#yeah sure he was joking but THOSE CANINES

[beauleifu]

Syntax: *trying his best to flirt* Its okay, I don't bite~

Y/N: *scoffs, offended* Why not??

[munsster]

rockstar standards

A/N: PLS PLS PLS DROP SUGGESTIONS FOR HOCKEY STEVE/EDDIE im having a total brainfart but i need to break into the hockey au game bc i love it 😻 (gif creds: @cuntyarmand)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 90s AU

Summary: Corroded Coffin starts to gain some traction, and you can't help feeling stranded. 1.5k words

Warnings: minor angst/hurt comfort, fluff, pining, pet names (bug, sweetheart, sweets, baby), jealousy, undressed cuddling,

You watch him parade around the stage every Friday night. Sometimes he's playing the home stage, other times he books random amphitheaters and dive bars. But today, he's drenched in purple light on the outskirts of Chicago. It's by far the biggest venue Corroded Coffin has played. You sit by the pop up bar, but bodies are packed like sardines in this place. It's hot and loud, but it's worth it to see him so elated.

Even through his streaky eyeliner, you can tell he's adoring the attention of the pit. You can see their red fingernails and shiny tank tops and free flowing hair. You never thought Eddie would be the kinda thing you were attracted to. You also know he's not the kinda guy to be attracted to something like you. You know guys like Eddie usually go for the Pam Andersons and Courtney Loves. The Party girls. Not the ones who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a romcom alone.

That Sunday, Eddie pulls onto your street. It's late and he has a ringing headache. He couldn't think of anything better to do after touching down in Hawkins again. You'd headed home the night before, and it made his gut wrench knowing he wouldn't get to see you the rest of the weekend.

Your door creaks open, and he's smiling on the other side. He's already leaning against your doorway with the bouquet he bought earlier from the woman selling them on the corner.

"Missed you, bug," he huffs, "Can I come in?"

You step aside without another word, and he hangs his leather jacket on the coat rack like always. Something feels off when he sits on the couch to find you're on the complete opposite side from him. Usually, you're not shy about cuddling up beside him to watch a movie or share snacks or just talk.

He frowns and scoots closer, leaning in to grab at your ankle playfully. You kick his hand away, brow set hard above your lethal glare.

"Sweetheart," he huffs, tilting his head in confusion, "What's going on? Where's my cuddlebug?"

"I dunno, somewhere in Hollywood?"

His eyes nearly pop out of his head at that. You're his favorite girl and you know that. So why're you grilling him now.

"Tell me what's goin' on. What did I miss?"

And you look serious, too. This isn't some running joke he missed out on while he was away. He's not sure who bruised your confidence, but he's sure he'd like to have a few words with them. He hates the way your lip wobbles and your eyes avoid him cause it gives you away. That's how he knows you're heartbroken.

"Eddie," you whine, swiping a hasty tear from your cheek. "I just don't know why you keep me around when you could have any of those girls at your bon vivant gigs."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean, bug?" He barks it out on accident, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm gettin’ rid of you."

"Eddie, please... you're gonna make it big and get shipped off to Tinseltown, and I'll still be here, teddy. Probably being someone's lonely, suburban housewife. It's what I'm made for, and that's not what you want."

"You're wrong."

"And maybe you should go," you whisper, choking back a sob and standing from the couch.

"No, sweets, you're wrong," he says, standing and striding over to you, "You've got me wrong, and you've got you wrong."

You cross your arms over your chest and finally look him in the eye.

"'S that so?"

"Yeah," he tuts. And he has the most charming, most dastardly smile you've ever seen, flashing his canines like a gentle killer. "'Cause I'm gonna take you with me."

"Teddy."

"Nope, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go, and there's nothin' you can say to change my mind. Even if you hate my music forever, fine, I'll fix you up in a nice five star anywhere we go. You can sit and watch all the movies you like. You'll be nobody's housewife, baby, 'cause I'm keepin' you."

You roll your eyes, batting away tears when he grabs your hand to pull you back to the couch.

"And what if I said that's not what I want?" you suggest, testing his rockstar resolve with your big, wet eyes and stubborn quips.

"Then I'll give you somethin' else. Anything else. But you're mine no matter what." If only you knew how proud it made him to call you his girl. To know you support him even if you don't love his genre.  "Now, would you come closer? You're killin' me."

You obey with a frigid pout, letting him drape your thighs over his and brush his ring clad paws over your cheeks, down your neck.

"But what about your groupies and the pretty girls at the bars or in the front row?"

"What about 'em?" he says, just barely shaking his head, "I'll have somethin' way better waiting for me."

You chuckle. "You're crazy."

He cocks a brow. "Old news."

When he notices how close you've gotten, he smiles. Your manicured nails graze over his chest with the only light washing over you from the dimly lit kitchen. He can't resist his palm curling behind your neck, pulling you close for a sweet kiss.

"Where d'you keep your vases?" he mumbles, remembering the tulips resting on the little table.

"Kitchen. Above the fridge," you say with your fingers already slotting between his to pull him towards the warm light. He loves you like this: sickly sweet and tender, holding him all gentle in your hot pulse. You go to reach for a painted ceramic vase, but he wraps his arm around you and turns you away.

"Ah ah ah, drop it, sweetheart. That’s my job," he says against your temple, holding the lip of the vase and patting your ass. He takes the bouquet from your grasp and sets both on the counter by the sink. You hand him a pair of scissors and he carefully snips the stems jagged, filling the vase with water.

His stomach flips when you wrap your arms around his waist and clasp your hands at his belt. He sets the prepared arrangement aside and turns in your embrace.

"All done," he says wickedly, palming your face with his wet hands. You jump back with a squeal, pelting a dish rag at this chest.

"Use a towel, you slob!"

He chuckles and wipes his hands on his shirt, tossing the towel over his shoulder and leering at you like he's starved.

"Come here," he mumbles. You go a little shy under his gaze, dropping your head and shuffling towards his presence. He catches you by the hips, dipping down to catch your mouth in a prying kiss. You grin against him and he groans, tugging you tight against his body.

"Always love how soft you are, baby. Surprises me every time." He shakes his wild mane and purses his lips for you to kiss this time.

"Where d'you want the flowers?" he says.

"Bedroom?"

His eyes light up involuntarily, and he grabs the vase, bounding off towards your room gleefully. You jog to catch up with him, and when you enter the threshold, he's expertly positioning the vase next to a stack of books on your dresser.

"Much cleaner than mine," he says, gesturing around the room, "You keep it nice in here."

You shrug. "Could be cleaner."

"You can never see mine," he teases, knowing full well you already have. He slings his arms low on your hips, adoring you in the blue light of dusk. "Can I undress you?"

You bow your head and whisper, "teddy..."

"Not like that. Just wanna hold you."

You kiss his slanted mouth sweetly, nodding.

He reaches for the edge of your soft cotton dress, pulling it up and over your head. He whistles low upon seeing your undergarments, whipping his shirt off and onto the floor somwhere. You giggle, helping him with his belt buckle. He traces your temple with his lips leaving kisses along the way. He steps out of his jeans and lets you lead him around the bed.

His curls sprawl out against your pillows, and he welcomes you into his side with a lazy smile. Your reach to touch his waist and softly feel over the scar below his ribs.

"Little tender, bug," he hisses. You bat your eyes up at him scared, pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, please," he whispers, cradling your wrist, his eyes locked with yours. He draws the hair away from your neck, replacing it with his fingers to dance down along your spine. You’re warmer than he’s ever felt before and thankful for it. His hands are cold, but he doesn’t have to worry about it for very long when you bring each fingertip to your lips for a kiss.

“You’re my girl, alright? Always,” he whispers and you nod, “always.”

masterlist

[rationaliity]

mine now | gallagher x f! reader ( 18 + )

ill be so real with you my dearest freaky anon i'm not the biggest fan of cheating so plspls understand that if this kinda sucks,,, im sorry, especially since you were waiting for so long for this and then i drop the most lukewarm fic of all time. i also had to change the story around so that it was something that i was comfortable writing, sorry about that ! still the basic premise, i just am not good with ntr for some reason ?? weird. who knows man. tags : drug abuse ! dubcon, dirty talking, weed & alcohol mention, female anatomy reader but its sort of nonspecific idk, pw/op, voyeurism sorta, exhibitionism sorta, coercion almost, mentions of infidelity, comfort turns into sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex, gallagher uses petnames a lot, reader being drunk & high at the same time, reader gets on call with her ex boyfriend while gallagher fucks them words: 1.8k

gallagher's hand was in your hair, your head pulled back as he pounded you so hard into the mattress it made your hip hurt a little bit from the pressure, not that it was really what you were focused on. he'd promised to make you forget your shitty ex boyfriend who'd cheated on you, and you had agreed on that without a second thought. it was originally just a drink that the two of you shared together, with you ranting about this loser to gallagher, who was all too patient with you.

one drink turned into three, and drinks turned into smoking together. being crossfaded and half focused, those little rants went on about everything that had pissed you off about that loser since the moment the relationship started to decay. everything from how he refused to flush the toilet no matter how many times you reminded him, to how tiny his dick was. gallagher had laughed at your jokes about him, and it spurred you on to keep going, laughing about that loser's tiny shrimp dick. gallagher asked if you'd ever had a dick bigger than two inches, and you shook your head. you had no idea what sex was really supposed to feel like aside from what you knew.

then he asked if you were willing to see what it was like, and you swore you'd never felt more sober than that moment right then as you hesitantly nodded. was it still going to hurt if you weren't a virgin anymore ? the answer, surprisingly, was a resounding yes ! you learned that pretty quickly as gallagher's hips pistoned into yours, his free hand grabbing the fat of your ass, his body pressed against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

" don't be shy, baby, you can let your makeup ruin my sheets. it's been ruining my shirt all night now, " he purred in your ear, his sharp canines daring to bite into the sensitive skin of your neck completely without warning. when he finally did, you made a pathetic little mewl that you weren't even aware that you could make. " a little reminder of who can fuck you better than that fuckin' pathetic loser, yeah ? gonna go to work tomorrow n show off your mark for everyone to see, yeah ? "

possessiveness was driving him, only amplified tenfold by the weed in his system. it made you both feel everything so much deeper, so both in tune with your bodies and completely disorientated at the exact same time. you couldn't feel your toes anymore, and you weren't even sure you had a tongue in your mouth you were so far gone, but you could feel every deep stroke inside of you as he thrust, and the feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

you were a disaster. you knew you should be somewhere else. it was in three the morning, you were three drinks and several shots deep, and with enough weed in your system to kill a victorian child before they could even understand what was happening to them. but you had no idea that you needed this so much, needed to feel him so deep inside of you that it brought you to tears, stretching you so well that you thought there was no way it was going to fit. and yet his cock buried itself completely inside you each time, his tip hitting against your walls in that special spot that made you cry out.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and by god you wanted to moan so loud that your neighbors could hear you. and maybe you were doing all of those things, at this point you weren't entirely sure what you were doing, other than taking his cock. gallagher was like an animal, desperate to claim every inch of you, and you were so willing to give him everything that he desired without any amount of a fight.

you heard a noise in the background, but you honestly didn't think much of it at that point. it was so unimportant, you didn't really care what it was, although you recognized the sound. " baby, your phone is ringin', you wanna answer it, or should i ? "

you made a pitiful little noise, and he took that as a perfectly valid answer, grabbing your phone and sliding it up for you. " hey, yeah ? oh, man. " you couldn't hear what was going on on the other side of the phone, but you could hear gallagher chuckle, and you swore he started to fuck you even harder now, the lewd noises of your skin slapping together undoubtedly able to be heard through the phone. " yeah, sorry you're a fuckin' loser, but they've got some new dick. thank you for keepin' them so fuckin' tight f'me. "

you don't know why your ex hadn't hung up the phone yet, but also on the other hand it made complete sense. if he had a way to argue, he was going to argue, even when all of the odds were against him, and the answer was blaring at him straight in his face. you buried your face in the pillow, trying not to make so much noise, but finding it impossible with the way gallagher was thrusting inside of you like he owned your body. and maybe he did, who knows at this point ? you just knew that you'd never felt this good, not with yourself, or any other partner.

