying.to hang out. No matter how much Bakugou shot a blast at his face, telling him to fuck off. Boulder Ass was fucking insistant on hanging out. 

It was annoying. How the fuck was he supposed to get a fucking gift if this dumbass was hanging off his side the entire time. 

It wasnt until the week that the class was exchanging the stupid gift that he was actually able to get his, Boulder Ass suddenly unavailable to hang out. 

It didn't take Bakugou very long to actually acquire the gift, he had ordered it a while ago, he just couldn't fucking go and get it. Aizawa didn't ask questions, but the Redhead would've. Mainly about why the fuck his gift was coming from a jewelry store and a stuffed animal store and the dumbass cant keep his fucking mouth shut. 

The day of, he didn't wrap the gifts because they were just going to be unwrapped anyway. So they stayed in their bags and Bakugou wrote the fucking name on them. It was stupid, but he did it anyway, because he was foing to be the result of a huge ass fucking smile, probably the biggest anybody has ever seen. 

He went downstairs, holding the gift bags close and trying to put on the most intimidating face so he wouldn't get discovered.

Fucking Shitty Hair was waiting for him though, literally looking like hes guarding the fucking tree. 

"Move, Hair for Brains. What are you doing, guarding the fucking Christmas tree?" He watches as Boulder Ass moves slightly, but is still in his way, a challenge in his eyes. "Move or I'll fucking move you myself."

"Oh yeah? Guess I'm staying right here then."

"You motherfucker…" Bakugou sets the shit in his hands down and picks Boulder Ass up by his waist, walking over to the couch and dropping him. He's smirking, knowing he's won this little game between them. Until Shit Hair fucking tackles him the ground and Bakugou has to start fighting back. 

They wrestle around the lounge until Dunce Face is yelling about how there are more people coming and how they're going to start handing shit out. Bakugou says he doesnt give a fuck, but Boulder Ass stops wrestling and moves to sit on the couch. He growls before sitting next to Hair for Brains. 

As soon as everybody is in the lounge, either sitting atop each other or crowded on the floor, Dunce Face and Soy Sauce start to hand out the gifts. They hand all of them out, and everybody except for Bakugou gets a gift. "The fuck is this? Wasn't someone supposed to get me something? That's the fucking deal, isn't it? I get some extra a fucking gift, the best gift mind you, and some other extra gets me a stupid gift?" He stands up and gets ready to leave the room, pissed that something like this is happening again. He fucking hates Secret Santa. 

And then Shitty Hair is pulling him in for a kiss. And it's hot and it is something he really didn't need to happen in front of an entire group of people because suddenly he's sending out a surprise blast and Kirishima is pulling away. Bakugou gets up and sprints out og the room, his face bright red and not because of the anger. Because he's embarrassed. 

He can hear Shitty Hair fucking following him and he yells out a very loud "Leave me the fuck alone."

He hears the steps stop and get further away. And for once the dumbass is actually listening because Bakugou is freaking the fuck out alone in the the elevator. 

"Fuck." 

When the elevator opens again, he's closing it again and sending it back down. When it opens again, he's running to the couch where he can see the pointy ass hair sitting. Then hes turning Kirishima's head to look at him and kissing him harshly. He pulls away and without looking up yells "Shut the fuck up you extras." 

Hair for Brains smile is incredibly bright as soon as they're not kissing anymore and Bakugou is sitting next to him. "Open your fucking gift, Boulder Ass." He watches as Shit Hair's face turns red enough to rival his hair and he tears into the gift.  

He pulls the small box out of its bag, looking at it curiously before opening it gently. Inside is a red hardcut stone pendant on a big chain. Boulder Ass just stares at the necklace before Bakugou rips it out of his hands, pulls him closer and puts the necklace around his neck. 

"One more thing, Shitty Hair."

Kirishima stays perched halfway on his lap as he drags out the stuffed animal. It's a moderately sized shark that Shit Hair hugs close before leaning back into Bakugou's chest. "Thank you, I really really liked your gift. Though I'd say that you got the best gift ever."

"You Fucker, nothing's good enough for you. Fuck off!"

[fuckingfinwions]

Celegorm and Angrod in the “one pet cousin for each of them au”, where Feanor’s sons are assigned one of the other potential claimants to the the throne to imprison and use and they see fit. This fic fills the “held down” square on my Season of Kink bingo card.

Celegorm poked Angrod. “Get up.”

Angrod looked up from where he was lying on Celegorm’s rug (now Angrod’s bed, they’d both slept on worse camping). “Why should I”

“I want to wrestle you.”

“We’ve sparred every day since you moved me here from the dungeons. Aren’t you bored of it by now?”

Celegorm shrugged. “A bit, but the politics are too delicate for me to disappear for a few days hunting. I can out-shoot the entire guard, and obviously cant give either you or Aredhel a bow, so an archery competition is no fun.”

“You could wrestle someone else.”

