#he just ripped my shades off me and snapped them in half

[photorose11]

I just need five fucking minutes to have a complete breakdown

#fuck today #my son spilled all my coffee grounds over himself and my kitchen #he just ripped my shades off me and snapped them in half #his father this morning kept saying I ReAlLy DoNt WaNnA WoRK tOdAY #because he just wants to stay home high as fuck and play video games and DO NOTHING WITH HIS KIDS #NO DUDE PLZ GO TO WORK BEFORE I COMMIT A CRIME #I’m so pent up with fucking rage #honest to god want to jump in front of a moving vehicle

[bigification]

Step Daddy

"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.

"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"

"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.

I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.

I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.

"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.

"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.

"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.

"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.

"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.

That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.

Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.

Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.

"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.

A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.

"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.

I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.

"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.

I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.

"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! May I request a reader x Keegan drabble where the reader is an artist in secret?

Sure, they roam the wake of no mans land in a ravaging war, but in the moments they are not on missions they capture the scenery around them. Wether it be on rooftops, surrounding woods or abandoned shelters, the reader revels in the few moments of silence they have before another bombardment of bloodshed is thrown their way to remember places or things around them before they eventually move again

How would Keegan react, let alone if he caught reader sketching him?

Thank you for your time, have a good day :D

—Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

The camp is quiet, and you are tired. 

Looking out along the wreckage of this wasted world, there seems to be no end to the broken valleys or the craters of rock—this desolation remains as if an angry God had thrown a tantrum, and smashed the earth to bits. Trees grew sideways, wreckage that could be bits of houses or even remnants of bone breed in the little spaces under moss and bush; where the rest died, nature took back what was hers. Thus, the cycle continued.

What breathes, dies, and with that firm and undisputable reality, you find beauty in moments like these. 

You blink down at what still breathes of the patchwork lungs of No Man’s Land, pencil in your hand still for but a moment of red-eyed concentration. The deer was down in the dip below the Ghosts’ quiet camp for the steadily growing night—white where it should be a tawny-blonde shade. Barely breathing, you watch with half of its albino form sketched out in short bursts of graphite on your sun-bleached possession. 

A sketchbook, old, and worn to the very binding of its pages, and yet to you a more prized possession had never been held in your grip. 

So focused on the deer and its white shadow; its lithe body as it grazes along the forest floor amidst a soft rustling of leaves, you don’t notice the man behind you—a man supposed to be sleeping. 

It’s a minute of looking at your awe-filled face before Keegan clears his throat, speaking in a low grumble. “Not every day you see that, huh?”

You startle back so quickly that your pencil slips out of your hand, bouncing off your thighs before clattering to the flat rock that serves as your lookout platform. A clink of metal on stone is all it takes, the pencil falling down into the lower land and striking through greenery as you gasp and snap your eyes away. The flighty heart of the deer all at once sparked in a puff of air from its nostrils and a flair of a raised tail. 

It disappears into the bushes and its white flash is seen until the thick foliage swallows it again. You look back just in time to grace your eyes with one last glimpse. 

A deep disappointment blooms and you level out a sigh as Keegan clicks his tongue, guiltily rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Shit, Sweetheart,” he hums, “didn’t mean to…” Keegan tapers off with a low groan. “I’ll, uh, get you a new pencil when we’re back, yeah?” 

You stare at the forest a moment longer before huffing out and shifting—you turn and glance at the Sergeant before grumbling out, “You have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people, Russ. I don’t like it when it’s me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, his body still in gear and armed just like yours. Even sleeping, Ghosts bore the fangs of the living. Keegan’s face is down a mask, though, so you’re privy to see his built jaw and strong features in the moonlight. Black hair like a void. 

He sighs. 

“Again, didn’t mean to. Thought you knew I was there.” Your eyes roll, but a small smirk snaps your lip.

“Of course you did.” Huffing and shaking his head, the man comes to lean against your rock. 

“What ya workin’ on anyways? Seen you scribblin’ in that thing every chance you get. Got curious enough tonight to ask when I saw you up during Ajax’s watch.” He blinks at you, swirling with curiosity and dim intrigue. “You take over for him?”

You smile, shrugging. “Maybe.” Keegan stares and raises a dark brow as your form leans closer, presenting your object of patience and smudged graphite. “You gonna wake him up?”

The man takes the object and studies your half-finished work with an acute eye, taking in the lines and erased bits that indent the paper. He tilts his head at it and a moment later he grunts an answer, lost in thought. 

“Depends.” Blue meets your vision in a slow sweep. “You tired?”

Face burning, you clear your throat and begin to stutter a negative before the worst moment of your life takes place. 

Keegan grabs one page of your sketchbook and starts flipping. Heart lurching and eyes wrenching open to the size of dinner plates, your hand snatches at the old cover—but not before the damage is done.

The dead-gazed Sergeant locks onto a perfect image of his own sleeping body from hours earlier. Drawn face soft and calm in the gray of blended material that you’d had to use your finger to achieve, and limbs loose; he almost seemed to come off the page in an intensive display of detail. 

Keegan pauses and feels his jaw slightly slacken, eyes going that bit wider before his brows lift in shocked pleasure. Your hand latches onto the top of your book and rips it from the man’s grasp easily.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through people’s things?!” Your heart is racing, palms going clammy. At your chest, you hold your belonging with a tight scoff of embarrassment.

Keegan’s lids move up and down three times in quick succession before he replies. A tease is so deep in his words you cringe with a burning face.

“Anyone tell you it’s rude to watch people sleep, Sweetheart?” Glaring, you have to look away. 

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge to others that you liked the gruff man, but if anyone took one look into your sketchbook they’d know the truth. Pages were dedicated to finding the perfect slant of his eyes—that structure of his jaw and his broken-one-to-many-times nose. 

His lips and how his skin looked when he smirked. 

Shame tightens your face and you stare hard at the trees a few feet away; the sleeping forms of your comrades. Until a smooth chuckle leaves you breathless. 

A puff of air spreads over your cheek but you don’t dare turn your head. 

Keegan whispers to you slowly, that gravel in his tone and his lips brushing against your ear as he leans closer to you—arms crossed in front of him.

“If you wanted me to pose there, Doll, all you had to do was ask me. No use watchin’ from a distance…I’ll give you the full tour.” 

He walks off back to his mat of leaves and grass and you’re left gaping and choking on your own thoughts; honied vision dripping shock.

Keegan calls easily over his shoulder as if his comment hadn’t made your pulse pound, “I’m waking up Ajax—go back to bed. Scenery’ll be the same come morning.” 

You breathe in his sly quip, “trust me.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #call of duty x you #cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ #keegan x reader #cod keegan #call of duty keegan #keegan p russ x reader #call of duty x reader #x fem!reader #cod x female reader #x female reader #call of duty: ghosts

[tboygareth]

89 and Steddie 😌

hiiii baby!!! i love this prompt thank you sooooo much!!

89. “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” word count: 941 tags: modern au, nsfw, mastubation, references to Dom/sub dynamics

After pressing send, Eddie just… waited. He knew he would be waiting for a while, because he knew that Steve was in a meeting right now, but… oh, the reaction he was going to get from that was going to be heavenly. 

Eddie didn’t usually take nudes. Not because he thought they were tacky or anything, he just… he didn’t really care to take the time to set up anything special, and sending Steve a picture of his hard cock in his fist just seemed like twenty somethings shit. They were above that. They were married for fuck’s sake. Who sends their husband a bad picture of their hard dick in their fist at thirty five years old, y’know?

This one was good, though. Eddie had just gotten out of the shower after knocking out a couple chapters of the new novel he was writing, and his skin was glistening with water droplets. The sunlight that was coming through the bedroom window was hitting Eddie’s skin just so, and so he stood in front of their full length mirror and snapped a few pictures on his phone. His cock and balls looked terrific, if Eddie could be so fucking bold - wet and heavy and half hard after spending his entire shower thinking about Steve.

Maybe later, when Steve got home from work, he would be in such a frenzy over the pictures that he would just have to rip all of his husband’s clothes off and have his wicked way with him.

Laying back on the bed, Eddie tugged at himself a few times at the thought, bringing himself to full hardness in a few short strokes. He could picture it now, Steve getting out of his meeting and seeing the photos, his face turning that lovely shade of red it so often did when he was turned on in public. He would call Eddie, compliment the picture, promise things for when he gets home.

Eddie was fully hard now, precome leaking from his slit as he really got into it. With his head thrown back, fucking into his fist, Eddie groaned. He thought of Steve again, how Steve’s been having a hard time keeping his hands off of Eddie for weeks now, how he would get home from work every day recently wanting to lay Eddie out on the bed and fuck him till dinnertime.

Eddie wasn’t exactly gonna complain. He loved Steve, he loved sleeping with Steve. The things they did together was like nothing Eddie had ever done before with a lover. 

When he thought about their sex life, Eddie was reminded of all the firsts he’d shared with Steve; the first time Steve tied him up, the first time Steve choked him, the first time Steve bent him over his lap and spanked him. Eddie had called Steve Daddy more than he ever even called his own father that as a child and y’know what? Good. 

Eddie was starting to get into it now, thinking about Steve fucking into him from behind, from above him, from below him while Eddie ride his cock. He was pumping his fist, stroking himself, the sound of it wet in the quiet of their bedroom. His chest was hot with sweat, the sensation of his approaching release beginning to build in his balls and his gut, and just when Eddie was almost there, his phone rang.

Steve.

“Hey, baby,” he panted into the phone. “Thinkin’ about you right now.”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” 

Steve’s tone brought Eddie up short. He sounded accusatory. He sounded mad.

“Uh, yeah? Why, did you not like them?”

Steve sighed. “No. Babe. I loved them. Obviously. But you know who didn’t like them? Human fucking Resources. The founding goddamn partners of the firm. I could have lost my fucking job just now, Eddie.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, what happened?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped and he was… soft. Eddie was laying there, butt ass naked on their bed with his flaccid dick in his hand, his heart pounding at the idea of Steve’s bosses - whom Eddie had alreadt met several times at the office holiday parties - seeing pictures of Eddie’s cock. How the fuck would that even happen?

“So you know my MacBook is attached to my phone, right? That’s kinda the whole thing with Apple products?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh, shit. I was fucking presenting my proposal, Eds. It’s the end of the fucking quarter. We’re making numbers, thanks to me, and this proposal… goddammit, Eddie. We had to call a stop to the meeting. The pictures, they…”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. They were cropped… not well.” Steve sighed again. “I hope you’re embarrassed and I hope you know you’re going to be hearing about it at the Christmas party this year.”

“Jesus Christ. Did anyone see my dick?”

“Yeah!” Steve laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Everyone saw your dick. God, at least it’s a nice dick. One of the women on my team congratulated me.”

Eddie groaned. “Was it Sandra?”