" you wanna talk to them ? oh, man, be my fuckin' guest. i just hope you know you ain't gonna like what you hear. "

without a warning, the phone was pushed against your ear, letting you speak and say whatever you wanted to, but you couldn't find the words to say anything to him in between the moans spilling from your lips. " i-i- hh- fuck- " you whimpered, trying to think of something to say, but your mind was completely blank and filled with so many thoughts at the exact same time. there was only a brief moment of time where there wasn't anything coming from the other line, your ex so stunned that he couldn't find anything to say, but then came the barrage of insults, ones that would make you cry if you weren't being fucked so well by a man like gallagher, who was able to take your mind off of a pathetic man like your ex.

" put him on speaker, doll. let him hear you cummin' your brains out on my cock if he's so inclined. shit, i'll send him a video if he wants. whatever gets him to understand that you aren't his anymore, " gallagher growled behind you, one of his hands coming to snake around your waist, rubbing the sensitive nub between your legs with his thick, calloused thumb. you could only nod in response, sitting your phone down and turning it on speaker. you wanted him to feel horrible about everything he did to you, and you were hoping this was exactly the revenge you needed to finally get over him.

with the phone out of your hands, it was like it was entirely forgotten, especially with his finger rubbing your clit in tiny little circles. everything was building up to feel so strong inside of you, you had no idea what was happening. was it the drugs in your system making your body act up like this ? you had no idea, completely unsure what was going on. you felt this feeling in your tummy tightening as gallagher fucked you senseless, exactly like how he had promised to.

" ga-gallagher- " you whimpered out, your breath hitching in your throat. even in your fucked out state, you still managed to say something coherent, and of course it was his name. that thought only brought a satisfied grin to his face, and the older man couldn't stop himself from responding, clearly putting on a show for the person on the other end of the phone.

" what is it, my sweet ? gonna cum ? ya gonna cum on my cock like this 'nd forget all about him ? you take me so well, it's like you were made for a big, fat cock to stretch you out 'nd rearrange ya. " he was going so hard he needed to grab the headboard, his nails digging into the wood so hard that he wasn't sure if it would splinter or not, not that it even mattered. a little blood wasn't going to hurt him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him stop fucking your divine body into the perfect little cocksleeve for him. " is this your first orgasm on a cock ? you don't even know what's happenin' to ya, that's fuckin' adorable. you aint got no idea why you feel all tight down there, huh ? "

all you could do was nod helplessly against him, drooling onto the fabric of the bedsheets that was so soaked from your slick just dripping down your legs and pooling underneath you. " gonna- gonna cum, gonna cum, gallagher- pl-please- " you didn't know why you were saying please, you knew he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had a point to make of giving you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life.

" cum then, sweetie. i'll ride you through it. i'm gonna cum in this little hole of yours, okay ? you okay with that ? " you didn't give him a verbal response, just a nod of your head, but he couldn't stop himself from gently slapping your clit, making you cry out in pain, the sharpness of the sensation leaving you breathless. " say it, doll. say you want me to cum inside. you can do it, baby. "

" please- cuh-cum inside of me, gallagher- " you begged, earning you a tentative kiss on the side of your neck where he had bitten you earlier, and his finger started to rub circles around your sore clit again, perfectly timed just to make you cum.

" we're gonna cum together, okay ? let go, baby. i'm right here wi-with ya, " he couldn't stop himself from letting out a low groan, letting go of the headboard to grab your hip, dragging you on his cock as he fucked himself on you, chasing your orgasms together. with a low, animalistic growl, gallagher let go inside of you, shooting hot ropes inside of your walls as you clenched helplessly around him, the duo orgasm making you feel like you were able to blank out at any second, but you were entirely aware of your situation. he rode out the sensations with you, slowing down into gentle thrusts as he milked both of your orgasms at the same time.

when he pulled, gallagher laughed to himself, kissing the side of your neck and your nape several times as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours. " he hung up. guess we gotta call him back when we have a round two, yeah ? "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

[spctrsgf]

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit: 

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself. 

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.” 

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission. 

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report. 

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them. 

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot. 

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence. 

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories. 

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence. 

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before. 

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack. 

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?” 

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–” 

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels. 

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.” 

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–” 

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office. 

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways. 

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right– 

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware. 

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?” 

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk. 

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line. 

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.” 

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water. 

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-” 

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.” 

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all. 

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 22 of 30

2692 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Everyone else has already started their days by the time you can be bothered to crawl from your bed. You open your curtains to find the world has become a glistening white wonderland as snow continues to fall heavily from the sky.

The cold creeps into the house through the window panes, the old joints not capable of handling the severe weather change. You rush to shut the heavy curtains again to keep the chill at bay, even with your fox DNA the cold easily found a home in your bones making you shiver even at the thought of going outside. 

You pull on a hoodie that one of the boys must've left behind (Jungkook based on the smell) and shuffle from the room in search of a warm drink to banish away the winter. 

You find Yoongi sitting in front of the patio door with a blanket around his shoulders and a coffee in his hands watching the snowfall. He looks remarkably cosy for a breed that should despise the cold. You help yourself to a steaming cup of whatever he has made in the teapot and grab a pillow. 

You drop the pillow next to him with a thump, startling him, and make yourself comfortable beside him. He recovers quickly and slides half of his blankets over your shoulders before you have a chance to freeze. 

"Good morning," He mumbles groggily into his mug.

"Morning,"

"Did you sleep okay? There can't have been much room with all of you on that futon."

"My necks a bit sore but not too bad." You shrug.

He nods in understanding and turns his attention back to the snow. He watches it with such wonder that you can't help studying his features. His canines poke through his half smile as his eyes go wide each time a particularly big snowflake comes towards the window. 

It takes him a moment to realise you are watching him instead of the view. When he does his ears turn red and his nose buries deep inside of his mug, suddenly very shy, it's an endearing side to him you aren't sure you've seen before. 

"I'm only sitting here while I think about whether it's worth running to the studio in this weather." He states as if he needs an explanation. 

"And? Have you decided?"

"I think it'll be too cold, I'm not good at cold. But I really wanted to work on some stuff while Hobi is at his karaoke job today, to surprise him."

"Ah so that's where he is, i thought it was quiet." You joke, nudging against Yoongi's shoulder.

He chuckles and nudges you back.

"Yeah everyone is out. Jimin took Tae to the shelter, and I believe Namjoon took Jungkookie to Jin's place for a lunch date."

"So it's just us then?".

He nods in confirmation. 

"Then maybe we should do something just the two of us?" You suggest.

"As long as it's inside." He agrees, glancing at the snow with trepidation more than wonder this time. 

You settle on baking, finding the correct ingredients to make cookies. You cream the butter and sugar as Yoongi searches through the drawers for cookie cutters for you to use. He comes back with a selection of odd animal shapes and hands four to you, keeping four to himself. He brushes up against your back as he moves through the kitchen causing you to lose focus as you pour the flour in, creating a cloud of white powder to spurt up to your face. 

You wipe at the flour on your nose, crossing your eyes to try and see where needs to be wiped. Yoongi can't help himself as he giggles before reaching out to help you remove the mess. He uses a damp dish towel to get as much flour as he can. He hovers an inch from your face and studies your features closely. The temptation proves a little too much as you tip forward and peck the tip of his nose, earning yourself another endearing chuckle. 

He leans back and kisses your nose in return, then your cheeks, and then your forehead, and just when you think he is going to kiss you properly he shuffles away. He directs his attention back to looking for a rolling pin and you go back to kneading the dough together. 

Just as you push the dough flat onto the countertop, his arms circle around your waist, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

"Is this okay?" He asks, snuggling in.

"Sure." You nod.

His hands disappear from your waist, but his back stays pressed against yours as he brings the rolling pin around. You take it from him and begin to roll out the dough. His hands cover yours and you awkwardly begin to roll out the dough together.

Some parts end up being much thicker than others as you roll unevenly together, but neither of you wants to let go of the other's hands, so you settle for it until you are ready to cut the shapes.

You place each character carefully and Yoongi presses down, cutting them out and transferring each adorable shape onto a baking sheet. 

Once the cookies are in the oven, you notice Yoongi staring down at his slippers.

You watch him curiously as his feet shuffle back and forth awkwardly. It reminded you a lot of the coming-of-age movies where a boy was about to ask his crush to prom. It was so opposite to what you had come to expect from Yoongi, the usually outgoing and more forward member of the group.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, moving closer to him. 

"Yeah, I just know that everyone has been a bit full-on with you lately, I don't want you to be overwhelmed." he shrugs.

"Is that all?" You ask, dubious. 

"No... I mean it's a lot of it. I don't want to scare you away and have you suggesting you move out again... But I also have never been the best at being the pursuer... I've always been pursued, the only time I'm ever really really forward is when I'm being more of a wingman, like when I dragged Jimin to live here or took you out to tell you about the others and I just..." he looks as if he might ramble on for some time if you don't interject.

"Would it make you feel better if I pursued you?" you say, feeling suddenly bold. 

He looks up at you properly, a little shocked at the suggestion. You take that opportunity to close the gap between the two of you. You kiss him gently, not exactly comfortable with being an instigator yourself. 

His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him. He backs you into the counter, grinding himself against you as he tries to find a way to get closer to you, naturally deepening the kiss as he presses forward. 

Eventually, he breaks the kiss to breathe, leaning his forehead against yours. His smile is all teeth as he pants softly trying to get his breath back. 

"Your lips are so soft," He comments, before diving back into peck your lips again.

He litters little kisses on your mouth, revelling in the feeling of you against him. 

"I've never kissed a girl before... I was really missing out." 

He dips in for another deep kiss, this time his hands begin to roam feeling over your curves as they explore. He pushes up Jungkook's hoodie and digs his fingers into your bare skin. Just as it feels he is about to take his touching a step further, the front door slams open.

Namjoon looks murderous as he carries a clinging Jungkook over the threshold. You and Yoongi jump apart like naughty children caught with your hands in the cookie jar. 

"What happened babe? I thought you were only going to Jin's?" Yoongi asks, making his way over to the pair in the doorway.