“Nah, my brothers are busy, and I have to be careful of bruising the guards so much they can’t do their jobs.”

“You make this sound more appealing every minute.” Angrod closed his eyes and turned to face the fire.

“We could bet on it, choice of beds or the night?”

“You’ve offered that three times and I’ve yet to win, or the bottle of wine which wouldn’t be enough to make me forget this anyway. Leave me be.”

“No. You have to obey me, that’s the rule now.”

“Fine.” Angrod sat up and reached out to Celegorm’s legs. “I will trip you and make you fall. Oh no, you kicked  me so hard -” Angrod bopped one hand against Celegorm’s foot, “- I am going to fall over from the force of the blow. Alas I am defeated, it was well fought, good night.”

“It’s no fun if you won’t even try seriously.”

“Well, you can’t physically force me to fight back, so I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

“Maybe.” A grin suddenly appeared on Celegorm’s face. “You’re neither an interesting fight, nor usefully obedient. I guess I shouldn’t waste any more time with you.”

“Perfect.”

“I should ask one of my brothers to borrow theirs. Curufin always shares things with me, and he’s got Orodreth trained so nice and obedient. Shaking like a leaf, but that might feel good.”

“What?!”

“I told you we each got one of you, right? Curufin got Orodreth, and he’s been showing him how nice things can be if he obeys, and how much it can hurt if he doesn’t. I think Curvo must have picked up some dog training tips from all that time following me around.”

“How can you joke about my brother being tortured?” Anrgod sat up to yell better.

“Curufin might have hurt him a little bit, but Orodreth is a quick learner. He doesn’t have anything but bruises, and even those are old. They might even be from dragging him into the room.”

“All that means is that Curufin is obeying your father’s rule about no damaging our faces beyond recognizably.”

“Oh, no. Orodreth doesn’t wear clothes around Curufin, I could see every inch of his skin when I visited. All of it was quite lovely and unblemished.” Celegorm licked his lips.

“Why in the halls is Orodreth constantly naked in Curufin’s room?”

“So Curufin can have easier access, of course. It means that Curufin doesn’t have to waste time stripping him, but can go right to fucking his ass whenever he wants.”

Angrod stood up and balled his hands into fists. He glared at Celegorm. “My little brother is being raped because it’s more convenient to the oh-so-great Prince Curufin.”

“Oh, Orodreth wants it very much. He begs for it even. When I walked in he was saying his fuckhole felt so empty without a cock in it, and asked me to help since Curufin was busy with actual work.”

“You raped Orodreth and then came back here as if you’d done nothing wrong?”

“I’ll say it again, it’s not rape if the slut enjoys it.”

Angrod lunged forward at that, aiming a punch at Celegorm’s face. Celegorm ducked.

Angrod threw furious punches one after another. Celegorm manged to block most of them, though not all the ones aimed at his belly.

Celegorm gave a short sharp kick to Angrod’s side. Angrod bent over in pain for a moment, but was now at a height to elbow Celegorm right between the legs. It was Celegorm’s turn to double over, and Angrod took the opportunity to tackle Celegorm to the floor.

Angrod was half on top of Celegorm, and began kicking and punching everything in reach. This left him rather precariously balanced though, and Celegorm grabbed Angrod’s shoulders and rolled to be on top.

Celegorm kept his weight on Angrod’s thighs, and used his greater strength and reflexes from hunting to grab Angrod’s hands as punches swung at him.

Once Angrod’s hands were securely pinned to the floor on either side of his head. Celegorm smiled. “That was fun. I knew you had a good fight in you today.”

“What in Lorien and the Void are you talking about?”

“Maybe I can’t physically force you to spar with me, but I didn’t need to.”

“You said all that to provoke me?”

“Yep. It worked pretty well, didn’t it?”

“So it was all lies?”

“I haven’t fucked Orodreth, he’s really not my type.” Celegorm paused just long enough for Angrod to let out a sigh of relief, then continued. “The rest of it is true though.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I? There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”

“There’s nothing I can do about my little brother being humiliated and raped just down the hall from me? I can’t accept that!”

“Well, you’re not going to leave my room until my father says so. And Curufin refuses to come to my room ever since he nearly got eaten by a bear cub I had, so you can’t yell at Curufin for it.”

“I’ll do more than yell if he comes in here.”

“Right, so there’s no point in worrying about it.”

“You could tell Curufin to cut it out!”

Celegorm shrugged. It meant he was holding Angrod down less securely, but Angord seemed to be staying still on his own. “I could, but I won’t. We each get one, I’m not going to hone in on what Curufin does with his usurper.”

Angord said, “How else are your brothers tormenting mine.”

“Not sure. Maglor says Finrod is his ‘muse’ for now, and it’s got to be at least half-literal because there’s such a racket. I think Amrod finds ordering one of the older kids around quite fun without any sex, but I wouldn’t swear to it. It’s none of my business unless my brothers mask for help hiding a body.”