“Yeah.”

“How long’s it gonna be till people at work can laugh about it?”

“Oh, Eds, I’m pretty sure they’re already laughing about it. I did have to meet with HR, though. You can’t be doing that shit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Other than that, how’d the meeting go?”

And Steve laughed. It was a beautiful sound, that laugh. It was like music. And Eddie has always loved music. Almost as much as he loved Steve.

#prompts are closed <33 #ask games #bee's blurbs #sav <333 #steddie

[impossiblesaladwerewolf]

Attitude- Ddot smut

Request by - @getthefuckoutofhereidiot also were gonna pretend your names thyri cause that's the oc I made up for his story's but you can pretend it's your name if you want

I groaned annoyed cuz this boy invited me over to his house just to be fucking playing 2k since I fucking got here which was 2 hours like bsfr I'm smh

Ddot: YO DICKHEAD MOVE

He yelled and I rolled my eyes

~ lil times timeskip ~

Ddot: ight ima hope off

He shut the game off and walked over to me and slapped my ass

Ddot: damn ma yo ass looks good as hell in these shorts

He spoke massaging the flesh gently

I rolled my eyes First this lil bitch ignores me after practically begging for me to come over then he starts abusing me hell na

Me: get the fuck of me darrien

He made a face

Ddot: the gov is crazy why the hell you got an attitude

He asked and I scoffed

Me: oh I dunno maybe it's the fact that you invited me over but you been on that fucking game since I got here which was 2 and a half hours ago d 2 and a half hours

He rolled his eyes

Ddot: first of all thyri watch ya fuckin mouth and second of all check your fuckin attitude before I fuck you so hard you can barely remember anything but my name and the feeling of this dick inside you

I looked and started getting wet cause his deep ass voice but wdtat

Me: boy please that lil dick could never

His eyes turned a darker shade

Ddot: last time I check this lil dick has you screaming creaming and squirting every night so ion wanna here no bullshit ight

I rolled my eyes

Me: ya right you ha could never bsfr

I laughed

He grabbed my ankles and flipped me over on my back also pulling me to the edge of the bed He ripped my shirt off me and my boobs bounced slightly at the motion considering I am not wearing a bra

Me: yo what the hell

Ddot: shut the fuck up

He spoke and started sucking on my tits He sucked on one of my nipples and pinched and tweaked the other

Me: ohhh

I moaned and put my manicured hands through his twists

He did the same to the other

He detached from my chest and unbuttoned my shorts sliding them off He rubbed his hand over my clothed pussy and rubbed harsh circles on my clit He pulled them down and tossed them somewhere

Ddot: suck

He spoke and I opened my mouth and he put 2 fingers in my mouth I sucked them gingerly just like I do his dick

He pulled them out and shoved them in my drenched hole imedietly curling and thrusting them into my gspot

Me: oh fuck ohhhh

I immediately felt the pressure form in my stomach

Me: oh fuck baby yes right there ohhh fuck

My thighs started shaking and I knew that I was close and he knew to

Ddot: thought my dick couldn't even do this

Me: oh please I didn't mean it I only wanted your attention ahh

His eyes softened slightly at the confession Ddot: shiit mama I'm sorry fuck you gonna cum

I nodded

Me: it's ahh okay oh God I'm so close

The unbearable pleasure to over and the coil in my stomach snapped I squirted all over my thighs his chest and arm and the bed He pulled his fingers out once I was done

Ddot: damn ma that's hot as hell

He took off his pants and boxers and stroked his self a few times before sliding his dick up and down my pussy teasingly

Me: fuck stop playing and just fuck me- ohhhhh

He slid in abruptly and we both moaned Once he bottomed out he gave me a few minutes to adjust once I nodded he started thrusting at a fast pace My eyes rolled back and I couldn't stop moaning He put my legs over his shoulders and put his hand around my throat rubbing my clit at the same

Me: oh fuck

Ddot: shit baby you comin already

He groaned feeling my slick pulse and squeeze his cock I nodded weakily

Ddot: where's that attitude now huh

I moaned loudly as my orgasam washed over me making me shake and squirt

Ddot: oh fuck ya mami take it

The overstimulation quickly took over and my body started to feel extremely hot

Ddot: oh fuck baby I'm Cumming ohhhhh shit

He moaned and I felt his hot ropes of cum spill inside me making me whimper He slid out gently We were both breathing heavily He kissed my cheek and got up He walked over to his closet and grabbed a hoodie and sweats and went into the bathroom and brought out a wet towel He gently cleaned me off then handed me the hoodie which I put on He also pit on the sweats Long story short we fell asleep right after

#Sugerhill ddot #Ddot #Sugerhill #Smut #Sugerhillddot smut #Sugerhill ddot x reader #Sugerhill ddot smut

[soulofapatrick]

Be my Valentine - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: Someone pranks Y/N with a valentines date and it ends so much better than you expected

Words: 1K

Warnings: being stood up(?); pure fluff

Y/N’s POV

My face flushes as I realise the invite was a prank, teenagers and young adults all sniggering at me as Ellie grips my elbow to stop me turning and running out. She’s leading me over to her family booth where Joel; Tommy; Maria and Jesse are all sat, waiting for Ellie. I try to shrug her off but she’s persistent and has a strong grip on me that I can’t escape so I just comply with being shoved in the booth, nest to Jesse who seems to immediately understand. 

Jesse takes the piece of paper from me and rips it up there and then, Ellie having disappeared to probably get us drinks. I can feel the Miller brothers’ eyes on me watching this whole interaction go down. With Ellie gone there’s no one to stop me leaving or so I thought. Dina appears, sliding into the booth so she and Jesse are trapping me in. Fuck the three of them and their hive mind so I just look down at the table and the torn up paper.

“Drink.” Ellie has joined us again, practically sitting in Dina’s lap as we’re all squashed onto one side while Tommy; Joel and Maria continue their own conversation, acting like nothings happening. They obviously know somethings happening but they probably don’t know what. I just shake my head and grab the beer, practically chugging half of it then and there. If I’m drunk I won’t have to think about what happened. 

I tune out Ellie and Jesse bickering about who Dina finds the funniest to really take in the famous Miller brothers. I’ve lived in Jackson for five months now and have never really had the opportunity to meet them or see what’s so scary about them. Ive had a few short conversations with Joel as that was inevitable with being friends with his daughter but Tommy… He’s either busy running the settlement with Maria or out on patrols. I’m sure him and Maria are a thing with how tightly knit they are and how in tune to each other they seem to be. 

Both brothers seem worn with the pressure of keeping everyone safe and there’s guilt there too. Ellie’s told me about Sarah so that’s probably the main guilt they both seem to carry as Tommy seems like the type of person to sacrifice himself for family. There’s about ten years between the brothers but it doesn’t seem to affect their relationship one bit, if anything it seems to make them closer. They don’t look fully alike but there are some features like their noses or actions and habits that scream siblings. Unlike Joel’s short salt and pepper hair, Tommy has dirty blonde hair that is just long enough to put in a small bun. A few strands always escape the bun and I gave to admit I’ve wanted to brush them out of his jade coloured eyes. No matter how stressful the situation is Tommy’s eyes are always bright and full of hope which I envy sometimes but it makes him more appealing. He’s also go a scar across his cheek that creases when he talks or smiles, probably from a bullet graze I’m guessing. 

“Do you want to dance?” A soft southern drawl snaps me out of my studying of the pair to find my best friends have abandoned me for the dance floor and it’s now just me, Joel and Tommy sat in the booth, Maria having also left at some point. The person asking me to dance is Tommy, pieces of the Valentines invite in his hands. It sends my face a very embarrassing shade of red because it’s in enough pieces for him to understand what happened, “Wouldn’t want that pretty dress go to waste.” 

“O-okay,” I can’t say no to that boyish grin as he stands up and holds a hand out for me. I do hesitate before taking it and letting him lead me, “I can’t dance though.” 

“That’s okay, just go with the flow,” He twirls me once before pulling me close to his chest, his large hands settling on my waist while mine snake around his shoulders. Of course in this stupid cliche thing that is my life it’s a slow song playing. Oh wait no, Ellie’s talking to the person in control of the music. I follow Tommy’s lead, swaying with him and trying to ignore the way more and more eyes burn through my skin as I’m dancing with the leader of the settlement. It makes my face heat up even more and I’m hiding it in his jacket, “Hey Sweetheart, you okay?”

“People are staring.” I mumble, keeping my face hidden until he slows us to a stop so he can hook a finger under my chin and make me look up at him. He’s not much taller than me, about two to three inches, and he’s so close it makes my throat dry. One of my hands slides from the back of his neck to the side of it, thumb rubbing gently as his bearded jawline and I swear his eyes darken for a second. 

In the soft light, his whole body so close to mine I can smell the vanilla cologne Joel gave him for Christmas as well as the cherry from the drink he was drinking. I think Ellie got it for him to try as she’s been raving about this drink for months. I can feel my heart in my throat as those familiar jade orbs flick down to my slightly parted lips, a hungry look in them as he whispers, “Want to give them something to stare at?”.

“Wh-“ I don’t get to finish my sentence because he’s closing the gap and pressing his lips to mine. His hands are snaking around my waist, one trailing light fingers up my spine to rest on the back of my neck as he tilts his head into the kiss to get better access. The kiss is soft yet it make me weak at the knees, so glad he’s holding onto me. 

“Happy Valentines Day Darling,” He presses a chaste kiss to my shoulder as the song comes to an end but he doesn’t let me go, “Will you be my Valentine?” 

“Yes,” I rush out, still breathless and heart pounding. He kisses me again, smiling against my lips. 

“Thank god.” 

#tommy miller #tommy miller x y/n #Tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller smut #tommy tlou #tlou tommy #tlou smut #tlou fluff #the last of us #the last of us fluff #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #Ellie williams #Jesse #dina #Joel Miller

[boytouya]

Heaven Can Wait - Eddie Munson

w.c: ~1.4k

a/n: i’m back! heyyy sorry it’s not animanga content! if you want to interact w/ me or watch me cry over eddie, my sideblog is @sl4sherfilmz ! not proofread

additional tags: very very light (and unintentional) sexual tension, hurt/comfort, panic attacks (brief), kissing, hand-holding, gender neutral reader (black-coded though)

It’s a quarter past twelve, and you and Eddie rest in the safety of each other’s arms. Your fingers are laced together, palm to palm, and only then, your skin remains the same shade. The lines adorning your palms are fitted, locked together like a complex puzzle — like the unsolved rubix cube lost somewhere deep inside Eddie’s bedside drawers. You remember scavenging through them like it was yesterday. His scent clinging to the trailer carpet, his warm blanket, the guitar he kept attached to his wall (he’d flirt with it more than he’d ever had with you). The recoil of his curls as you play with his hair, bouncing back into place as if you never touched it in the first place. Bunched up napkins and ripped joint paper left discarded, notepads of incomplete thoughts— or were they lyrics? — disregarded. Despite the stark differences, his home wasn’t as divergent as your own.