The jackal takes the shaking rabbit into his arms, allowing Namjoon to shirk off his shoes and jacket. 

"That nosey little doctor, inserting himself into things that don't concern him." He huffs. 

Jungkook whimpers at Namjoon's loud voice and instant regret appears on Namjoon's face. He reaches out to pet the bunny's ears, but Jungkook just burrows further into Yoongi.

You take Namjoon's hand and lead him into the living room, forcing him to sit down and calm down. Yoongi follows behind sitting in the armchair with Jungkook curled on his lap. 

"How did Jin make you this mad?" You ask, perching on the edge of the sofa next to him.

"He had the audacity to tell me I didn't know what was best for Jungkook. He implied we were harming him somehow. I can't believe he would dare accuse us of not looking after our baby." The bear growls.

You and Yoongi share a look across the room, a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"Jin? He doesn't seem the judgemental type... How did that even get brought up in conversation." Yoongi asks.

Namjoon sighs dramatically and starts from the beginning

______________

They pulled into the doctor's apartment complex just after 11 a.m. Jungkook was bouncing his leg nervously at the prospect of going somewhere unfamiliar, but Namjoon had kept a reassuring hand on his leg the entire time, constantly reminding him that he would be happy to go home with him and have someone else drop him off later if that's what Jungkook needed. But the younger man refused, too set on seeing Jin again. 

After parking, Namjoon opened Jungkook's door and held his hand tightly, keeping him close all the way to Jin's front door. 

The doctor opened the door quickly with a wide smile on his face like he had been standing in the hall waiting for them to knock. He eyed how tightly the pair were holding hands but said nothing, moving out of the way to let them into his apartment.

Namjoon leans in and kisses Jin on the cheek as he walks past, causing the older man to blush and stutter a little.

"Make yourself at home in the living room," he said, gesturing to a door on the left. "Can I get you both a drink?"

"We will just take water please Jin." Namjoon answers for both of them. 

He leads Jungkook into the living room and sits down, Jungkook just naturally falling into his lap. 

Jin comes back with two glasses, handing them over and then making himself comfortable in an overstuffed armchair.

"I'm so glad you could both make it." He grinned "Lunch is in the oven, should be about 20 more minutes." 

"It smells delicious," Namjoon said, and Jungkook nodded in agreement.

"How are you Jungkook? it feels like forever since I've seen you," Jin asks. 

Jungkook shuffled uncomfortably on Namjoon's lap, not yet accustomed enough to the environment to come out of his shell. His want to speak to Jin not able to overcome his anxiety.  He shrugs and hopes it's enough of an answer but Jin just frowned, making Jungkook feel bad that he couldn't make himself speak.

"Is it always like this when you go somewhere new?" The doctor asked, aiming this question more at Namjoon.

"It can be yeah. You've seen him have a panic attack before." Namjoon replied, trying to sweep the topic away. " We should talk more about you though, he will calm down soon. How has work been?" Namjoon petted Jungkook's back as he leaned in to give Jin more attention. 

"Have you ever thought about therapy for Jungkook? or for all of you maybe? Like a family thing? I have a few friends in the field I could get in touch with for you." Jin suggested not letting it drop. 

"He is recovering fine, he is much better now than when we met him a year ago, we don't need the outside help"  Namjoon responded, his voice turning sharp.

Jungkook whined in protest at the shift in Namjoon's behaviour. He didn't want them to fight, especially with him in the middle.

"I didn't mean anything by it Joon." Jin said putting his hands up in surrender. "I just think it'd be good for all of you." 

"And I think you should mind your business." Namjoon retorted.

"I only want to help, I can't help it if I care about you all," Jin defended himself.

"We didn't ask for your help." 

Namjoon pushed Jungkook up and took his hand pulling him to the front door. 

"I think maybe we should do this another day," Namjoons said icily.

"Come on Joon, I really didn't mean anything by it," Jin called after him.

Namjoon either didn't hear him or pretended not to.

"I need to get Jungkook home. We can talk about this later." Namjoon huffed as he exited the apartment. 

_______________________________

"So a doctor showed some concern for Jungkook's condition and you freaked out?" You ask.

Yoongi and Namjoon shoot you venomous glares and you put your hands up.

"Look all I'm saying is Jungkook's situation is... a little concerning, especially as an outsider. I really don't think Jin meant anything by it." You explain.

Namjoon sighs in defeat like he knows you are right, but he isn't willing to admit it. Before either predator gets a chance to say their piece Jungkook perks up from Yoongi's lap and reaches out for you. 

You hold out your arms in a similar fashion and he unfolds from Yoongi's lap to find his way to you, but instead of sitting down in your lap like you expected him to, he pulls you up to him. 

He takes you by the hand a drags you into his bedroom. 

It's the first time he has allowed you into his own space. The walls are covered in posters of different movies he enjoys and there are collectables and action figures littering the shelves. The bed is hung from the ceiling with small sides built up around the edges to prevent the mountain of blankets from spilling out in the night. 

"How do you even fit everyone in this bed with that many blankets?" you ask, but he doesn't respond.

He fireman lifts you over his shoulder making you squeal and then drops you into the centre of his nest, positioning you like you're a part of it. The bed sways as he clambers in. Once his nose is buried in the crook of your neck he finally speaks.

"I wanted to stay at Jin's." He whispers.

"You'll get another chance when Namjoon calms down." You comfort him, drawing circles onto his back.

"I wanted to talk to him, but the words wouldn't come out."

"It's okay, new places are creepy. It'll be okay after another visit or two."

"I want to be better all the time." He whimpers, on the edge of tears.

"Then we can talk about ways to help you when tempers are a little less high." 

You kiss him on the forehead and prepare for him to take another nap on you, but he surprises you. Instead, he rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed. He holds your wrists out to the sides and leans down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is a little salty from where tears had tracked down his face, but sweet nonetheless. He is more eager than the others, his main desire is to please you more than himself.

You chase his mouth as he pulls up, but the way his hands are holding you down makes it difficult to catch him. He giggles at your attempt, his head dipping in and out of your reach as you try to capture his lips again. He laughs hard as he teases you, enjoying it a little too much. Eventually, he slips up, accidentally sending himself off balance and allowing you to roll on top of him instead.

You straddle his hips and his hands land on your thighs. You contemplate teasing him in the same way but find yourself becoming too impatient. Instead, you bend down and kiss him deeply.

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn't have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you're feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn't have to be BTS

AN: How mad do you think Tae is going to be when he figures out he is the last kiss? Not including Jin of course... although I could be that mean...

[blackmaylovesfries]

Vocal team - Campfire

Words: 1072

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - With your body getting better, some hybrids decided to take you to decompress and enjoy a warm starry night.

Notices: Not so good English, I have never broken a bone, so sorry for the inaccuracy…

Solo stories’ destiny

Masterpost

Previous / Next

You were finishing some stretching exercise the doctors had given you that helped with pain and allowed you to sit better when Jeonghan and Seungkwan popped by your side.

“Can I help you guys?” You smiled. The two of them were especially careful around you in those two months that passed in the temporary house you were in.

“Yeah, Y/n, you actually can.” Jeonghan nodded and returned your smile. He and Seungkwan held your hands from each side. “We prepared a surprise for you. Do you think you are able to go with us to the deck?” The room you’re staying has an access to the deck of the house, this was decided so the human doctors could have easier access to you without startling the hybrids.

“Sure, oppa, I think I can. Help me out, you two.” Your smile just grew bigger as the hybrids practically carried you to the wooden deck. They cracked jokes and were mindful of any discomfort you could feel during the 5 minute walk you three had to accomplish. You then were sat in a padded chair that was part of a circle of other five chairs with a campfire still off in the center.

“What are you guys up to here?” You asked.

“Wait here for a minute, Y/n. Don’t move, okay?” Seungkwan dropped a fuzzy blanket on you before he and the older one turned and disappeared inside the house. You sighed and let a little giggle out. Looking around, the small backyard was still strange to you… You started to feel melancholic missing your own home when noise came from behind you.

There were Jihoon leading Seungkwan, Dokyeom and Jeonghan. The four had food, drinks and other fun camping accessories in their arms and had big smiles on their faces. It was normal to see this combination of hybrids around, since they had similar hobbies and energy most of the time…

“Now we can finally start our campfire!” Seokmin was clearly excited. You and the others laughed while the hybrids distributed the food and the drinks. Jihoon and Jeonghan started to try to light the fire while the younger ones sat beside you. “Do you like our surprise, Y/n?”

“We wanted to relax a little and wanted to spend some calm time with you… The last few months are a little chaotic for all of us.” Seungkwan explained. Your smile failed a little.

“Thank you, guys.” You sighed before coming back to a happier mood. “We all needed this, it’s a really nice idea.” You patted both of their heads with care and the canine hybrids cuddled you a little before the others called for their help.

---

“And the hybrid discovers fire!” Jihoon couldn’t help himself and screamed when they were capable of lighting up the fire… After an hour or so of trying.

All five of you laughed out loud, finding the situation ridiculous but still funny. Finally, the boys were able to sit with you and the group just spended a moment looking at the flames and enjoying the warmth and the silence of the night. Seokmin was starting to move and find something to play with when there was a noise inside your room and a voice shouted from there:

“You guys are doing things without me again! That’s not fair!” You all turned to the glass door and saw Joshua coming in your direction with a guitar in one of his hands. You opened a yellow smile while the others died from laughing.

“We did warn you that we would be starting, hyung!” Seungkwan got up to help the older cat hybrid, who was already gasping for air. “You were the one who decided to go search for the guitar Mark-hyung gave us.” He started to nag as he helped Shua to a chair and draped a blanket on his back.

“Well, I think it was a great idea.” You defended the Snowshoe cat hybrid. “And you arrived at the right time, Josh, we just got the fire going.” He smiled at you before robbing the occasion maknae of his just opened snacks.

“Yeah! What is a campfire without some songs?” He pouted a bit before starting to eat. All the boys went back to laugh and your night officially started. Everyone of you six were enjoying the vibe, telling jokes and sharing lighthearted experiences.

Jeonghan and Joshua shared about the gossipy aunts that took care of them. Seungkwan shared about the best hot cocoa his first owner made him on a cold day. Jihoon told everyone about pretending to be a nocturnal monster to scare new trainers. And Dokyeom told about the sunny days with his family he could remember.

You did some sharing too but being careful to not mention much about the hybrids your parents helped… Your boys didn’t like them much. As the night went by and you all got cozier and more emotional, Shua took the guitar out.

“Sunday morning, rain is falling...” He started the newest song he had heard with his beautiful and delicate voice before being interrupted.

“No!” “Stop!” “Enough of that!” The other boys drowned his singing, getting a giggle out of you. Seungkwan got up, passed Shua’s guitar to Jihoon and sat again. “Now, let’s sing something we are not all tired of hearing already.”

“I just learned that last week!” Poor Jisoo complained. This time, not even you came to his defense. Since Jackson showed them Youtube, the boys developed very specific tastes in music and videos to watch… Joshua had been constantly listening to that song. Everyone, including Josh, laughed and then started to sing sweet funny songs.