You had only realized much earlier.

Eddie’s silhouette was undeniably his, tucked away in the corner of your bed, terror etched into his features, laid bare and vulnerable as his white, muddied shoes dug into your bedsheets. Your face briefly contorted, sour, as you gingerly lifted his legs, one by one, to pry off his shoes. His breath trembles, moonlight seeping through the slightly drawn curtains — you’d let him inside discreetly, after all. And perhaps you felt ashamed for thinking it, but the natural light kissing his face made him ten times more beautiful.

“Eddie,” You murmured, voice laced with patience and heavy with thought. His response was delayed, a wordless shake of his head as his cotton socks dampened with unlaundered mud. Hickory eyes flickered across the expanse of your bedroom, anxiously settling on the worried expression bewitching your face. “I believe you— whatever it is. I believe you, okay? What happened?”

“I’m not crazy,” He started, hands shooting up in self defense. Dread coursed through your bloodstream, half-expectant to hear his own interjection, a raised finger and wide smile as he yells, ‘Well, I kind of am.. But I guess that’s what you like about me.’ But, unfortunately, that wasn’t what you received. He inhaled sharply, as if all the air in the room was evaporating before his eyes. “I swear— I’m not… Her body— Chrissy, she just… like, lifted, y’know? Into the air and, uh—”

Eddie whimpered, occupying himself with the rings that suddenly felt much too tight for his fingers, like they’d snap the bone clean off, like the joints would bend just as Chrissy’s had before. Silence filled the air, a secret exchange between the two of you as Eddie hugged himself, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You wanted to— no, yearned to hold him, feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed— as you breathed. To remind him of his life, the life he has ahead of him. To absorb your scent, to break down and press himself into the comforting heat of your body. To confide in your judgement, your presence. Even just a little, just for now.

Maybe it was embarrassing, shameful, even, to feel your heart somersault into your throat as he spoke to you. You couldn’t help it, nodding along and consoling his cries— your chest tightened for more reasons than one. And Eddie, eyes red-rimmed and raw, couldn’t quite register his voice as his own. It was all drowned out, buzzing in his ears like the cicadas outside your window. His heart hammered in his chest, thrumming against his ribcage as he watched your impassioned expression.

After readjusting your position, you placed your hand over his heart and breathed deeply. It hammered into your palm, erratic and rushed until the man was able to follow your lead. His shoulders rose slowly, and with each passing second, the longer he soaked in your presence, the more he felt his apprehension dissipate into the nightly air.

“I… I believe you,” You whispered, falling silent on ears other than his and your own. Color slowly returned to the brunet’s cheeks, his eyelashes were long, dark and damp as he sniffled. For a moment, it’s unbelievable— unearthly. The thought of such a thing just happening, something you can’t really fathom or put into words. The shock of acknowledging the death of someone you’d once known, even if you weren’t close.

You could only imagine how Eddie felt.

Your core trembled as you subconsciously shuffled closer to Eddie. This time, his hands remained planted in his lap. Firmer this time, you cleared your throat. “Really, I do.”

He took a moment to really look at you now, now that the air was forced back into his lungs. Now that his senses are flooding back. He could smell your bare scent, warm and comforting. His lips twinged with the salt of unshed tears, his fingertips brushed against denim, seeking a warm hand to hold. The gentle moonlight caressed his cheeks, leaked into the loose spirals of curls that cascaded down his back. It trickled onto you, so delicate and forgiving despite the harsh realities that keep his footing unsteady. You’re stunning. Unequivocally, downright, stunning. Tonight, that was one thing he’s sure of.

It’s almost unfair.

Awkwardly, cool rings pressed into your arm as he drove a gentle punch to your shoulder. The cold metal spread goosebumps across your skin, Eddie’s knuckles brushing against each raised bump. His smile was watery, but no longer drowned and insincere, “Sorry, that was pretty stupid.”

“Shut up,” You scoffed, molding your hand into a fist just as he had, pressing your bare skin against the black leather encased around his arm. He dramatically flailed at the gentle gesture, laugh lines pulling at his cheeks as he threw himself off your bed. Swallowing a hearty laugh, your eyebrows furrowed. “How is that stupid?”

Sensing the unresolved tension, Eddie holds up his hands in surrender, swiveling his hips in your relative direction. Picking himself back up to lay beside you, his dark eyes narrowed into lazy slits as he looked up at you, concealed exhaustion on his face. Your hands are dangerously close now, barely an inch separating your pinkies. Your left hand sits beside the right-side of his head, and Eddie closely watches you through his curls. Your warmth is radiant, drawing his palm closer and closer.

“Well, aren't you up close and personal,” The corner of his lips curl upward, a mischievous and giddy glint cascading over the sharp edge of his pearly, canine teeth. His eyes trail down your face, studying your nose, your cheeks— how soft your lips look. “I can basically count your eyelashes right now. ”

“Shut up, Munson.” You repeat, reminiscent of a broken record, only breathless and hushed this time. Your breath pans against his face, lips briefly parted to wet them. Suddenly, the air feels much more dry.

“This is gonna sound…strange.. but,” Eddie’s lips, plump and pink, tighten into a line as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, catching in his throat while he struggles to gather correct words. “Can I.. Your hand looks very hold-able right now. Wow, is it always like that?”

“Like what?” You bark out a laugh, a genuine and large smile pulling at your cheeks. You take the opportunity to interlock your pinkies, electricity and stardust shocking your entire nervous system. Eddie briefly pauses, wide eyes sparkling just like they had on your first date— maybe this was the brightest you’ve ever seen them. His hands are calloused yet soft, rings on three of his fingers that distract you from the sweat on his palms.

Not that you particularly mind.

“Really soft, apparently.” His thumb rubs untraceable patterns into your skin, and it feels like you’ve fallen for him all over again. You can hear him further whisper, seemingly entranced in the softness of your skin: “Wow! That’s crazy..”

“Eddie.” His train of thought is lost, stuck between a rock and a hard place as his glassy eyes bore into yours. He blinks once, twice, three times, before nodding along, lips pursed together as he hums:

“Hm?”

“I think we’re way past holding hands.” But even then, as you lean over to gently press your plush lips against his own, your hands remain fitted. Palm to palm, where your skin remains the same, his pulse beats violently when your lips crash together. It feels like home, like a freshly dried blanket. It feels like cherries in the spring, like breathing for the first time.

Most importantly, it feels like Eddie.

taglist:

@ryoukuna @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @dilfchoso @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @mhasimp666 @princejasno @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shadows-of-nightmares @double-homiecide @saturnsbend @trailsnix @luckduckanon @oddball215 @toodeepintofandoms @devilgirlcrybaby @playb0ysuna @uwiuwi @yuzukeni

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x trans reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x male reader

[akirameta84]

idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

#werewolf au #akira scribbles #<- i guess even wips can go here now lol #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #kubosai

[twinstarsies]

no quirks au, meet cute (ish), implied stalking (not bkdk)

Katsuki is standing in the store debating the merits of picking up the shitty coffee Hitoshi drinks or making the fucker get it himself with his own money when a hand slips into his seemingly out of nowhere.

"The fu—"

He looks over to see bright green eyes surrounded by freckles and a wide smile that makes his knees go a little weak. The man gives his hand a squeeze and leans into his side, and Katsuki gets a whiff of warm cologne and spearmint.

"Ah, Kacchan! There you are!" he says brightly. It's followed immediately by a low, "My name is Izuku, I'm being stalked, and your resting bitch face is absolutely terrifying. Please just go with it."

Chalk it up to his knee jerk response to a challenge being to kick its ass, or maybe his innate rage at people who choose to be assholes, but Katsuki shuts his mouth and doesn't question it further. He slips his hand from the one holding it and instead wraps it around the stranger's—Izuku's—waist, turning his head to nose at soft curls as he makes a discreet sweep with his eyes.

And there—at the end of the aisle is a skeevy-looking guy that looks like he hasn't left his mom's basement in at least five years. His beady eyes are trained on Izuku pressing close into Katsuki's side, and his skin crawls at the hunger he sees in them: dark and possessive, and not in a fun way.

His arm curls tighter around him. "I think we need to try a new brand," he says, loud enough for Creep McStalker to hear, but no more obvious than his normal volume. "Wedding prep is kicking my ass and the shit you usually drink ain't cutting it anymore. The hag's gonna rip me a new asshole if I fall asleep during the rehearsal dinner."

His impromptu fiancé snorts a laugh. "That'd be funny to see. But I guess I don't want you passing out during our vows either, so."

Katsuki just grunts in response, still watching the guy loiter by the teas. When he looks away from Izuku and meets his glare, the guy immediately turns tail and fucks off without even pretending to grab something.

As soon as he's gone, the tension leaves Izuku's shoulders, and he slumps against Katsuki.

"Oh, thank goodness," he says. He smiles gratefully at Katsuki, and wow, he's pretty when he does that. "Thank you so much! He's been following me for, like, an hour and a half now. Nothing I did got him to go away."

Katsuki pulls away with a surprising amount of reluctance. He feels strangely comfortable with Izuku tucked under his arm—he doesn't want to let him go. He clears his throat, his face feeling warm.

"'S nothin'," he shrugs. "But, like. Do you need to go to the police or some shit?"

Izuku blinks at him and then waves his hand. "Oh, yeah, I will. I managed to take a picture of him and everything, so hopefully they can, um. Find his identity and... take it from there, I guess. I don't know how that works, really. Cop dramas don't really go into detail about stalker cases. Homicides, sure, and at this point I feel like I've watched enough procedurals to be able to commit a murder and get away with it, but—"

"You're a rambler, huh," Katsuki interrupts him, eyebrows raised in amusement. Izuku snaps his mouth shut, freckled cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink as he gives him an apologetic look. He just grins and can't help but tease, "That's kind of hot."

Izuku ducks his head bashfully and playfully swats at his arm. "Don't tease me, Kacchan. It's mean."

Katsuki nudges him back, then realizes something. "What's with that nickname, anyway?" He never told Izuku his name, so how did he know—?

"Kacchan?" Izuku gestures at his chest. Katsuki looks down and sure enough, his name badge is still clipped to his shirt. Because he just got off his shift. "I read your name badge and it was the first thing that came to mind. I know it's kind of childish, but it sounds like we have history, which I figured would make a relationship between us more believable.

"N-Not that—" He stutters, and Katsuki watches him turn redder as he waves his arms around. "Not that I really thought we'd have to justify our fake relationship to the creep stalking me, but. I don't know, okay! It made sense in my brain at the time!"

Izuku's cheeks puff out as he pouts in his embarrassment, and Katsuki thinks he's the cutest thing he's ever seen. With a fond huff, he reaches up and ruffles his soft curls.

"It's fine, nerd." He grins again and winks. "I'll be your Kacchan anytime."

A certain gleam lights up those green eyes, and Katsuki senses a kindred spirit: someone who sees a challenge and takes it immediately just to come out on top.

"So," Izuku says, tone sweet as he bats his lashes, "would you be my Kacchan if I asked you out for coffee, as thanks? Not bought from the grocery store of course."

"Hell yeah," Katsuki agrees immediately. A spontaneous coffee date with a cute guy? Sign him the fuck up. His roommate can get his own shitty coffee. "You free right now? I ain't got anywhere to be."

His heart skips half a beat in excitement when Izuku takes his hand and slips their fingers together, beaming up at him with the prettiest smile. He has the passing thought that it's too bad Izuku isn't actually his fiancé—or even his boyfriend—because he kind of wants to see that smile for the rest of his life.

Izuku squeezes his fingers. "I'm yours for the afternoon, Kacchan."

Katsuki decides right then that he wants this afternoon to last forever.

#bkdk #bakudeku #twinstarsiesfics #.fic #i like weird meet cutes ok

[galitzking]

“My kisses come free”

- hello! i'm not sure how well this will do, but i wanted to share a short and sweet little piece i just finished! let me know how you like it <3

• • • • • • •

The Louisiana Hayride, a place where wanna-be singers give it their all in an attempt to attract the attention of a career manager and possible fame. Only the best of the best got the opportunity to perform there, and it just so happened that you were the daughter of one of the most well known record label owners in Memphis, Sam Phillips.

There were a few big acts lined up for the night. The first one being Hank Snow, followed by his son, Jimmie Rodgers Snow. You listened backstage to their music and tapped your foot along to the rhythm, but their music wasn't exactly your taste. The next act was a band that went by the name of "Elvis Presley, Blue Moon Boys", owned and created by your father and his partner, Marion. You had to admit, Elvis was beyond attractive. His jet black hair, those piercing blue eyes, his sense of fashion, and more than anything, those legendary moves. You had known him because of your father, you've talked to him on occasion, and there was a definite connection.

Just as you began to drift off into your fantasies of him, you were accidentally knocked into, causing you to jump and turn your head quickly, your eyes locking with none other than Elvis Presley himself. "S'cuse me, darlin', sorry. I didn't mean t'run into ya." He drawled, his accent sending shivers up and down your spine. "You're fine," You began, giving him a soft smile, "good luck out there." You said politely, his smile just as soft as he nods to you. "Thanks a bunch, honey." He drawls again, nodding to you once again before rushing out onto the stage, taking his position in front of the microphone.

You didn't really catch much of the dialogue after that, it was only when the audience began to laugh did your head snap up in confusion. You watched intensely as Elvis adjusted his pant legs, positioning his guitar better and looking from side to side before his voice rang out. "Welllllll, you may go to college, you may go to school, you may have a pink Cadillac but don't you be nobody's fool. Now baby come back, baby, come. Come back baby, come. Come back, baby, I wanna play house with you.." He sang, your eyes widening at his sudden ego boost. Before you knew it, every girl in the span of the stage was standing up and screeching with every ounce of them.

You watched in amazement as he wiggled and gyrated on stage, your eyes widening at every jerk of his hips and swift motion of his legs. Before you knew it, he was backing himself up behind the curtain, his pink suit jacket now ripped from his upper half by one of the fanatic girls. He breathed heavily as he high fived his band, giving them all huge smiles and looks of disbelief. Then he turned to you. You smiled at him, walking over with a shake of your head. "My, my, Mr. Presley. My daddy said you were great, but I didn't think you were that great." You grinned, his face turning a pretty shade of red as he shrugged and smiled back.

"Appreciate it darlin', thank you. But please, call me Elvis." He said softly, walking over to you with a small little lick of his lips. "Say, you busy the rest of the night?" He asks, your cheeks tinting pink as you peek up at him. "I don't believe so, no. Why do you ask?" You reply, his arm outstretched towards you in a gentle motion. "You mind giving me some company while we walk the fair? Or does your daddy not want you hangin' out with his clients?" He flirts, your smile growing immediately, letting a soft giggle pass your lips. "I think he'll be okay with it, long as you don't try anything funny." You flirt back, a chuckle that makes your heart beat funny passing through his lips. "Don't worry darlin', I won't. Cross my heart." He grins as you hook your arm with his, walking off the stage and down the staircase to the beauty of the fairgrounds.

You spent the next hour trying to find your way out of the hall of mirrors with him, giggling whenever he'd bump into a mirror that he was sure was the way out. His laughter at every mishap giving your butterflies. When you had finally worked your way out, you walked over to the side of the small building, your arm still hooked with his. "Y'know somethin'? I've had more fun with you tonight then i've had in a long time." He smiled, your head tilting to look up at him. "Yeah?" You smiled, turning to face him a little better. "Mhm," He hummed, his hands softly moving to your waist.

"Wanna know somethin' else?" He rasped, the corner of his lips turning into a smile as you parted your lips slightly, unable to speak. "I really, really wanna kiss you right now." He whispers, his forehead resting against yours as he speaks. "A kiss from The Elvis Presley? What's the cost?" You smirk, your hands resting on his chest as his beautiful chuckle rings out again. "I don't come cheap, but my kisses are free. 'Specially for you." He murmurs, his head tilting to the side as your hands find their way up to his cheeks, his warm, tender, soft lips connecting with yours, the passion and fire hitting you almost instantly. Love at first sight was a true thing for both of you, and it showed in that moment.

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis presley #elvis movie #fanfic #oneshot #fluff

[hualianff]

Hot Ranch-Owning Gays Ride into the Sunset

(tags: being gay on horses)

Thinking about HC who co-owns the ranch with YSH. HC mainly cares for the horses while YSH takes care of the other animals on the ranch: cows, chickens, pigs, etc.

They run a summer program where people can learn to ride horses for a fun group activity. Cue SQX bringing a group that includes HX, XL, MQ, and FX.

See HC walking around shirtless, dressed in those jeans that make his ass look good. He’s ripped and tanned, your honor. Gorgeously hot. 

You bet your ass that when HC first sees XL, he personally helps out the pretty boy from the city. He shows XL how to safely pet the horse; he helps lift XL onto the horse; HC even rides his own horse alongside XL, making casual conversation.

XL positively preens under this very attractive man’s attention. 

“Gege is a natural. Are you sure this is your first time riding?”

XL smiles sheepishly, tugging on the reins after almost losing his balance for the nth time. HC really knew how to butter someone up.

“Riding a horse? Yes, it’s my first time-” 

HC nearly chokes on his spit at XL’s clarification. Does this mean that XL has experience riding other things!?

“-and I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Oh? If HC were walking on his own two feet instead of sitting upon E’ming - who’s behaving quite well today - he would have stumbled like a fool. 

“You’re really nice to talk to,” XL finishes, directing his kind eyes toward HC.

And yeah, HC swore he would never have a thing for city boys. 

But for XL, he’s willing to make an exception.  

In the background, MQ is withering away under the sun’s scorching heat and FX is sweating buckets - he might as well go shirtless. YSH coaxes HX into being less stiff and SQX is having the time of their life vlogging everything.

After that, it’s not a surprise that XL signs up for future lessons. 

Private lessons. 

With HC. 

And the rest is history.

***

After XL’s fifth lesson when he’s super-duper sore because “who knew sitting with your legs straddled and being jostled up and down for so long could make it hard to walk??” , HC carries him back to the check-in building and offers a massage.

XL blushes to the roots of his hair as he shyly accepts. 

(YSH when she sees HC carrying XL into his private house: “simp”)

(Later on, when they finally begin dating, HC indeed gives XL many butt and thigh massages after riding practices.)

***

Over time, XL becomes a decent rider.  The horses love him too, almost as much as they love HC. Which is saying a lot because HC feeds and grooms them. 

Once, XL tries riding E’Ming.

E’ming, the cheeky bastard, starts bucking! Playfully trying to yeet XL off. 

Unfortunately, for HC’s poorly concealed crush, XL manages to stay on by grabbing the reins tight and leaning close against E’Ming’s body, swerving his hips in a way that has HC mesmerized.

(YSH walking by and snapping a picture: “that horny grip is unreal” )

***

XL brags about his boyfriend all the time to his city co-workers and sometimes fengqing but they just scoff because “a rancher as a boyfriend is so fucking lame”

Then HC visits for a week. 

And HC fits into the city scene perfectly while still maintaining his own character. Read: the sexy rancher who wears his shirts half-unbuttoned, boots that click loudly upon the pavement, long hair pulled back into a low, loose bun. 

Two eyes with startling heterochromia; one eye an aqua blue and the other a shade of brown that appears scarlet in the sunlight.

He’s tan and muscled and speaks with a slight accent in the standard dialect. 

XL is prepared for the amount of claiming he has to do. He is a city boy, after all. 

HC is more than happy to indulge in public displays of affection. 

Private displays as well. For the rest of the week, XL has a very sore back and ass. Help him. 

***

XL spends part time in the city, and part time at HC’s ranch. It fluctuates depending on his work schedule. 

Whenever XL comes back, if HC is near, he will sprint towards XL and scoop him up and twirl him around in circles.

“Gege came back!”

XL shrieks with laughter.

“I’ll always come back to my lovely San Lang.”

They hug for a solid twenty seconds.

Hualian are so so in love. HC never even dreamed of finding a lover and look, XL just came into his life and turned his world upside down !

(SQX: “you’re welcome, by the way”

HC: “go away”)

XL is just so curious and kind and compassionate and knows how to enjoy himself. What HC doesn’t fully realize is that he has made XL comfortable and loved enough to freely be himself.

XL gives HC everything HC never thought he deserved.

HC is used to being alone, but after meeting XL, he doesn’t want to be.

And he doesn't have to be.

(*Symphony by Cody Fry plays*)

***

HC and YSH are health nuts and grow most of their food themselves. 

Xl loves helping YSH tend to the gardens!

(Also…

XL cracking an egg with one hand: 😊🍳

HC and YSH: “WHAT HOW!?”)

***

Even though XL grew up in the big city, he LOVES being outdoors. So all the activities HC is used to doing alone. Hiking? Washing things by the river. Fishing. Riding horses in the open fields-

He has XL to accompany him now!

HC showing XL his favorite flower field to lay down in and gaze up at the clouds.

XL star-fishing on his back, eyes closed in bliss, laughing, flowers surrounding him. He paints a picture of perfection. HC knows this is what happiness looks like.

“OH! SAN LANG! Lemme make you a flower crown!”

***

Hualian definitely have car sex.