The vibe was warm and you haven’t felt this relaxed and in peace for a long time after the attack. The younger boys started to fall asleep on their chairs while the older ones started to go deeper in some experiences into some healthy(?) trauma bonding. You were just enjoying the talk, giving some input here and there.

At some point, you stared at the stars far into the night sky. Your eyes started to close, you had to fight to keep actively listening to the conversation around you. The warmth and your body finally out of the alert state made your fight a lost one… Right before you were completely in Morpheus’ arms, you heard:

“Sweet dreams, Y/n. We’ll look out for any nightmares.”

Previous / Next

Hello everyone! How are you?? <3

Tags: @mimisxs​​​​ ; @moonmin-miya​​​​ ; @naminalati​​​​ ; @woohoney​​​​ ; @patriciaar ; @amber-thumbs​​​​ ; @skylions-den​​​​ ; @snowballbear​​​​ ; @restless-nights-thoughts​​​​ ; @haoareu ; @killcomet​​​​ ; @unravellyn ; @honeyylin​​​​ ; @blizzardfluffykpop​​​​ ; @luminaaz​​​​ ; @m00njhn  ; @cuzyourmyflower​​ ; @calixxreads​​​ ; @hosh1kwon​​​ ; @minhui896​​​ ;  @lol6sposts​  - If you want to be tagged, answer the first link at the beggining of this post.

[deldeldel90]

the half-puppy Lance au ... With Blaine, who's a few years older than Lance himself, and Isolde, who'll do anything to hide it from Leland. Blaine holds his baby brother, in his arms, firm enough so he won't drop and where he can't feel Blaine's trembling fingers---his hair is fluffy, cut croppy and short, his tanned skin is warm and sunny. He has canine-sharp teeth, floppy dog ears, a fluffy tail. He is so small in Blaine's arms.

He's taken away quickly enough. Father doesn't permit discussion of their dead child. Mother is silent. Blaine doesn't talk about him, doesn't look for him---and then, after some time, he convinces himself that it was all a childhood dream. An imaginary friend. He grew up.

But that child was growing up, too. Six years younger than him, he's alive. Although not as much as their husbands, Queens do have some power. Especially when it concerns a matter the king's servants are especially loyal about.

Prince Lance is alive.

Isolde is the one hiding him, at first, not sure if she was cursed or if animal parts just run rarely in her family. She places hoods over his head and, with how much Leland travels and leaves them, it's easy to keep it. to isolate baby Lance, keeping him confined to his bedroom and to a select few maids shed trusted with her own life.

But Lance isn't a quiet child. He kicks and he whines and he finds bursts of energy that can't be pushed down. He's a sociable one, one with bouncy feets and a wagging tail. He wants to talk to people. He wants to laugh, and the jokes in his picture books have gotten a little stale. He needs people, and he's rarely ever seen outside his room. The cellar, the hidden basement, is painted a light blue. He imagines that's the color of the sky.

Lance is five, and he is so, so, so bored. Like, really bored. There's only so many times he can talk out loud to himself and pretend he's having a real, actual conversation.

So... For once, he sneaks out. He's five but he's watched his mama--mama wolf, he thinks of her--open the lock multiple times, after visiting him. Tucking him into bed most nights. He finds his way out of the basement, racing up the stairs and pounding each floor with his socks. His ear twitches in curiosity as he travels the lands he's never seen.

A part of him is scared, so scared. He doesn't know where he is and what Mama'll think if she finds out. He smells a polish of some kind, and then-- a familiar scent. He's drawn to it immediately.

(After all, a dog never forgets their pack.)

He opens the door, perched on his heels, twisting the knob.

He finds a lonely eleven-year-old boy. He's playing pretty songs on this glossy-black thing he doesn't know the name of.

Lance, brave as ever, walks up to him and then, suddenly, he plops down onto the floor and watches as the boy startles. "Who- who- who are you?!" He gasps.

Despite how much he wants to be, he's not very good at actual conversation. Sure, he's talked to himself plenty, those out loud ramblings as he played with himself, but the only communication he had was with the nice ladies who came to him, the butler who taught him not to chew with his mouth open, and his mama.

...This is his brother.

Family.

Pack.

Lance jumps onto the long, wooden stool his brother was sitting on and curls up into his chest. Brother, he can tell, his nose twitching. His tail snaps back and forth uncontrollably. Brother, brother- Blaine.

His brother pulls back at him, like he's trying to push Lance off, which is really mean, and then, he utterly freezes.

"...Lance," he starts.

Lance nods enthusiastically. Yeah!!, it's me, bro!! He nearly says. "Lance," he says. But Blaine still looks at him weirdly.

He hugs Lance, though. That's what matters. Deep, fundamental love settles in Lance's heart, it's loyal and absolutely consuming, the kind he feels for his mama and all the people who take care of him. All his stuffed animals he's taken as friends.

(he's never asked them If they think he's cool. He hopes so.)

After a while, Blaine releases him. Lance is met with immediate yearning to be back in his brother's hug, back with his family. But he's let go. "Go back," Blaine commands, his voice sounds like it's coming from a raw, torn throat.

His brother doesn't look like he knows it's Lance. His eyes look confused.

A pout tugs at Lance's lips. He follows his brother's orders, though. It feels right to.

The next day, neither Blaine nor Mama came to see him. And then-- there's this pain he feels. His heart hurts.

Missy June gives him his waffles and, with a wary, scolding glance to him, she ruffles his hair as she says, "you've caused a lot of trouble, Mister."

"Mama...?" He questions, feeling guilt swirl his heart. he doesn't understand it, but he knows he's done bad.

she confirms clippy, "and the crown prince."

"I'm sorry," he says, something lodged in his throat. He cuts up his waffles with the red-plastic butter knife. The butter'd already spread in the square crevices. But Missy June can't accept it. She's not Mama.

The next hour is bad. Really, really bad.

Lance senses an argument between the two people he cares most about. He whines into his pillow, sad eyes going big and glassy. He paws at one of his many plushies, drawing it closer to him.

Then, there's a lightness that spreads within him, a pounding in his heart. He doesn't know what, but he knows it's something.

There's a knock. The door opens without a key.

"We'll have to get that replaced," he hears a woman's voice say.

It's open.

His brother enters, determination glowing in his red eyes. His Mama's right behind him. They're both not smiling- their faces are too tight and too focused- but Lance is.

Lance is grinning, and his tail is wagging so so much.

[beast-towers]

Meanwhile…

Once the teens had their rest, they quickly set off. Eleanor guiding the brothers and Ein through the metal halls, looking at the map as she pointed out: “Next stop, the… Eh? Am I looking at this right?…” She looked back to made sure to read what she was reading, causing one of the brothers to peak over her shoulder.

“Yep, Tickler.” Tobias said, making Eleanor very confused about this..

“Why that one? Isn’t that a bit too… well… invading personal space?” She shivered as she puts the map away. “I am uncomfortable if they try anything like that…”

“We can understand that Ellie. But if I remember, it aims to tickle ya until you smile. I swear to what ever god out there if they do that… wait-” Thomas had the realization as a small chuckle escaped. “Ha! Jokes on them, me and Toby are freaking bricks!”

“Oh yeah! I remember Abuela tried to playfully tickle us when we were six years old. To this day I can still feel that sadness.” Toby felt sad for his grandmother from that day. Yet happy memories did surfaced when his and Tom’s father was with them, how they had such a wonderful time… until…

Toby quickly snapped out of it as he felt Ein nuzzling his leg. “Hey, I’m good. Thanks for checking up on me bud! Ellie, is Ein always like this?”

“No, usually he’ll be on my side so people won’t distract him. I guess when we were taken, he’s been on guard.” She spoke, seeing Ein then walk up to Thomas. Who stopped and softly pinched the Shiba’s cheeks.

“I forgot how squishy and stretchy ya guys are!~ ¡Oh, es tan lindo!” Cooed Thomas, while Ein is being very patient and allowed Thomas to stretch his face. “Good doggy!~ Okay… Ellie, how far are we?” He looked up and saw it. Tickler section. Feeling a bit of fear for what they’re getting into.

“Round 2…. But this time, we can fight. Let’s roll.” Thomas spoke, as the four entered the next section. It wasn’t long enough before they heard machines humming and more developing advocates laughing. “Uuuggghh… I hate this already…” Thomas shivered with unease.

“Same here bro…” Toby took a look into the cells, and yelped in shock as a woman crashed herself on the door. “GAAHH!!”

“You! Dog! You are a real dog, yes?!” She spoke, looking in a mix of herself and Marmalized. “Who is the owner of this Guardian?!”

“M-Me?….” Eleanor nervously spoke, causing Ein to get in front of her to protect Eleanor. “I’m his owner… He is my service and guard dog… are… are you-”

“I don’t have time! Neither do you four! Please take this! Hound, protect those who cannot protect themselves! Honor, Duty, Loyalty, Wisdom, Knowledge, Faith, Justice, and Brotherhood will forever be your weapons…” She dropped a beaded necklace outside of her prison, Eleanor quickly grabbing it and held onto it. “I’ve made sure to hold onto this family treasure. A heirloom! I and my family helped raised hounds to become Canine Warriors… Your Hound will fight until his time is up…. Now go! Run! They are coming!”

The group were confused, but on high alert now… and rightfully so, as Ein growled angrily and protectively as two MOJ guards appeared.

“Oh? Hey! Aren’t those the trouble makers? We didn’t expect all of you to be here! Please come along with us nicely!~” One happily spoke, causing the teens to back away from the two. While both Tom and Toby had their instruments out and ready.

“Oh don’t be scared!~ We won’t hurt any of you… Well… May be the Ministry’s Top bests in Marmalisation, but they won’t hurt you!~” the two began to walked forward, but noticed Ein. Now in front of the group as he delivered barks… but for the two guards, they’ve completely melted with Joy.

“AWW!!~ So! So! SO Cute!~ Hey there little guy! Oh my goodness!!~ I didn’t know a cute puppy was here!! Oh I hope you stay here to help make the world a happy place!”

“Look at his adorable face! Such a sweetheart! I must pinch those flexible cheeks!!~” Said the second Guard as he happily pinched Ein’s squishy cheeks.

The three and Woman were very dumbfounded, but Ein took this as an advantage and allowed the two men to touch him. He honestly hated it, but this was the teens’ chance. Toby and Tom noticed what Ein was doing as they whacked the two men on their heads, knocking them out cold.

“Huh…. I’m surprised you four are very prepared for this…” the Woman spoke with astonishment by their teamwork. “Still, you cannot stay here. And make sure your guardian keeps those beads with him…”

“Not… Not really…” Eleanor then looked over to the woman. “You look very familiar…. Before we go, may I know your name?…”

“I….I-I sadly can’t remember…hehehe…. They gave me a new one… Jovial… 64% from being Marmalized… kids, you must keep going….” A part of her was ready to laugh, but held it in, not wanting to scare them.

“We can at least free you! You are not going to rot away here!” Thomas spoke, pickpocketing the guards to find their key cards and keys. “You can still have the will to resist them. Jo, or whoever you are, this is your chance to rebel against them.” Thomas unlocked the door and opened it, seeing inside… he felt great sadness and fear… the woman was covered in scars and some blood, it looked like she just escaped from her binds. Looking further in the room, a machine that almost looks like it could be part of a car wash… “Is this… how they do it?…”

“Yes… but please, go… I don’t want to bring you all more harm… make sure your hound wears those beads… please be safe….” Jovial softly spoke, she was so tired, sick, and mentally falling apart. Causing Thomas, Tobias, and Eleanor looked at each other wish sadness.

“The door will be open. Just know this: The only one who is in control, is you and you alone. No one has the right to erase who you are, you have to keep going. No matter how painful it’ll be, show them why you kept fighting… Show them who you really are.” Thomas spoke to Jovial with a determination and given her a kind smile. She herself didn’t look, but she felt the kindness radiating off from the young man. “Please reconsider it. And thank you for giving Ein a gift. We will remember you.”

The group left to keep going, despite the horrors they’ll face… they had to march on to get their parents back. This made Jovial think deeply about her new choice… leave or stay. As she now looked at the wide open door…

To be continued…

[xoxopuffsz]

SHOWER JJBA HEADCANNONS 😼

‼️: Minors dni fr 🤡

AN: Sorry for not posting you guys 💔 I love all yall but can yall fr give me requests GOD DAMN i’m so bored. BTW THIS IS FOR THE STARDUST CRUSADERS THEY R MY FAVORITES 🔛🔝 EXPECT JOSEPH CUZ ION FEEL COMFY 💀 Buttt I will make one with Iggy (which is platonic.) y/n is a female stand user helping them defeat Dio!!

Jotaro: Honestly he was kind of flustered when you asked him to help you shower, you WERE the only woman in the team. He’ll act pissed off like he always does with women but he secretly will 100% like it. He used nice smelling shampoo and will help you wash your hair. Might fuck you on the shower wall but yk yk~ “Damn you, you planned this all along did’t you Y/n?”

Kakyoin: Will get flustered. Like REALLY flustered. He’s gentle with you, he feels like he’ll break you somehow he’s really sweet. “You want.. me? To shower with you?” He asks as you nods. He will and again he’s gentle, he lets you wash his hair if you’d like a play with his curl or something. Might kiss you or make out but if your lucky enough maybe he’ll fuck you against those walls of that shower, in which a relaxing shower will turn steamy.

Avdol: “Shower with you? Are you sure?” He asks, quite the respectful man. “Mhm! I don’t mind, plus, I don’t like really being alone.” You lie, you just wanna see his cock. Will also be gentle, YOU LOVE HIS HAIR. Its. So. Soft!!! He’ll wash your body gently or maybe wash your hair, if you let him that is. May give you a kiss or two. Or maybe he’ll just let you make out with him but I see him as the calm one so.

Polnareff: This man I swear he’d be so fucking flirty, his eyes will roam everywhere and I mean EVERYWHERE. He loves to see your body wet (Which is concerning) or naked cuz’ thats the type of man he is. He’ll compliment you, joke around, trying to make the mood nice. HIS SHAMPOO SMELLS SO GOOD OML. It would be a french rose shampoo I dunno but it leaves your hair really soft!!

Iggy: “C’mon Iggy! Time for a bath.” You tell him, he runs after you. For a dog which is known as rabid or something, he’s very nice to you. You give off a good vibe, so he likes it. You give him coffee gum too so yeah. You probably go outside with a tank top and shorts as you walk over and wash behind Iggy’s ears, leaving him nice and clean. Maybe you were a dog or cat person, but it was still nice having a nice day outside with a canine teammate. Y’know what they say, dogs are mans best friend! Its just Iggy doesn’t believe in that for EVERYBODY hahaha~

[distant-velleity]

Skepticism

Summary: Jamil (probably) doesn't have any ulterior motives, but Jack is not so quick to trust that. Word count: 900+ A/N: I literally started writing this as soon as I got out of dance class today so do not expect it to be good 😭 I just thought it would be so funny if Jack judged Yu's taste in guys. He's always looking out for his friends and keeping an eye out for those who might be unsavory so, you know;; lol. Just wanted to write a little bit of silliness to make up for... everything I've posted in the past few days lol. Enjoy!

~

“There’s this friend of yours,” Jamil murmurs, eyes darting aside as he hands a plastic container to Yu. It seems this time he’s foregone the excuse that he happened to make extras the night before. “Jack, was it?”

(The container is nice and warm, and there’s faint sparkles that indicate it’s been enchanted to stay that way. How sweet.)

Yu tilts his head. “What about Jack?”

“He… I don’t mean to sound paranoid”—“Cute attempt, even if you kind of do”— “but he always seems to become excessively alert when I’m around you. Hostile, even.”

Even someone as unobservant as Yu can immediately recall what Jamil’s talking about—Jack isn’t very good at hiding his body language, so it’s easy to notice when he does subconscious things like raising his tail or stiffening his ears upwards. Or when his fur stands on end, making him look somehow sharper and dangerous. And—

“Oh yeah, didn’t he growl at you once when you clapped me on the shoulder?”

“What did he think I was going to do, punch you?” Jamil asks exasperatedly. “I can keep my hands relatively to myself.”

“But not your eyes,” Yu mutters. “If he knew about winter break, he’d probably kill you.”

Jamil grimaces.

“…that was a joke,” quickly adds Yu.

“If he keeps baring his canines at me, it won’t seem like one.” Jamil rubs his temples. “I’d ask what I’m doing wrong, but I know for a fact everything I do for you is harmless.”

Yu smiles, a little apologetically. “Well, sometimes he doesn’t notice his own behavior, but it’s because he cares so much.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel more reassured.” 

“Maybe you should spend more time around us. He’ll warm up to you.” At Jamil’s skeptical little eye roll, Yu continues with a growing smirk. “I mean, even if it looks like he doesn’t, it’s not like he’s gonna do anything to you if you don’t do anything crazy. He’s a biiig softie, it’s the only reason he hasn’t beaten Ace up yet.”

Jamil scoffs. “Soft or not, I’d rather be on decent terms with him so it’s easier for me to…” He trails off all of a sudden, leaving Yu to abruptly notice the heavy footsteps behind him.

“So it’s easier for you to do what?” asks Jack in his usual low, rumbling voice—with a distinct tone of warning. Although he towers over the both of them, Yu doesn’t feel threatened with how Jack stands right behind him; it feels like having a big guardian puppy around.

While Yu waves to his friend, Jamil says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “For me to be friends with Yu. I’m not sure what I’ve done to offend you, but I can tell you for certain that I don’t have any intentions to hurt him.” 

Maybe the way it sounds so smooth and practiced is more suspicious to Jack. “Uh-huh. You’d better be able to prove it with more than just words. Yu, can I have that container?”

“Yeah, just don’t toss it or anything. Jamil works diligently to prepare meals, you know.” When Jack nods reluctantly, Yu hands it over without complaint.

As the resident poison-tester, Jamil settles for a resigned look on his face as Jack sniffs for signs of unsavory magic or ingredients. 

The beastman seems satisfied after a solid half a minute of inspection, at least until— “Wait, haven’t you been eating stuff marked with the same magic for the past few weeks? Was it all from this guy?”

It’s comical how Jamil sputters. “So I’ve been reduced to ‘this guy’? And how come you only start sniffing it out once you know I gave it to Yu?”

“‘Cause I have no clue what your real intentions are,” Jack argues, ears pointing up with tension. “You used to fade into the background but all of a sudden you start getting buddy-buddy with Yu, of course I’m gonna think there’s something up with that—”

“Jack, it’s fine,” Yu interrupts. “Jamil can be a douche”—“Excuse you?”—“but he won’t try anything. You, well, you smelled it for yourself, he didn’t put anything in the food and I haven’t been acting weird since I started eating it.”

“Except for trusting him…”

Jamil gives them both a Look™. “Have I not been proving myself trustworthy?”

The way Jack narrows his eyes slightly at Jamil and vice versa feels like something straight out of a manga. Yu can practically see the black background effects of hostility. “You have, and that’s why I’m giving you a chance…” He trails off, seeing Jack’s fur stand on end. “Guys, this is getting ridiculous. You ever think there’s a reason why Crewel calls you ‘unruly pups’?”

“I’m not being unruly in the least,” Jamil says coolly, not disengaging from whatever the hell is going on.

“You’re not helping your case,” Jack grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring even more fiercely. 

Yu closes his eyes. “You guys, seriously—”

The ten-minute warning bell rings, and Yu has never been more grateful for a glorified “hurry the fuck up and get to first period” message. 

Jack backs down right away, mumbling something about not wanting to be late for Trein’s class. As soon as he’s out of earshot, all 190+ centimeters of him disappearing down the hallway, Jamil turns to Yu.

“So… what was that about him being a ‘softie’?”

Yu rolls his eyes. “You skeptic. I mean, me too, but—c’mon. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you someday.”

“...Uh-huh.” Jamil sounds unconvinced. “We’ll see how soon that day comes, then.”

[offorestsongs]

Hello Algy! ♡

For the flirty prompt ask game, how about "I can't stop thinking about you" with Swallow and Azul?

Thank you! ♡

hiiii Sheepy <33

thank you sm for the ask!! actually, Swallow is 100% the type who would say all of those horrible/cheesy pick up lines lmao (is he serious? is he joking? the world may never know!)

once again, i got a bit carried away lmao

(ask game here!)

"Excuse you but I have more important matters to tend to that-" Swallow grinned. "Yes, yes, you always do, I know. But I promise, I'm not gonna waste your precious time." For his part, Azul didn't look too convinced. "For some reason, I don't believe you."

"Oh, come on! I just want to walk you to the Hall of Mirrors." Swallow held up his hands. "No ulterior motives, I swear!" He leaned closer to Azul and offered the other boy his arm, like any true gentleman wanting to take the object of their affections on a walk would. "So? Don't leave me hanging like that. That would be cruel, even for you." Azul looked at Swallow's extended arm then back at his face ― wide smile exposing sharp canines, dark eyes glimmering with joy ― then back at his arm. His brows furrowed (cute!) and Swallow had to stop himself from reaching out to smooth them over, like he did many times with Riddle. That would surely scare Azul off, even if the look on his face would be priceless. It was fine. Baby steps. "You say you don't have any ulterior motives, but it's hard for me to believe that." Swallow rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, I maaaaay have lied. There's one thing I need to talk to you about." "Ah. I knew it. What is it, then?" "Take my arm and I'm gonna tell you~" For a split second, Azul looked like he was going to leave. Then he cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and with the look of absolute suffering on his face hooked his arms with Swallow's. Swallow preened. His tail happily swung in the air. "See, was it that hard?" He led them down the courtyard. Azul walked stiff, firmly avoiding Swallow's gaze and seemingly blind to Swallow's cheery aura. That was also fine. Azul just had a bit of a thick skull ― Swallow was sure he would get through it eventually. "Sooo... How was your day? Did anything fun? Any plans for the weekend, perhaps?" "I don't believe this is what you wished to discuss." "Yeah, it's not. But why do we have to get straight to business? C'mon. Let's chat a little!" Gently, Swallow swatted Azul's side with his tail. He didn't think it was possible for Azul to look away even more, but somehow, he did, turning his head to the side.