The aftermath…

XL: “this was definitely the most uncomfortable place to have sex at”

HC: “i dunno, we haven’t tried on a horse yet”

***

News spreads fast that the notorious lone wolf HC got himself cuffed.

Different ranchers from around had to visit and take a look. Some are in disbelief, never thought the rumors would be true. HC was so distant and short with people, who would want that?

Others are jealous. Someone tired the top gay bachelor in the area and it’s a freaking city boy?

Some have the chance of stumbling upon XL before HC when they arrive at Paradise Ranch. XL, with his shirt off, silver chain necklace hanging from his neck, and short jean shorts - easily shoveling hay.

Since when did HC hire a stable boy?

XL greets them with a bright smile and offers to walk them to the front office, assuming they need to check in to be shown around.

“Nah, we’re here for Hua Cheng. We’re buddies of his and wanted to catch up.”

And XL will be like: “I see. Let me fetch San Lang for you.”

And he jogs off, low bun gradually falling out.

(The other ranchers: “WHOMST IS THIS SAN LANG??”)

And HC arrives, dressed as liberally as XL is. 

He has very visible hickeys on his neck, which confirms that yes, this man has been getting laid on the daily.

HC pauses his conversation to tell XL: “I’ll finish with the hay. Why don’t you go in and take a bath? When I’m done here, we’ll get ready for dinner together, okay?”

XL tries to protest at first but HC shuts him up with a kiss, and a hand stroking his waist, a gesture saying “be a good boy and do as I say.”

XL finally nods, and waves his boyfriend and company off.

HC crosses his arms and smirks knowingly at his visitors.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi 

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #xie lian #hua cheng #modern au #cerdrabbles #fluff #gay horse boys

[voicesofthegrid]

VotG - Topaz Blue

A story exploring the emotions of Edward Barnes during the events of 9/11. Content warning for depiction of 9/11, mild suicidal/self-harm ideation, and emotional distress.

6 AM: BEEP BEEP BEEP BE– CLICK. My fist slams down on my alarm clock, rattling the bedside table that it sits on. I groan and roll over, covering my eyes with my forearm  to block out the beams of sunlight filtering through my curtains before grasping the covers and throwing them off of me. Another sleepless night. Must just be too much on my mind. Maybe I ought to get my apology over with today. I’ll have to think about it when I’m not still half asleep. I never make good decisions before coffee. 

6:07 AM: The shower hisses to life as I turn the knob just a hair away from the highest temperature. Wispy steam rises from the water, filling the small room with wavering clouds. 

6:29 AM: Goddamnit. Got lost in thought again. There goes my sit-down breakfast. At least I can read the paper on the train. 

6:42 AM: I adjust my hat in the hallway mirror. My eyebags are dark and heavy. 

6:50 AM: Thank god for travel mugs, huh? My brother was nice enough to have coffee ready for me as I rushed out the door. And to think we hated each other at one point. I take a sip as I sink into my seat in the subway car, snapping open today’s newspaper. Just a touch of sweetness. Exactly how I like it. 

7:33 AM: The door to my office clicks shut behind me. I hang up my coat and hat on the rack in the corner, just as I have for the past… However many years I’ve been here. I pull the shade that hangs over my window up to gaze out on the city before I start my work for the day. Nary a cloud mars the topaz blue of the sky that extends out as far as the eye can see. I glance at the World Trade Center in the distance, the two great towers that anchor the campus. They stare back at me with their thousands of tiny windows, unblinking. Judging me. I have got to apologize to those kids. I just… can’t believe how goddamn immature I’ve been. Fuck. 

8:05 AM: I tap my pen impatiently against my desk. Guilt is making it incredibly hard to focus on the task at hand. 

8:43 AM: Goddamnit. I’m not going to get anything done like this. I’ve been up and pacing around my office for the past twenty minutes. I can feel those towers with their thousands of little eyes on my back burning straight through to my soul. Fuck it. I’m going home and I’m apologizing to the kids. Work can wait. I frantically shuffle papers into my desk and lock it shut before marching over to the coat-rack in the corner of my office. I grab my hat and—

8:46 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

I wheel around. There’s a dull thump as my hat falls from my grasp. My jaw hangs open in… Shock? Awe? Terror? I don’t even… I don’t know what to call it. I can’t name it. I just feel it. 

I rush to the window. 

There on the North Tower – Wyatt’s building – Is a gaping maw of shredded steel spewing black smoke. 

Shit.

Is he hurt? What the hell caused… That? 

I rip my phone from its cradle and frantically dial home to my brother with trembling hands.

“Clarence…?” My voice breaks as I barely choke out his name. 

“Yeah, I – No, I don’t know what happened– Clarence– I– A plane? How? What?”

9:03 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

A soft gasp and a muffled sob filter through the receiver. 

I look up from my desk. I… Know… I know what must have happened but I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to see. But I force myself to look anyway. 

A gash clawed through the South Tower – Winona’s building – is spewing the same black smoke that her brother’s building is. Oh my god.

“Clarence?” I ask, trepidation thick in my throat, “Are you…?”

He sees it too. I’m not dreaming. A nightmare then, surely. I… No, no this isn’t real this is just some god-awful nightmare, my subconscious trying to teach me a lesson. 

Some… cruel trick. 

9:33 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I haven’t been able to peel my eyes off of the smoke pouring from the Towers. I have no idea where the twins are. If they’re hurt. They have to be hurt. I remember when I – No, no. Goddamnit, Ed. Don’t think about you. This is about them. They’re hurt. I hurt them. I. Fuck. They’ll be okay, right? If I survived back in ‘45, surely… 

9:35 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: They’re evacuating my building. What happened to the towers is deliberate. 

I’m not leaving.

A captain always goes down with his ship. 

If I’m next, so be it. Maybe I deserve it after what I put those kids through. 

9:38 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I tell Clarence I’m leaving. I lie. I don’t want him to worry about me. 

Click.

I keep my hand on the phone for a moment after I’ve returned it to its cradle. I wish I could tell him how much he means to me. I wish I had been a better brother. 

I go to my liquor cabinet. I pour myself a drink. The good stuff. 

9:58 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: Smoke is still pouring from the gaping wounds in the towers. I am numb. Sunken into my chair. Eyes glued to the blackened horizon in my window. My glass dangles precariously in my loose grasp. 

9:59 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: CRACK. 

The glass falls from my limp hand and shatters on the floor as I bolt upwards out of my chair.

She’s gone.

The South Tower… Winona… It… She’s… Just.

Gone. 

Hot tears well in my eyes. 

10:21 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I pace the length of my office in front of my window. I am an animal, trapped in a cage of my own making. The glass remains shattered on the floor. How long have I been pacing? When did this start? When did it all go so wrong?

10:28 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: There is a great roaring in the distance. 

The North Tower falls. 

Dominoes. A house of cards. A structure that once held the title of tallest building in the world, reduced to nothing. 

Ash. 

Wyatt is gone. Winona is gone. That wish that I had made so long ago, that awful, awful wish of just wanting them to disappear…

Here it is, come to fruition. 

Fuck. 

#writing #c: ed #c: wyatt #c: winona #c: clarence

[akampana]

“You said I had nice lips? Who says that” for Cù alter and Artoria ?

I read you’re earlier story about the two of them being friends in high school and the part about her jumping from the balcony and Scathach driving away like a mad woman was just perfect

(A/N): U have no idea how happy it makes me that ppl like my cutoria stuff its literally mostly just me out here filling up the tag ;_; aaaaaa

funny how things turned out____________

Words: 4k

Characters: Cú Chulainn Alter | Berserker, Artoria Pendragon | Saber

Ship: Cutoria

Tags: FWB to Lovers?, College AU, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Fluff with light Angst, this is as comedic as things get with me

_____________

“Arturia,” Cú voiced, extending the vowel just long enough for it to be suspicious. Five feet away, the addressee groaned with her entire being, much like she usually did after a full body workout. There was no escaping for her now, not when the tattooed delinquent used that stern, deceptively sing-songy tune. She might as well have chained herself to the couch, because come hell or high water, Arturia was not going anywhere. 

She knew exactly what he would ask before he asked it. Much as she liked to maintain the poise and grace she had grown up practicing, the business major would gladly throw it away if it meant she could hightail it out of here. All she needed was an open door. Maybe even a window. She’d survive a drop from the second floor, right? Scáthach’s house didn’t go up too high– 

“‘Turia,” the young man repeated, snapping his polished nails in front of her eyes. The tattoos that ran down his shoulders and arms rippled as he tensed, the beginnings of irritation crawling up his expression.

“Ya gonna make this difficult?”

Arturia bit her lip. She’d known Cú had a short temper long before they began…whatever this ‘not-relationship’ was, but for the most part, she hadn’t evoked that side of him too often. It helped that her presence naturally tended to project a sense of tranquility, but obviously that little talent couldn’t help her now. 

With one last longing look at the window, the woman finally shook her head, accepting her impending doom. 

“Good,” he said, bringing a half-finished cigarette back to his slightly upturned lips. Maybe it was the sadist in him, but every time he successfully coaxed his hard-headed shortstop into submission he felt like a god. Doubly so, if he earned the bonus of a pretty little blush on her cheeks. Triply so, if the aforementioned blush was a result of anger.

“Well?,” he encouraged amusedly, knocking pizza boxes, records, and several wrappers of his sheets before perching the petite ball of rage upon them. “Gonna tell me why the bitch couldn’t stop laughing all day? Her cackles hurt my ears. Like a fucking banshee.”

Arturia grimaced, trying and failing to turn away because his palm demanded she look up at him. He’d just confirmed her fears. Apparently, the news of the afternoon’s incident had traveled far enough even Cú’s clingy ex-turned-reluctant-friend had caught wind of it. Then again, she supposed Medb Bombshell might’ve had a hand in orchestrating the entire scene, considering she was all up in their business for twenty hours on a good day. She could only pray the news would fly over the entire student body’s heads, but honestly, she’d be lucky if it stayed within the confines of her college. 

“Who else have you heard from?” She was stalling.

“Arjuna, Hans, Emiya. Answer the question.” He knew she was stalling. 

Cú shoved his thumb between her teeth before she could chew on her lips again. She colored five hundred different shades of red as he stifled a low chuckle. He was only helping. There wouldn’t be much there for him to kiss later if she kept up that stupid habit.

“Come ooooon. What’s that thing ya always say?” he asked sarcastically, boldly playing with the soft muscle that lived behind her canines. “Rip the bandage off so it hurts more yada yada…”

“Nghfft–That’s not how it goes,” she shot back, smacking his hand out of her mouth like a baby batted away an offending toy. 

There was some merit to following Cú’s advice. At least the issue would finally be over with. Yes, she’d suffer for a while, but surely telling him would finally bring relief to her heart. The poor thing nearly suffered several attacks whenever someone in the vicinity pulled out a phone. Besides, she’d rather he heard the whole story from her than over the campus internet community. Damn social media and its accessibility. Damn it all to hell. 