"I simply fail to see what you would get out of any of this. If this is a new way for you to torment me?" Swallow blinked. "What? No! I just want to get to know you better. Nothing's wrong with that, right?" "On technicality, no. I just don't understand why is that of interest to you." "Well, let's see..." Swallow started to count on his fingers. "You're cute and intelligent and funny when you aren't being insufferable and have pretty eyes and I can't stop thinking about you?" Azul sharply took his arm away. He took a step back. "It's cruel to joke like that." He kept avoiding Swallow's gaze, but his lips were pursed into a tight, pale line. "I'm- I'm not joking? Hey, I know we don't have the best track record but I would never..."

"No matter." Azul adjusted his glasses again. "What did you wish to discuss?" "Oh! Well! I know you're not really the sporty type but we've got a Spelldrive game on Friday and I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come and watch me. No jokes, no anything. I swear." Well, alright, maybe he did also plan on pulling Azul into a sort of-maybe-kind of a date afterwards, but Azul did not need to know that. Not now, at least. "I'm not going to be your personal cheerleader, Swallow." Swallow's ears dropped. "Why not? You can watch me make Leona mad again. It'll be so much fun!" "You're a fool," Azul said, but in Swallow was sure he could see just the smallest shadow of a smile dancing in the corners of his lips. "Has somebody already told you that?" "Well, yeah, but you can always tell me that again on Friday. Deal?"

[undercover-roomba]

(yes i wrote something about fir and antler because they are my skrunkle guys. yeah. also i thought that ferric looked similar to ant. so here we go.)

  The soft light dappled the forest floor as the fox trotted across the leaves. He ignored the screech of some various animal being snuffed out behind him. Maybe by that weird mouse. It seemed to like him. But whatever, he had a mission. He needed to find his friend, the bat. He never really knew where the little creature went, but they were closer than he’d like to admit. He had found the thing in the hellscape plain, trembling and developing heat stroke. It was even snappy back then.

  He sniffed. The notable stench of blood hit his nose, and he recoiled. But there was a.. familiar scent coming with it. He noticed the smell of those Fire corporals. He actually respected them. A canine and a flying creature? He could relate. They had actually had some meaningful conversations as well. Ranger respected him, at least a little. He heard wingbeats, and looked up. The damned bat was hanging off the tree, still righting themself.

  “Little fucker. Get down here, Fir.” The fox growled.

  The bat chuckled, then flitted down and perched on his shoulder. “Cheer up, Antler.”

  “You know I can smell the corpse. Who is it?” He went for the calm approach- his go-to. But he made sure to add a hint of aggression to get the point across.

  Fir hesitated, then went with “I can’t tell you directly. You’ll have to see.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Antler murmured, but entered the small area in which the scent of rot was strongest. 

  Instantly, he had to take a step back. The stench was coming from a horrifyingly familiar fox, clearly dead, organs ripped out and all. 

  “...Ferric?”

  The single word was uttered before Ant could stop himself. His calm demeanor melted away in the fearful panic beating through his heart and the little prickles through his skin. His cousin. His only relative in Defiance. 

  “Holy shit.” Fir let out a shocked little chuckle. “I didn’t.. I thought she would be less brutally killed than that, but it is the murder cult.”

  “Fir, this is no time for jokes. Please.” Antler’s voice was strained.

  “..I know. I’m really so sorry. I heard that she tried to desert.” Fir sounded resigned.

  “..Fir, you’re a good friend. I hope you know that. My closest friend, in fact. But I need to be left alone.” Antler gently shut Ferric’s eerie, blank eyes with a claw.

  “Okay.” And with the simple word, Fir flew away. It hesitated in the air, turning back to look at the fox, then flew off.

  Silence was in the clearing for a while. Antler was burying the body for what seemed like hours. As he finished the mound, he sat down. “...Ferric. I hope you find a soft place to rest.” Of course he didn’t say much. But he had to let her go somehow. He shook his head softly. “Goodbye.” And with that, he turned away.

  “What did you overhear?” He asked his companion softly.

  Fir chuckled. “From the combination of it? There’s a shit ton- well, not a shit ton, but a notable amount of cats living in that hellscape desert or whatever you call it. They somehow have been surviving, for a while.”

  “So what you’ve heard Rainhaze mumbling is true?” Antler responded, tilting his head.

  “Oh, yeah.” It chuckled, “Being small has its perks. I don’t think he even knew I was listening.”

  “Everyone should have a little bat buddy.” Ant commented, letting out a small laugh. “To spy on animals who shouldn’t be spied on. Like Deepdark. Or the corporals.”

  “Aw, fuck you. You keep me around for much more than that.” Fir flitted away, then returned soon after.

 “Did Ferric try to desert?” Antler asked suddenly, suddenly a bit more subdued. 

 “Yeah. I asked Hacksaw. She confirmed it, she did attempt deserting. She also said that she didn’t care that the body had been buried. Hacksaw’s honestly really fucking cool.” Fir responded.

  “Absolutely. But anyways. It’s always a bad decision to desert. She could have told me. I could have tried to help her.” He whispered, sitting down.

  Fir made sure to flit around the area, checking for any prying ears, then whispered back: “You could have gotten caught, though. They wouldn’t kill you, yeah, but the punishments…” It huffed, making a frustrated face.

  “It’s fine. I didn’t, so we don’t have to think of the consequences.” Antler said, tapping his tail twice on the ground. “Should we check the hellscape? Maybe we could catch a glimpse of those weird cats.”

  Fir’s eyes widened and it grinned maniacally. “Oh fuck yeah.”

  It was always so hot in the hellscape plain. Heatstroke was a looming threat, as the sun scorched the earth so indefinitely you never know when rain will quench the thirst of the water-starved ground. He had only seen it rain once, passing through. He had the satisfaction of killing a skinny, starved little weasel thing back then. Now, of course, Fir flitted along with him.

  “Fuckin’ hate this place. Too hot, bad memories.” Fir sniffed, fanning itself with its wings. It went from flying to perched on Antler’s head, right between their ears. It was a move it had seen Ranger and Hacksaw do, and proceeded to copy. Of course, the coyote and the hawk didn’t mind Fir being a copycat. Everyone loved the little fucking murder air mammal. Including Antler, though he would never admit it. 

  “Have you ever encountered a little blue cat out here?” Antler asked, tilting their head, trotting across the plain. A day’s travel to the edge of the territory where, depending on where you were standing, you could see the blue cat, from Antler’s experience of checking the area.

  “Once, actually! A little blue cat, like Rainhaze talked about, with some white scruff on the chest, and yellow eyes. I mean, that’s what I remember. He was stalking a field mouse or something, and you bet I swooped down and took that little guy. I flew up pretty high, and dropped the mouse, right in front of him. I swear he went ‘A bat?!’ and then I yelled ‘You're welcome! Guaranteed free food, bitch!’ and flew off.”

  “Yeah, I kind of assumed you’d do something like that.” Ant chuckled softly. “When I’m out here, I observe the territory and watch any predator animal I see. Sometimes I see the little blue cat, and he almost always notices me…” He trailed off, thinking.

  “Observant pointy animal.” Fir chuckled, then paused. “Wait. Movement over there. I hear something.”

  Antler squinted, creeping forward. In the distance, near a small patch of some sort of plant. There was some movement, but the shape was blurry from the heat striking off the ground.

  Fir huffed. “Can’t see the bitch from here. I’m goin’ over.” It shot off Antler’s head, leaving the fox making a cross face, a slight pull to the lip. He saw the little shape flit over the bigger shape, then return.

  “Sure as hell is a little blue cat. He’ll probably come over. Good thing our settlement is close to the hellscape plain.” It chuckled, flitting around and then landing between Ant’s shoulders.

  “We are really inspecting this cat. He is like a little bug to us. You know those isopods? The little rolly guys?” He sniffed, watching the little shape, which was moving towards them warily.

  “Of course I do. You literally collect them. I wake up and there are like thirty of them scattered around sometimes. I’ve seen them fully cover the floor of the den sometimes. The den is big. How are you even fucking achieving that.” The bat chuckled. It flapped its wings a couple of times, as if shaking the bugs off of it.

  “I get help. Some of the deeplings and a surprising number of general Defiance members like them and want to collect them with me.” Ant said, watching the shape come close enough to properly see the color. “That’s definitely a blue cat. You weren’t lying.”

  “..You’re saying that Defiance members, animals part of the murder cult, like little bugs enough to fill a den with them?” Fir murmured.

  But, of course, the cat was creeping over to them, so Antler ignored the bat, and gently moved towards the cat. He stared in fear at the fox, who stared back, emotionless. Fir flew around the cat, watching, silent for once. The two had a moment, then Antler broke the tense atmosphere by taking a little isopod from his neck fur and gently setting it down in front of the cat. 

  “HOW MANY OF THOSE DO YOU FUCKING HAVE?!” Fir yelled from their overhead flying. 

  Antler didn’t respond, and instead beckoned Fir down, and turned away, leaving the cat prodding confusedly at the little bug.

-

afterthoughts: literally love that i made defiance like little bugs. my 1 crowning achievement.

also plot twist fir eats them sometimes out of spite

the doc is called "live antler reaction" and i think that's funny. thanks me from 4 days ago or wheneever i wrote it

(@barrenclan for the @)

[therottenkingsreckoning]

[If It Makes You Happy]

finally wrote another one of these silly fluffs! This time a platonic, friendly thing between two characters whomst I don't think interact nearly enough: Frank and Barnaby (the latter being called Barbie here, and using she/her pronouns). Enjoy!

One wouldn't call Frank Frankly particularly "friendly". Sure, they could be quite pleasant towards others once he'd gotten to know them, and even look forward to spending time in their company on occasion. But it had always been very clear that he preferred his time alone, tending the garden or studying bugs.

The former of which they were doing one particularly pleasant Sunday morning, a fresh new tulip bulb in hand as they dug out a hole in the soil, humming a cheerful tune and thinking about all the chores to be done that day. He liked chores. Most folks would probably find that quite strange, but to Frank there was something so satisfying about writing up a detailed and organized list, doing each task with care and precision, then stepping back once they were done to admire all that he had done. There weren't that many he could think of today- a bit of organizing, the usual making of meals- but just meant more time to do their other favorite thing: catching bugs.

And what a day for bugs it was! Bees and butterflies fluttered and buzzed round the garden in the warm spring air, worms crawled in the dirt, and all manner of critters had their daily goings-on among the leaves of his precious garden. Frank though happily about how he might try to nab a few once all the chores were complete. There was one butterfly that looked quite-

"Frank! Hey Frank!" A familiar canine voice called out suddenly across the road, scattering his thoughts like the butterflies that scattered in the wake of Barbie's footsteps. Barbie. In all the time that they had known her, the two had never been very close. Yes, they would talk on occasion, but those talks were usually her annoying Frank with her stupid jokes, or being talked *at* by them whilst seemingly ignoring everything that was being said. Plus, he disliked her habit of chasing Eddie around whenever he'd stop by her house to deliver mail. All this to say that when they turned around to answer, he was already mentally preparing for whatever would ruin their day.