“Do you…” the sophomore murmured, a far cry away from her usual confident tone, “Do you remember the other day? In the locker rooms?”

Cú’s grin turned feral. Oh yes, he remembered. He remembered quite well. He hated rugby (because his ex enlisted him for one), but it came with many benefits like a scholarship, an endless supply of sports apparel and Gatorade, and most importantly, keys to a large and thoroughly abused locker room that he and Arturia took full advantage of. Tuesday's itinerary even included a long and very steamy shower, if the junior recalled correctly. 

“Ya were mad yer lips got all swollen,” he answered, pure glee lighting up his ruby irises as he took another drag of his cig. The moment had been completely unplanned. Arturia had just somehow decided to visit him after a class presentation, which meant she’d been dressed in businesswear. Suits hadn’t really been a turn-on for him up until the other day, but he was glad to say that since then, he’d joined the men of culture who praised ties, slacks, and pencil skirts. Honestly, she should have known better than to show up looking all pretty when he was fresh off the field. He got so excited he had to bully the freshmen out of the showers to her great–but short-lived–disapproval . 

He hummed, reliving the pleasant memory. “Yer a real brat sometimes, y’know. I’m bloody sure I did real good sticking my tongue down your throa–” 

“Alright–Alright!” Arturia cut him off, beet red, waving her hands in front of his face. Oh, how he loved upsetting her composure. He really ought not to derive so much pleasure from getting a rile out of her–as small things tended to lash out all the more violently when cornered–but he couldn’t help it. She was so reserved most of the time. So much so that he was sure no one else had even seen the various degrees of her happiness, but he was getting sidetracked. 

His not-girlfriend sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you remember that, then I am quite certain you recall why I had to leave right after,” she paused, not really expecting Cú to have paid that much attention in their high. When he gave her a stare blank as a piece of bond paper, she said, “Jeanne invited me for an pre-recorded radio interview for one of her electives earlier that day. I accepted, thinking she had selected me as an interviewee so I could speak about my major.”

Arturia then paused and reached into her skirt pocket for her phone, where a video was already waiting when she unlocked the screen. Clearly, she liked the idea of showing him the said video as much as she liked accounting, which was…well, not much. 

“They hadn’t the time to properly brief me, thanks to our…rendezvous, so I was rather unfortunately put on the spot when they asked the questions,” she explained, dropping the phone into his waiting hand. She was shaking like a leaf, something very uncharacteristic of her, but Cú’s curiosity trumped his concern. He pressed play. 

The clip was only about a few minutes long. In frame was Jeanne, sitting across Arturia at what seemed to be one of the university’s many cafés. It was clear that his jade-eyed partner had tried her best to freshen up her appearance, but with her damp hair, skewed tie, and lack of concealer on her neck, it was clear she hadn’t done the best job. Still, to most, including her interviewer, Arturia could pass for being extremely lacking in sleep, hence the disheveled mien. More discerning eyes, however, observed her subtly puffy lips and knew it was only another set of lips that could make them that way.

“Oh?” Cú snickered, hardly believing there existed solid evidence of the straight-laced Arturia Pendragon getting some. And fresh out of it too. No wonder Medb was hysterical. 

“It gets worse,” Arturia groaned, tucking her head into her arms and knees like a perched bird. “So much worse.”

“So, Ms. Pendragon, you are in a relationship, correct?” the phone chimed in Jeanne’s unmistakable French accent. She’d asked it just loud enough that half the café was suddenly at attention, including a familiar pink-haired blogger. 

“I wh–Jeanne? I believed this was a serious interview, I–” Arturia quickly shot back, but her voice was drowned out by the former’s shy and equally embarrassed insistence. 

“It is, okay? Please a-answer the question!” she interjected, basically force-feeding Arturia three mouthfuls of microphone while the latter tried to swat the offending device away.

“Yes? N-No–I…do not know?!” she hurriedly answered, obviously surprised at how strong the devout catholic had gotten over the last few months. What in the Lord’s name did they do at Christian Youth Camp? Arturia, still physically exhausted from her…prior activities barely had a chance.

“Oui,  then,” Jeanne insisted, and for some reason Cú felt his heart skip a beat, even if Arturia wasn’t really…hm. “Moving on!”

However disarmed Jeanne’s statement made him, it had done the same to video Arturia tenfold. She was a stuttering, red faced mess, the pixels on her cheeks practically the neon of night clubs. Even her present self, who was deep in her seventh unladylike groan of the day glowed a red he would never wear, and he was the one sporting crimson face tattoos and an obscene amount of piercings. To make the situation worse, the café’s entire customer base decided to coo and whistle at her. Poor Arturia looked like a tea kettle right at the brink of boiling. Any moment she was gonna squeal. 

Over the hollers, Jeanne apologetically continued the interview as Arturia tried her best not to hyperventilate. This was way too much emotion to handle for one day. She’d blown her quota out of the water. It was back to stoicism for the next week, creative electives be damned.

“What do you like most about your boyfriend?” the frenchwoman asked, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to be revealing anything about her interviewee’s sexuality, and certainly not about Cú. 

“I-I mean girlfri–S.O.! Your S.O.!” she followed up, smacking her head. Arturia probably wouldn’t be mad at her for this, but still, her guilt suddenly skyrocketed. Her last fumble finally pushed Arturia over the edge. Her kettle was boiling. Glass overflowing. Balloon bursting. Their uninvited audience was now at the edge of their seats cheering for the poor business student to answer.

Brain sufficiently fried, Arturia scrambled to for a lie, brain desperately latching onto the closest available memory. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Cú screamed, doubling over onto his dusty carpet with two tattooed arms clutching his rapidly undulating torso. The phone had fallen from his hands, forgotten in the sudden out-of-character fit that had forcibly overtaken the tall delinquent’s body like a possession. Tears began to fall from his eyes as he banged his fists on the floor, trying and failing to suck in enough air to breath. 

“You–HA!--You said I had nice LIPS?!?! WHO SAYS THAT?!?” he shouted at his horribly cringing not-girlfriend, chuckles erupting between every word. He was pointing at her like a kid bully now, rolling around on the floor like an idiot, sharp teeth on full display. And like the bullied, Arturia puffed up her cheeks and groaned. 

“You know, Cú,” she warned, her serious tone completely flying over the head of the manic wheezing hyena currently making hilarious love to the carpet. “You do hold some fault in this situation–”

“Why? ‘Cause of my nice lips?” he countered, breathless but still shaking from the adrenaline rush. 

“Nice lips. Nice lips. Nice lips,” her traitorous phone chimed in unhelpfully in her voice, sending the rugby team’s ace onto another level of mad glee. For the nth time, Arturia groaned. 

...

Later, when he had finally calmed down (special thanks to Scáthach for banging at his door with a noise complaint), Arturia found herself tucked under a stone-faced, but obviously happy Cú, who had convinced her the exams were a worry for another day by literally pinning her under his weight. He was still replaying the stupid video, but the hilarity had long passed. 

“Yer fucking lucky this was a campus radio gig, shortie. Ya looked like an ugly tomato,” the older one teased, flicking her nose with a polished fingernail. 

Arturia smacked his hand away, but to his dismay, she didn’t take the bait. A shame, he was looking forward to her scathing, hifalutin, meticulously worded comebacks. She also tended to speak with a thicker Welsh accent when she was annoyed. Instead, she looked over to the side, refusing to meet his eyes.

“It was funny, ya gotta admit,” he said, irritation rising as he realized he might have to apologize. He hated apologies. He didn’t make fun of her that much, did he?

“‘Tisn’t that, Cú,” she replied, eliciting a subtle sigh of relief from the unwilling jock. 

“Ya gonna make me ask?” he muttered at her silence. 

Arturia bit her lip. He really had to get her out of that habit. The poor flesh wouldn’t be able to stand both her fidgeting and his teeth. Sighing, she met his eyes with serious forest orbs. It was the kind of gaze she used during her presentations in class, but softer. Fonder. 

“I thought you’d be more cross with me,” she admitted, glancing at the phone to clarify what she meant. Honestly, he had no idea what the brit was on about. Logically, she should have been pissed off, considering he hadn’t let the issue go for what, three hours? Four?

As he met her gaze with one uncomprehending, she lightly pushed on his chest. They both sat up, facing each other on Cú’s rickety bed. 

“You were adamant about not wanting to be attached to me when this started. No labels, we agreed,” she said, putting her phone, with the interview thumbnail still displayed upon it, between them. “This interview implies otherwise.”

Cú’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Even if Arturia had not directly confirmed whether he was her boyfriend or not, Jeanne’s poor phrasing of the question certainly alluded to it. She was right. He just…didn’t notice. It wasn’t that he was too caught up in the comedy to realize it either. They must have watched the video at least twenty times now. Twelve repetitions in, he wasn’t even audibly chuckling anymore. 

He should have noticed. Relationships had been a touchy subject for him following the possessive disaster that was his last. Even though he’d forgiven the ostentatious pinkette following her decision to finally see a shrink instead of terrorizing men, he couldn’t forget how…controlled he felt back then. After Medb, it had been one night stands, fleeting fancies he cut off before he could get too attached, and a bunch of other people he didn’t even remember. 

Arturias recounting of their agreement, though brief, was rather suitable. It had been a few weeks after Cú (his older brother, not himself, who knew Arturia through his boyfriend) had introduced them at a frat-hosted formal dinner. Before they even had their foot in the door, he slammed down a full dictionary’s worth of words detailing his boundaries and what the two of them wouldn’t be. Frankly, Cú was surprised the short girl didn’t run away that second. Hell, he still couldn’t believe she came back when he texted the following night. And again the next week. Before he knew it, he was a junior and she was still around.

Now, she didn’t even have to knock when he invited her to his house. He climbed through her dorm window. She brought him soup when he got sick. He got her pizza. She helped him study. He took her to his games. They watched movies. They got groceries together. They both sucked at cooking. 

Fuck. Had he been tricked into a relationship? 

“Are you angry at me after all?” she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. As red clashed against green, he realized he was a complete fool for ever letting that thought cross his mind. He hadn’t been deceived at all. Arturia was too stupidly good to even attempt such a thing. She kept Jeanne’s devout catholic tushie in her posse, for goodness’ sake. Even if she somehow hated him, he doubted the blonde would ever manipulate him like that.

So what, then? Had his brother set him up? Was this all some elaborate plan Medb concocted to coax him back into her arms? Some drama Hans’s theater friend had arranged? Or maybe... 

Maybe Cú had just stumbled across the kind of person that he wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with–that he wanted to be in a relationship with. Everything had just fallen into place so naturally, he never stopped to question where this…this thing was going.