So it was a pleasant surprise indeed when he noticed the cup she held out to them proudly, lidded by a broad and fuzzy paw. Inside was a rather large butterfly, it's wings turquoise fading to pink and veined in gold.

"A Golden Sunrise!" He gasped, immediately taking it to inspect further. "I've been looking for one of these for ages! Oh I've gotta find a jar for you."

She grinned, hands on hips in a triumphant pose. "Ha, I *knew* I found something good! Saw the lil guy in the bushes outside my house, and he didn't look like anything you've mentioned before!"

At this, Frank paused, turning to look at her again. "You...you pay attention to that?" It's true, his speeches were rather long, and the hound had always seemed rather bored when they'd glance up to check. Not that it stopped him. They had long since accepted that these talks were done for himself and the love of the bugs, and that everyone most likely hated it besides him, and maybe Julie. But now?

Barbie awkwardly rubbed her neck with a paw, laughing softly. "Yeah, I mean...sometimes. I'll admit I don't always get what you're talking about...but, I can appreciate how happy it makes you."

His heart was filled with sudden love. To know that someone really listened, and her of all people! They chuckled softly. "It does. Thank you."

"No problem buddy!" She said. "You want me to keep an eye out for anything else? I'm a dog, so finding things is my specialty."

"Oh that would be lovely, yes!" He really meant it too.

Then she was off, and he was back to looking for a proper jar. They didn't have much reasons to stay and chat together for very long. But, Frank thought as he smiled, you'd never say that they weren't friends.

[24-05txt]

Please tell me more about "Wolf at the Door" and "Flock"?

I GOT YOU !!! (Wip ask game!!)

The first chapter of Wolf at the Door is posted here, although it's missing some content because of the word limit on that exchange (gaz content. The world mourns). I'll be adding it back when I FINALLY FUCKING FINISH THE SECOND CHAPTER—anyway. WatD is the "Ghost as a dog-shifter" AU where Soap discovers him on base, assumes he's a K-9 unit, THEN thinks he's a stray, then befriends the stray because he runs his big fat mouth, and ONLY THINKS the dog is incredibly weird when it follows them to the next base too. He does eventually find out that it's Ghost. First work has 3 chapters planned and as a series I'm thinking at least 2 works because I can't fit in everything i WANT to and have it be plot-relavant.

I am having a lot of fun with it so far though because I'm thinking of Soap (at least the way I'm writing him here) as 'Apprehensive' of canines so he's like "this huge fucking beast. Glowing eyes and sharp glinting teeth. It could kill me I could die it would shred me apart" and Gaz who's hearing most of this second hand is like "pubby :)"

Anyway here's a snippet from my document-of-upcoming-scenes-that-are-unattached-at-the-moment. Also he names ghost-as-a-dog Spoon. :)

(I also talk about "Flock" under the cut)

Probably chapter three: post 'reveal'

---

“How long have you known?”

Someone must be feeling especially merciful for Ghost to have broken the silence first. (Actually, Soap figures it’s the fact he’s accidentally gone and let himself into Ghost’s personal life, via the whole ‘I occasionally turn into a giant fuck-off dog’ thing, but he’ll take what he can get.)

“Och, I dinnae ken,” he sighs a little and leans against the door, looking out the window. “Not when you scared the daylights out of me at ass-o’clock, sometime after I started callin’ ya ‘Spoon’,” Johnny has it in himself to be a little embarrassed, and he scratches at his slowly warming cheek. “...s’pose sayin’ I knew was a bit of a stretch, but I’m not exactly surprised, y’know?” He hears creaking leather and risks a look at Ghost, who’s looking at the road. 

“...Price didn’t tell you?” It comes out slow; low, and dangerous in the way that Johnny has learned means they’re in the territory of emotional landmines. He treads carefully, hides the vindication at his suspicions of Price confirmed, and focuses on his honesty.

“No. Went to go ask him about K-9 units too, the first time I saw you. Didn’t tell me shit, just seemed to think it was some kinda joke.” He watches Ghost’s hands relax on the wheel and feels a little tension leave his own shoulders. “...Sorry about all the nonsense, sir,” he mutters, referring to…well, to the whole bit; the patting, the baby-talk, the names, the collar. Steaming Jesus. It was one thing to not be surprised, but having it confirmed still leaves Soap confronting some of his own actions with Ghost-as-a-dog, it leaves him with an emotion somewhere between giddy delight and chagrin. Feeling like a bit of a kicked puppy himself.

Ghost shakes his head silently in response, but that doesn’t really mean anything to Soap. That gesture could be anywhere from ‘I don’t mind’ to ‘just drop it’ or even ‘you confound me with your whole fucking existance, MacTavish’, which—none of those options are life-endingly horrible, but he still needs to know which it is.

So he pushes, of course he does.

“I mean it. Not being sure it was you doesn’t excuse it if you didn’t like it, ‘n I can stop if it bothers you.” Silence from the driver’s side. Ghost doesn’t so much as twitch. “I can get the others to stop too, get ‘em to leave you alone so you can go back to whatever you were doin’ before—”

“No.” The interruption is abrupt, but not with any particular emotion that Soap can recognize. “It’s alright. I…” Ghost trails off, adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, clears his throat. “It’s nice.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well. That’s good then.”

Ghost puffs out a heavy sigh, “...Yeah.”

Johnny is trying to find something to say, but has kind of been blindsided by the fact that Ghost thinks it’s nice. He likes how he’s been treated as Spoon. In the same way that he wasn’t surprised to find out that Ghost was the dog in the first place, he’s also not surprised to find out that Ghost likes being scratched behind the ears—it’s just that now he knows. He can be fully aware that Ghost had every opportunity and reason to maul one of them for treating him like a common household animal and didn’t, but it’s another thing entirely for Ghost to tell him outright.

It’s a lot to think about, a lot to reconcile. He notices that Ghost is hunched defensively over the wheel at around the same time Soap notices he’s been staring at his poor lieutenant for an unknown number of seconds. 

“Would you…” Soap actually takes a moment to think about what he’s about to say. “Would you like a scratch behind the ears, sir?”

---

Cliffhanger because I'm a kind and benevolent writer. How does Ghost react? Tune in for when I chew up and shred the second chapter, then post the third one like I'm tossing it out the car window <3

ANYWAY FLOCK!!! Flock is a wings au one-shot that's just. It's just fluff, a la Figure Study yk? There are probably specific amenities for Ppl w wings (who I am literally calling 'birds' in the fic. Probably not the PC term but I doubt two army dudes are gonna care much if they're just talking about eachother) in shower rooms/maybe separate rooms entirely (bc could you imagine showering and minding ur own business and then get swatted by a wing bc the guy next to you is tryna clean his wing. No bueno). That base concept down its post-mission, they're getting cleaned up, Soap fucked his shoulder so Ghost helps him preen, Soap isn't a chump and returns the favor but it's been 50 million years since Ghost was gently caressed by the human hand and after having at least One emotion about it this fucker passes out like an old man in front of the TV. Then Soap gets to go "OK grandpa lets get you to bed" and tuck him in. (I am the CEO of naptime. It is me.)

The fic is like—like I basically wrote it, it's practically written... had I not changed my mind twice back and forth about the setting. It's in desperate need of editing because right now they're just in some amorphous hotel room that MIGHT be vaguely pool-like or might not be pool-like at all or MAYBE they're not even in a hotel. Is it in Chicago post-hassan? Is it just Some Mission? What needs to happen is I need to make up my mind.

Anyway here's a snippet!

---

Ghost climbs onto the seat and crosses his arms, almost folding in half when he leans down to rest his elbows against the counter. After a beat, his wings loosen some from their typical tight fold, and Soap's mouth actually waters a little bit at the thought of how they'll look spread to full span.

He can't be blamed, Ghost has gorgeous wings and hasn't stretched them once since removing the matte-black. Soap already knows they're massive; even folded up they promise an intimidating size, just like the rest of him, and—wow. Soap should stop this train of thought. He steps up, directly behind Ghost, who turns to glance over his shoulders. His eyes are sharp, calculating. Soap feels seen. So he says the first thing that comes to mind.

"I broke my left wing once. Have I ever told you that story?"

"...Only once?"

"Piss off," Soap mutters, no real heat behind it since he's a little busy trying to find a safe place to put his hands first. Right on the wing seems a little too bold. "It was during basic, actually, we were climbing—I'm gonna touch the back of your neck—we were climbing one of those giant rock-walls—" he places his palm on the warm skin of Ghost's neck, blathering all the while about this stupid story from years ago that he only tells when he needs to defuse a tense situation. When Ghost doesn't tense any further, Soap slowly slides his hand into the downy feathers between his scapulars.

That gets a reaction; Ghost's wings draw inward, tense like a bowstring ready to fire. Soap can feel follicles rising under his hand as feathers puff up—for a moment, he actually expects Ghost to try and physically shake him off. Soap waits, rubs small arcs with his thumb, keeps his mouth running for background noise. When Ghost doesn't pull away, he slowly, carefully, pets through the soft plumage, soothing the irritation with his fingers.

He's off on another tangent by the time it feels safe enough to bring his other hand into play. His fingers are quickly coated in oil from compulsively sliding over the hidden line of Ghost's spine—tense in a way that Soap desperately wants to smooth with a firmer touch, but that would be far, far too much. Smartly, he sticks with picking out grains of sand, dirt, or powder and tiny, loose feathers.

(Occasionally, he thinks he hears Ghost make a noise, something quiet and vulnerable, but he drowns it with the sound of his own voice to save the both of them from having to address it.)

When Soap deems that section complete, it's bright and glossy and only serves to highlight how much trouble Simon must have been having, trying to keep up with his wings on his own for however long. From a polite distance, with his wings folded in and without being familiar enough with him to know what they're supposed to look like, they seem fine; perhaps a little ragged, but rarely are army wings anything less. Soap doesn't know what Simon's wings are supposed to look like, but now he's starting to get an idea.

He says, "I never knew why he had it out for me so bad. I'd think it was the wings—that's what usually gets people—" as he slides both hands over Ghost's wing, one stopping on his elbow, the other coming to rest just above his wrist. He presses up on the elbow, down on the wrist, and has a split second to realize that may have not been the move.

Then Ghost full-body twitches in an aborted flap that sends his wing to John's face, which makes John grip harder, pressing into Ghost's shoulder, instinctually trying to hold him down to keep from getting his nose bruised. Ghost's other wing flares out, scattering water as he twists around to face Soap.

They both freeze. Ghost is breathing hard. His wide, brown eyes bore straight into Soap's skull. At the look on his face, John quickly drops one of his hands and moves the other to Ghost's back again, fingers sinking down into his feathers, trying to comfort.

"Sorry! Sorry," Soap says as soon as he's taken a breath again. "Was tryin' ta stretch yer wing out, just habit to do it myself—"

"It's fine." The rawness of Ghost's voice surprises them both. He clears his throat, and it sounds a little more convincing when he speaks again. "It's fine. Just—"

The wing John wasn't trying to get to ended up stretched out over the damp concrete of the bathing room, so there's a moment of awkward shifting while Ghost gets it back into the water and turns his back to John again. John is almost too mesmerized by the feeling of muscles shifting under his hand to notice the gesture. (Keyword: almost. Something in him still eases when Simon is willing to have him out of immediate line of sight.)

"Keep going. You don't know why he had it out for you...?" A clear prompt, and Ghost sounds almost normal, so John carefully lifts his other hand, trails them both through the down of Ghost's mantle.

"Uh... Yeah, no clue why he had it out for me, I thought it was the wings but he was sweet on the other bird we had—"

Trying to move someone's wing for them is a little bold, he'll admit. But it was a habit—most of his other partners are perfectly content to sit back and relax while he takes care of their feathers, and he was much the same. Ghost wasn't going to be the same; he'd known that, but clearly hadn't been paying enough attention if he made such a stupid mistake. Both of his wings are drawn tight again, and Soap's own twitch closer to mirror the posture.

Trying to be more conscious of what his hands are doing, he starts moving from the mantle and into the edge of Ghost's scapulars, taking his sweet time working his way out toward the rest of the wing.

Ghost takes easier to this approach; slowly, Soap feels muscles loosen, and while he's straightening Ghost's tertials, his wing unfurls a little further.

Soap gets down the rest of his wing that way, with it slowly stretching outward until Soap is combing through his primaries. He stopped talking some time ago, he's not sure when. He's not sure when Ghost dropped his face into his crossed arms either, but sure enough, he's half-laying on the concrete, hunched over the lip of the pool, and his mask is shoved into the crook of his elbow.

He's also not sure when Ghost started trembling, but he is. Soap can hardly tell except for when he's got his fingers pressed against the convulsing muscles and the tips of Ghost's primaries are shaking even when Soap isn't touching them. He stays where he is for a moment, drawing his fingers down over the same spot, carefully watching Ghost's head as if he might catch a peek of an expression.

It's a hopeless endeavor, and he doesn't stop shaking.

---

Get that man a fucking hug. Stat.

ANYWAY those are the things ✨️ I hope you enjoyed:>

[aceontheline]

Love is in Bloom (Mass x Florida: Pt 4)

C//W: Abusive relationships

Florida's face fell a bit, his hand clasped to his chest in a panic as he saw Mass interact with Caitlin so coolly like that. Mass obviously was confused so he asked for clarification about the situation. Florida took a deep breath and jokingly asked if Mass had "all night" to discuss what was wrong with his and Cailtlin's relationship. "Very funny. If you're not ready to tell me, it's fine" Mass replied, sitting down on Florida's bed. Florida sighed in exasperation, laying his head down on Mass's lap.

"Where do I begin? Well, let's start with her evolution into the crazy shitshow I had to deal with. First of all, she pretty much needed to know where I was 24/7. Even if I was at a table meeting with you guys, I had to Facetime her. Shower? Facetime. No matter where I was, I had to show my face" Florida recalled.

"Oh boy, one of THOSE. Well, you just let me know if you need your space, okay?" Mass responded, stroking his hand through his lover's soft hair. Florida nodded.

"Second thing. She would inspect everything in my room and any space I used. If something was out of place or unfamiliar to her, she instantly accused me of cheating on her. She'd also go through my phone and flip out if I got any message from ANY woman. She would... She'd..." Florida's eyes started to well up.

Mass already got the idea and said he didn't need Florida to elaborate any further. He kissed Florida's forehead softly and looked into his teary eyes. "I would never lay my hands on you like that" Mass said in a stern way. Florida's face scrunched up as he tried not to cry. Mass encouraged Florida to just "let it all out". Florida took Mass up on that offer and cried into his shoulder.

Once Florida was done sobbing away, he looked up at Mass. He mustered up a goofy looking smile for Florida, canines and all. Florida chuckled and put his forehead against Mass's, kissing his lips softly. "You dork" Florida teased, kissing him again. "Yeah, but you agreed to date me so" Mass replied, sticking his tongue out in a goofy way. Florida chuckled. Mass then asked if he wanted to keep going about Caitlin, or to stop completely now. Florida nodded, stating that he was okay, all while holding Mass's hand.

The signs that Florida gave were as follows:

Gaslighting. Caitlin would deliberately make Florida apologize for every little thing he did wrong, or she would blow up on him. Even if he wasn't sure what he did, then Caitlin would flip out. She would even make Florida feel like he's "going crazy" when he would react to any and all of her "jokes" about him (that were really mean) in a negative way. "You're so sensitive" is something he'd hear a lot.

Florida continually had to establish his boundaries because Caitlin would just "surprise" him with visits to wherever he was, constantly being all over him. Florida had to repeatedly tell her off for this, and she would "apologize", only to continually cross his boundaries and practically never leave him alone.

Florida, at some point, really was feeling anxious or very high strung whenever Caitlin was around.

Caitlin would always make statements as "You'd be better if ___" and make Florida feel bad for being himself.

Adversely, she would aggressively love bomb him in order to make him stay around her. Caitlin would lay on the compliments and gifts & make Florida happy.

Mass heard all of these toxic signs and was immediately curious as to what lead to their breakup. Florida sighed heavily once more, sitting up to look Mass in the eyes. He felt ready to tell.

"I kind of went to Gov of all people, asking for advice. York too. They both told me that this relationship sounded toxic and helped me pave the way for breaking things off with her. I went to Caitlin and did the deed... She barely reacted, but now that I see THOSE messages-"

Florida was interrupted by the door of the Statehouse almost being kicked in. The other states were holding someone back as Gov was screaming. Mass and Florida charged toward the scene.

Caitlin.

Florida rushed back to Mass's room, and Mass just stood over Caitlin. He bore his fangs in an angry way, looking at her with a menacing glare. One that could kill.

"What are you doing here, you filthy trash?" Mass asked.

"Excuse me?! Florida and I are STILL dating. He did NOT mean to break up with me!" Caitlin replied. Everyone heard rapid footsteps approaching. Florida faced them all, looking at Caitlin.

"Caitlin. Leave me the fuck alone. We broke up like 8 months ago. You need to MOVE. ON. Get out of my life. I have someone else now who makes me happy" Florida said, grabbing onto Mass's arms.

"You can get out now, or we can call the cops and have them put you in a 'funny farm'. Overnight shipping" Mass joked angrily.

The three of them argued until actual Police came, that were called by Gov. Mass showed the cops Caitlin's messages toward him, with each one getting more graphically violent with each threat/detail. The Police immediately cuffed Caitlin and took her away. Some of the other states caught wind of this, and all Florida had to say was "Caitlin. Shitstorm" and they all knew.

Mass and Florida went back to Mass's room, where they lied in bed together silently. Mass stroked his lover's hair once more, really paying attention to some of it's more natural curves and form. He kissed Florida's lips softly for a moment.

"I may be crazy, but I ain't THAT fucked up" Mass said, referring to the obvious.

"I guess we'll wait and see about that" Florida said with a chuckle.

Mass immediately pinned Florida down and gazed into his warm, soft eyes. The two immediately stopped this, blushing deeply. It was still too early for anything of that sort to go on, but Mass could tell that Florida wanted it more than anything. Mass was willing to wait it seemed, as did Florida.

Mass then got a message on Facebook, as Florida was sound asleep. He was just getting messaged left and right by people he didn't know, was about to, or had completely forgotten about. This time... It wasn't any of that. Because the message was from...

Darren.

Mass could tell because of how quickly the man typed his messages and how he ended sentences (either "lol" or an emoji). What the fuck did Darren want though? That was the million dollar question, so he waited for Darren to send the rest of his message. Until MA's phone pinged again.

"Mass? I finally found you. Let's talk. I miss you" Darren said in his message.

Pffttt, fat chance. As if Mass would even attempt to message Darren again. He felt that sinking pit in his stomach that wasn't right. Rather than ignoring his "gut instinct", he managed to block Darren out again. He wanted nothing to do with that bullshit, not after what Florida just went through too.

He thought he could block it out... Until he got bombarded with texts from Darren, demanding that the two of them talk.

"What's there to talk about? You cheated on me for some bitch secretary at your work. That's it" Mass replied.

"Yeah, but I've changed since then-"

"Oh good for you. Not that you give a shit, but I've got someone else now. And he's infinitely better than you" Mass replied once again.

Darren immediately stopped replying after that. "That's what I thought" Mass said to himself coolly and just got ready for bed.

Previous ( Here ) ; Next ( Here )

Masterpost ( Here )

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Hmmm, what about Peter taking his wolfy boyfriend for a nice moonlight hike and taking Lucian's not having a human mouth to see how many dog jokes he can come up with?

(With the promise to make it up to him afterwards)

Peter has the worst sense of humor and we love him for that.

On with the fic!

--

"I don't see why I have to be along for the walk." Peter complained, adjusting the backpack he was carrying on his back, filled with Lucian's clothes, boots, and some food and a water bottle. "You can do walkies just fine on your own."

Lucian turned his head, giving him a look that canines and wolves shouldn't be able to do, but he sure was able to.

Peter raised an eyebrow, then smirked, deciding that if he was going to be stuck having to go on this little full moonlight hike with his boyfriend, who had asked nicely, he was gonna make it fun.

You want him to be outdoors in, ew, nature? Well, you brought this one yourself, Lucian.

"Come on, that's what this is, yeah? Walkies? I mean, call it what it is, but it's good for you, I guess. A big boy like you needs to get his energy out, especially when the moon's full!"

Lucian huffed and carried on, it really wasn't help that he was doing this on all fours, it made it too easy.

"You likin' this, big guy? Think we should make it a run instead? Got the zoomies in ya yet?"

The lycan stopped and sighed loudly, one of those dog-like ones that had Peter biting his lip hard so he wouldn't laugh. He rose to his feet and dusted off his hands, which seemed really fucking hilarious, but Peter was holding back. Barely.

He glared at the human before carrying on his walk. Peter followed behind, grinning. "We can get all that energy outta ya later then. Might toss somethin' for you to chase." He said and looked around at the rock formations, common for places like this in the American southwest.

The grin grew. "You know, I heard that fossils can be found here. Like, cool shit, like raptors and stuff. Think we could find one of the big bones if we did a little digging?"

There were familiar snapping sounds and suddenly Peter bumped right into an even more familiar body. He blinked and looked at a very annoyed, very naked Lucian. "You could have just said no to my offer to go hiking, you know that, right?"

Peter pouted. "Yeah, I know, but... you like it, and you looked really hopeful I'd say yes. So, ya know, I came along for you."

"And I am thankful for that, but could you please stop it with the dog jokes. I am not, nor have I ever been, a dog."

"Alright, I'll stop." Peter nodded.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you to do."

"Yeah, well, I might as well throw you a bone or whatever."

He got a rather sharp growl in response and Peter held up his hands. "Okay, okay! That was the last one!" He said, trying hard not to laugh at this, because it was hard to be threatened by a naked Lucian out in nature.

"Last one?"

"Yep!" Peter nodded again, then smiled.

For now.

--

One of these days Lucian is gonna punch him in the arm and it's gonna bruise, and Peter has no one to blame but himself (but it will be worth it).