“No,” he stated after a tense period of silence. His attempts at nonchalance failed miserably. “Wasn’t yer fault, idiot. I ain’t blaming ya for that.”

Come to think of it, he’d never actually asked the tiny woman across from him her own opinion on coupling up. He’d just shoved his own views into her hands a year ago and she accepted them. Good god, he was getting a migraine from all this nonsense. Since when did he care so much anyway? He wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a solution to his cravings. 

Then, the scene suddenly dawned on him. Arturia was here this afternoon because he had asked her to come, but it wasn’t a booty call. Hell, it had been hours and he hadn’t even thought of coaxing her clothes off. He’d invited Arturia because he wanted her around, because he wanted to hear what Medb told him about straight from her mouth, because he wanted to see how she’d react. Why would that have mattered to him? Unless he–unless… 

Oh, fuck.

“‘Bout you? Aren’t ya even a bit pissed off you’ll be known as my “girlfriend”?” he asked, not knowing why sitting this close to her suddenly felt awkward, when he’d literally been in her pants just the other day. She tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy, as if the answer should have been obvious to him. 

“That is not what you want, of course I’d be quite irate–”

“But what do you want?” he interrupted impatiently, refusing to break their eye contact. She was such a pain sometimes, this tiny girl, always going on and on about what was right and what was proper, and what was appropriate and what was polite, jeez. Even in his less rebellious alternative days he wasn’t quite so straight and narrow. 

His question made her stiffen, and for the first time in the many months he’d known her she looked like she wanted to curl in on herself like a wilting flower. 

“I do not think it wise to discuss this,” she answered hurriedly, shuffling off of the bed to find her sneakers. “We have made the terms of this arrangement clear before. I apologize for bringing it up–”

Cú grabbed her wrist with the same grip he used on footballs, preventing any chance of escape. Even when the blonde pulled on her arm, she knew it was futile. She should have known better than to broach the subject. She’d just been too distracted by the video she didn’t realize she’d tripped into her own trap. It was impossible to get away now. 

Arturia quashed the giddy feeling that bubbled to the surface when they locked eyes. It had been getting stronger the last month, almost too strong to bear. Logic told her she’d be wise to end this “arrangement” with him before it got worse, but like an idiot, she stayed. 

When they started this all, she only agreed because she didn’t think she could fall for him. He was crass and rude and terribly serious and on top of all that, he was the younger brother of one of her friends. Even physically, they looked like the worst match, with his alternative style and her plain preferences. But that also made him a good secret. No one would ever suspect anything between them, and she could deal with the aftermath of her last relationship in peace. 

Within the third month, however, she’d stopped thinking of her ex entirely, even if she still saw the archer quite often in athletic meets. On the sixth, her attention had shifted completely, the grayish eyes that haunted her dreams replaced by piercing ruby ones. On the ninth, Cú had become more than a bandage on a wound, or a salve to a burn. His room had legitimately become her home too, untidy as he liked to keep it. 

She’d been wrong and terribly shallow to evaluate him with what she saw on the surface when they first met. He was a soul that lived in the shadow of his brother, a bit bitter, but still seeking for the chance to prove himself. He wasn’t unkind, just frank and a little harsh with his criticism. Like her, he was still trying to redefine who he was after being with someone who thoroughly changed him. It made him grumpier than most, but who could blame him for that? She, of all people, who was still trying to unlearn the impossible desire to be who others expected her to be, knew exactly how difficult finding oneself could be.

In knowing him, in learning more about him, in spending more time with him, her feelings had grown without her consent, slowly spreading throughout her consciousness like grass in a fertile field. And though she’d kissed him more times than she could count, though she knew his body more than she knew her own…she began to crave holding his hand and staying for breakfast the morning after, and evenings like this, where they simply enjoyed each other’s company without the passionate need to reach for the rubbers in his bedside table. 

But that’s not what he wanted.

“I want something you can not give me,” she declared, pulling on her arm to get free, “And I accept that–”

“Damn it,” he interrupted, roughly yanking her toward him til he captured her mouth with his. His arms locked around her back as he pulled her body as close as he could. He tangled his fingers in her hair, anchoring her to him so she couldn’t leave. 

“Damn you, shortie.” His voice was low, the words whispered between heated breaths and quiet whimpers. Arturia’s will to escape melted like ice in the summer sun, her attempts at pushing at his chest whittling away with every moment that passed. Cú didn’t know what it was, but something had reached forward and latched onto his heart and hers, never again to let go. As he deepened the kiss, he knew his life was about to change once more, irreparably, irrevocably, but he knew neither of them had the strength to resist it. 

“Give…” Cú huffed breathlessly, pulling away till only their foreheads touched. Arturia stared at him with eyes full of guilt and sorrow, both emotions he hoped he’d never evoke in her again. But there was love in her sea-green eyes, Cú could feel it, warm as she had been to him all this time, he was sure of it. 

The man spent so long wallowing in the murky depths of his last relationship, he didn’t recognize the sunshine disguised in pressed clothes and blonde hair. Now that he did, he wasn’t letting her go. He didn’t care if it was selfish. 

“...Give me time,” he demanded, weaving his fingers in between hers. 

The junior knew how unfair he was being, asking her to wait, but it was necessary. Cú wasn’t ready. He had a mountain of leftover baggage to unpack before he could even think of asking her to be his. They’d been helping each other out in their arrangement, but there was no way in hell he was saddling her with the brunt of his issues. 

With her free hand, Arturia touched the soft pads of her fingers to his lips, soothing the rough, chapped skin. She could hardly believe this conversation had all started with a stupid video. It seemed to matter so little now. 

“Alright,” she whispered, unknowingly echoing his thoughts. She still had more healing to do herself, but she was glad she didn’t have to do it alone. She moved slowly, leaning in for another kiss. “Besides…I believe I need some time too.”

________

wheeee hope you liked this! im super fond of college au cutoria. it just seems to fit them so well. Also omg im happy u still remember that fic, anon its been a while since i posted that ahahaha

anyway, hope yall are doing great, get some sunshine, stay healthy mahdudes

-akampana

#oblivious idiots asks #fate #fgo #fate grand order #arturia pendragon #saber #artoria pendragon #arturia #cu chulainn #cu chulainn alter #fanfic #fate fanfic #cu alter #berserker #cutoria #cuturia

[rohankama]

Penny drabbles

Sex ed was a fucking nightmare.

Every single child of the Gene was stupidly singled out in each class. The messenger, long nosed and poised with an air of authority that the teachers could never seem to pull off, called out their names one by one, hardly glancing away from his clipboard when they approached. He simply handed them a red card, detailing the time and classroom in which they were to attend a ‘special class’ just for ‘monsters like you and me’.

It was such targeted bullshit.

The worst thing, besides the many eyes staring and the pointed snide whispers, was that by the time she was supposed to start learning she was born a freak of monsterkind, she already fucking knew it.

---

“The Family is having a little get-together this evening, my love.”

Her mother sweeps into her room, all smiles and perfectly crafted face. Penny watches from the bed as the shade of her mother darts to the closet, shifting through it without so much as a glance her way.

“We would have told you as soon as you got home from school, but your Fathers meeting went on so much longer than we’d anticipated!”

Penny stares at her mothers back, now covered in a glittering silver sheath of a dress. Clearly seeing in her minds eye the marks her father’s nails had left while she sat on his lap, moaning to an audience of salivating men. 

Yeah, right. Sure was quite the meeting.

A breathless twitter of a laugh as her mother shoves all the normal clothes ruthlessly to the side, revealing the gems she sought, glittering swathes of fabric normally shoved as far to the side of the closet as possible. Penny grimaces, and looks away.

Dull eyes turn down to her lap, long brown locks falling to either side, concealing her from mother as she continues to patter on and on. The pencil and notebook in hand blur in her vision, and she closes her eyes tight. 

She’s just so tired. Tired of trying to keep up with school. Tired of keeping half an eye on her door while she worked. Half afraid some frenzied friend of her parents’ would burst in. More afraid her drunk father would call her out to play maid in the aftermath. She really, really didn’t want to dress-up and play the perfect little darling of a budding lady when she felt like anything but.

“Why do we still bother going anyway?” She mutters, throat tight. “They all know we’re pretending, so, why do we still have to bother?”

A hard hand digs into her shoulder, and she flinches back, head snapping up. Meeting her mothers eyes, still tinged with magenta light, as she shoves a dress into her hands.

“It isn’t pretend, Penelope. We are Blooks, one of the oldest, most influential families in the underground.” Her mother smiles at her, and delicately tucks one of her long locks behind her pointed ear. “We deserve a place at the table.”

Mothers hand lifts from her shoulder as she flits away, prattling on about something or another; Penny isn’t listening. It doesn’t matter. If mother actually needed her, she’d call her fucking name or something.

She carefully slots her pencil and notebook into her inventory before getting up and standing before her little-used vanity, holding the dress up before her. Yellow, with three layers of frills. She snarls at her reflection before she gets to changing.

‘We are Blooks’, what a joke. As soon as Dad’s business finally dies, they’ll kick us to the wayside, and the only fucking reason you married dad will go out the window. 

Whatever. At least I’ll get dinner.

---

She gets her dinner alright.

To bad she immediately wants to vomit it all up.

As soon as they get home, she’s in her room, only taking a moment to lock the fucking door and shove a chair under the knob before ripping that fucking dress off. Someone shouts at her, but the roar in her ears drowns it out. It didn’t matter. Buttons pop off, ribbons flutter haphazardly to the ground along with strands of hair. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter.

Stripped down to her underwear, she rips the longest coat she owns out of her closet and throws it on, shaking hands fumbling with the zipper. The voices outside her door are ignored as she lurches for her window, the zipper finally catching, pulled up to her chin.

She climbs her bed, shoves the window open, and hurls herself onto the fire escape.

The air outside is cold, and she gasps. But she doesn’t stop, scrambling up the side of the old metal walkway, dangling high above the streets below. She pulls herself up, and up, and up, and up, until finally she reaches the roof. Gravel digs into her feet, and then her ass, as she collapses, panting and shaking in the chill of the night.

Artificial stars glitter high above, the hollow dome of the mountain switched to nightmode. Faint red light from the elevators slowly rising and falling is the only thing that moves up there. She stares at the slowly moving light and lets her breathing calm. Then, slowly, she lays back against the gravel, the hard concrete, and unzips her coat.

Her shell was built to insulate her, but the cold still bites. The underwear and stockings don’t do much at all; she shivers, feeling every inch of exposed ‘skin’ with more clarity than she’s ever done before.

Curling on her side, she flicks her tiny tail. Rubs her legs together. Reaches up and traces the outline of pointed ears. The jut of her chin and her stupid little nose. Eyelashes flutter against her palms before she presses against her eyes.

Everything’s all up and settled with the crafter- oh, I don’t understand how all this metalwork mumbo jumbo works, but isn’t this blueprint simply stunning? We’ll make you into quite the lovely young lady, dearie, just you wait and see: Grandma never disappoints.

She wants to scream, to shout and cry and rage, but all of it is lodged in the back of her throat. 

Her throat for now. Until her gene kicks in.

“I don’t want this stupid gene, I don’t want a new shell, why was I even born if all they fucking want is a GODDAMN DOLL!!”

There’s her scream, finally, ripping her throat open on the way out. Fists slam against the roof as she glares up at the fake stars glittering away high, high above. She screams and grabs a fistful of grit and throws it up at those stupid pretty lights, and only manages to get dirt in her eyes.

She flinches at the pain and rubs furiously at her eyes with the sleeve of her filthy coat. There are no tears. She will not cry.

Stupid, stupid stupid... why did everything have to be so fucking stupid...

#candid kit (penny);; #abuse tw;; #drabble;;

[executionofficial]

Entry #2: Tails

The speakers let out the classic "SEGA!" And the nostalgia hit me. Hearing that sound again brought back so many good memories, back when life was simpler and I didn't have to worry about the struggles of adult life. The title screen appeared and i started humming the cheerful upbeat music. But when the screen faded to black, there was a small color palette glitch. Everything that was previously white turned to black, i.e Sonic's eyes, the reflection in the water etc. I simply brushed it off as the hardware was quite old and was bound to have a few bugs here and there. I was greeted with another surprise when I loaded into green hill zone as... Tails? I came to the conclusion that this was a hack of some kind. I've seen tons of these across the internet so this rationalization came quick. Besides, I've always wanted to play as a different charecter in Sonic 1 so I thought this was kinda cool. I took a quick screenshot so I could show Kyle when I get his new number. I continued to do this throughout my playthrough.

I found another oddity when I reached the end post. Sonic was there tapping his foot like in his idle animation but his back was facing tails. And behind him was the mutilated corpse of a flicky. The poor things head was ripped clean off and there was puddle of blood beneath both it and Sonic. This must be one of those edgy horror hacks with all the gore and jumpscares. I approached Sonic but before I could touch him he quickly lunged at me with a loud screech. For a split second, I saw his face. It had the same black eyes that the sonic on the title screen had and he was smiling from ear to ear. When he made contact with me he disappeared and the entirety of green hill bursted into flames and Tails was thrown backwards, so I tapped the right arrow to force Tails to get back onto his feet. Not going to lie, the jumpscare got me good.

Whoever made this was clearly talented. The animated fire in the background was very smooth and lively. Tails even had unique shading for the level. I was genuinely impressed with it. Speaking of Tails, he had a concerned look on his face. He almost looked fearful. Honestly I can't blame him. If I was in that situation I would be pissing my pants too. The level was just one straight line with occasional bumps In the terrain. It went on for a while until I heard a laugh. And I don't mean the usual even laugh that villian characters have. It sounded every robotic, almost like an instrument. The closest thing I can compare it to is Kefka's laugh from final fantasy. The laugh was followed by the drowning theme. I've always hated the drowning theme. Once you heard that theme, you knew sonic was about to die. But this time I didn't get that feeling. I know your not gonna believe this, hell I wouldn't either if I hadn't experienced it first hand, but this time it felt like my life was in genuine danger. Like something was actually posing a threat to my life. After the drowning theme started playing the rings, score, lives and time counter all collectively changed to "RUN" in Bright red. I then followed the games advice and booked it. That's when I saw him. Sonic was running after me. But not with his usual cartoon-ish run. He was running like a normal person, with an arm outstretched to grab hold of Tails. I tried as hard as I could to run faster than him without my controller snapping in half, but he just kept getting closer and closer. Until he grabbed hold.

He snatched Tails up by his namesake and then tore them off with blood splattering on the ground. as he did this, I heard the sound of flesh tearing followed by tails screaming in pain. The scream gave me chills. It sounded so genuine. Like someone who was being tortured. The screen then cut to black and faded into a new image

The image was animated and looped every so often. There was nothing special about it, just sonic swaying from side to side while the fire moved in the background. Text appeared on screen with a sort of strobe effect. And, with my bad luck, I got one of the frames where the text wasn't there. The text read:

"You're too slow

Would you like to try again?"

They didn't give me any choices so I simply pressed start and the image faded away. I was then greeted with the title card:

"Charcoal Zone"

The level appeared to be the aftermath of the previous one. The ground was burnt and had no grass at all on it. And there was a large cloud of smoke in the air with rain coming out of it which, I assume, is what put out the fire.

Unlike the previous level, there was actual obstacles to avoid. There were platforms, bottomless pits and occasionally dead animals. The animals were completely scorched and incredibly aggressive. Their a.i was similar to that of the Newtrons from Sonic 1. Whenever they saw me they would start flying twords me. Luckily, they were incredibly easy to defeat. All I needed to do was jump onto them and they would die. Obviously, when they died they didnt explode into an animal but instead just fell to the ground like a real animal with their heads smashed in. Occasionally, a thunderbolt would shoot out of the clouds and light up the sky. They couldn't harm me or anything, I just thought it was a cool detail. As the level went on, the clouds and rain started to get more and more red-ish. And then he came back.

Sonic had teleported behind Tails and lifted him into the air by his throat. He did it so fast that I could hear Tails physically yelp in surprise. He tried desperately to escape until a lightning bolt came from the clouds and exploded the top of his head. The screen then cut to black as I heard the same laugh from earlier.

The black faded from the screen and I was greeted with a save select menu. There were only three save files, each of them having the faces of main Sonic characters inside them. Tails file had a rusty border, and his head icon was of his corpse. The background appeared to be fog that slowly slid across the background. The heck was cool and all, but I wanted to play an actual Sega game. I took the cartridge out and popped in ristar.

Surprisingly, this game was different as well. Not just different, but unplayable. As soon as I popped in the new cartridge this screen showed up. I couldn't go past it or even interact with the image at all. Only stare at this eyeless, bleeding Ristar. Is it possible to hack a console? I figured it must be if things like this could happen. I didn't bother trying VectorMan. If It can effect Ristar it sure as hell can effect VectorMan. So, I put the Sonic cartridge back in the console and continued my playthrough.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sega sonic #video games #sega genesis #creepypasta #creepy #sonic exe

[afoolandathief]

Some nasty, gory stuff + heartburn

[ID: An image of three blood bags in shades of red and black; white letters with red shading say "Something Wicked by afoolandathief." End ID.]

Caz slumped into a chair and sipped from the glass.

“Think you need some new material, Temo,” he said. He drained the rest of the blood. “Damn, I wish this was fresher.”

“Eduardo said this is just an appetizer,” Tala said. “Apparently whatever the main course is will be part of his big presentation.”

“We get to sit through his presentation first, fucking delightful,” Caz said. He used his foot to steady himself as he tipped the chair back onto two legs. “Is this everyone?”

“Well, Annette usually doesn’t show up for these things,” Tala said, the corners of her lips quirking up slightly. “But who knows, maybe if she finds out you’re here -”

“She better not, Tala,” Caz said, raising an eyebrow at her, his voice suddenly lower and sharper.

He stood up and attempted to fill his glass from one of the man’s arms. Blood oozed feebly from the cut.

“Oh, this is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered, before ripping the entire limb off at the shoulder with a wet, snapping sound. He fell back in his chair, stretching his jaw wide open until his fangs unhinged. He plunged them in at the elbow joint and sucked wetly from the cuts.

Tala and Temo exchanged a look over Caz’s head.

“So, we’re just whipping our fangs out whenever, now?” Temo asked.

Tala sighed. In the chair nearby, her legs crossed and uncrossed themselves.

“Well, what can you expect from a serf who never learned any manners?” she asked.

Jade kept her face stiff and still, as if she were holding a good hand. It was satisfying to hear someone else found Caz’s dining habits disgusting.

Caz stood again to fling the arm onto the pile of bodies.

“I have manners,” he said, stifling a small burp with his handkerchief as he wiped his mouth. “But I’m not going to starve myself over etiquette. Not when I’m killing myself to get a meal half the time.”

“Figured Gino still had plenty of marks to keep you satisfied, vampire for hire,” Temo said.

“Business has been slow,” Caz replied. He was now fishing a finger in the dead man’s eye socket, wrenching the eyeball from it and snapping the trailing optic nerve with a twisting motion.

“You ever have one of these?” he asked. “Most organs I can’t keep down, but these are nice and soft.”

“Hinayupak, that’s disgusting,” Tala said, her own trailing organs shaking like windchimes as she shuddered.

Caz shrugged, popping the eyeball in his mouth before sucking the blood and viscera off his fingers.

Temo sat in a chair opposite from him and looked over at Jade.

“Don’t know why you’re complaining, Caz, when you clearly have something saved for later right over there.”

Caz glanced over at Jade, finally acknowledging her for what seemed to be the first time since they entered the room.

“Oh, her,” he cleared his throat, then fished out a grin. “She’s with me for different reasons.”

Tala cast her eyes away with a disgusted scoff. Temo stared at Jade with a strange mix of interest and pity and shrugged.

“Well, Caz, I guess you’re always tearing into someone, one way or another,” he said.

It was dark, but Jade could make out the faintest shade of pink traveling up Caz’s neck and ears before he let out an almost-reflexive laugh. It increased in pitch and frequency as he stood and looped an arm around Temo.

“What can I say? I always like ‘em -”

He stopped and doubled over, gripping his chest as his eyes bulged in his head.

“Caz,” Temo said. “You alright?”

“No,” Caz squeaked out, tears running down his face. “I — I think I’m having a heart attack.”

Temo looked over to Tala for assistance, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“It’s probably just heartburn,” she said. “That’s what you get for eating too fast.”

Jade allowed herself a hint of a smirk. It was heartburn, but that wouldn’t stop Caz from being dramatic.

“No,” he gasped. “God — my whole chest is on fire — I’ve been cursed.”

“Who would curse you?” Tala asked.

Still hunched over, Caz turned his head to glare at Jade, who widened her eyes instead of grinning like she wanted to.

“No one, I guess,” he finally got out.

More Something Wicked info here

This excerpt's song is Maneater (Blue Eyed Blondes) — Full playlist here

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @author-a-holmes, @avian-writes, @diphthongsfordays, @drippingmoon, @ellierenae, @faelanvance, @joaniejustwokeup, @leiwritess, @mjayatlas, @purplezebraproductions, @rhymingteelookatme, @thegreatobsesso, @thelaughingstag, @vylequinne, @writing-is-a-martial-art

General taglist (ask to be +/-): @jezifster

🦇🩸✨

#my writing #writeblr #something wicked #jade shaw #caz mraz #tw: language #tw: suggestive #tw: blood #tw: gore #scheduled