i really gotta give it up for the elves of mirkwood for actually fighting off the giant spider invasion to save the woods cause if that was me i woulda just burnt the entire fucking forest down
not edited, mdni, almost nsfw, the word cock || 515 words
bakugou glances up from his book when you roll slowly onto your back, stretching in the sun like a cat. the duvet under you shifts and moves with you, he brings his foot closer to himself so you have more room. your eyes squeezed shut, hands tightly wound in fists, toes curling in your socks. he adjusts his boxers when you let a little squeak out at the peak of your stretch, eyes back on the pages. pushing his glasses up, he flicks to the next page.
not a minute later he feels your hand on his calf, tracing the muscle through his sweatpants. bakugou clears his throat, your figure mostly covered by his book except for your arm thrown over your head and your feet dangling off of the bed.
he stares at the word at the top of the page when your touch creeps up to his knee. the warmth of your hand feels so much hotter than the sun glaring at him through the window. the page becomes blurry when he focuses on the small circles you’re leaving on his leg, bakugou blinks the sentences back into existence. he can only see one word.
need
need
need
ne-
“baby,” you breathe, deft fingers creeping over the top of his book. you only bring it down enough for your gazes to meet. he stares at the sun swirling around your eyes, the slow growing of your pupils as you stare at him. bakugou feels warmth swirl up his spine, and he knows he’s been caught in your gaze. you haven’t even said anything yet and he’s trapped, mind marooned in the honey sea of you.
his fingers grip tighter around the book when the corners of your eyes crinkle, knowing exactly which smile you’re wearing right now.
your hand trails over to his, rubbing his fingers idly and keeping eye contact with him, “do you wanna?” you say when running your knuckles against his.
a hum crawls through the caverns in his chest, echoing through his head, feeling far away and close. “hmm?”
you laugh and put your middle finger in the groove of his book, gradually closing it, bakugou closing it with you. you glance at the book before you put it down next to him. “268.” you whisper and tap the side of his nose as you move closer to him, “remember that.”
“what?” he mutters back, staring into your eyes when your noses are touching. hands starting at your shoulders and massaging their way down to your hips, pulling you closer.
bakugou watches you bite your lip to not laugh, a glance towards his book is the only answer. he’s about to ask what you’re thinking about when you lightly pinch the side of his neck.
“m fuckin’ horny katsuki.”
your hands resting on his collarbones, he stares at you for a moment before flaring his nostrils, it’s his turn to laugh. a chuckle rumbles his chest, vibrating against your elbows.
“good,” his hands reach down to your ass, squeezing and bringing you right above his hardening cock, grinning when you laugh, “-me, too.”
Ok so, here’s a funky fact: in the early evolution of fish, the claspers (reproductive organs still present in modern sharks) actually began as a genuine third pair of limbs. Sooo what if instead of becoming purely reproductive, the claspers instead developed into full on legs.
Basically what I’m saying here is six-finned fish -> hexapedal early tetrapods -> hexapedal temnospondyls -> hexapodal tiny weirdo arboreal dendrerpetids that develop membranes to glide -> amphibian dragons
they have little grabby hands and spurt venom out of their mouths and they are my precious new babies
He was exhausted. Then again, it was Shiro; when wasn’t he exhausted? It wasn’t as if his sleep schedule had ever really been particularly good. But this was a bone-deep fatigue, the kind that permeates all of your senses and makes every movement feel like a battle. Either something was wrong, or Shiro had seriouslyoverdone it.
As he swiped his key past the sensor and the door of his flat whirred open, he really wasn’t sure one way or the other. It was well past midnight, and a cursory glance at his watch said it was definitely past 2AM. His flat was dark, though, and it was hard to see too much. Shiro leaned his satchel up against the wall and tugged his boots off, nudging them to the wall with the side of his foot before he started up the little hall. First stop was the bathroom, where he fumbled around in the dark for a glass of water to take his meds with; then, the bedroom.
Despite the darkness, Shiro could faintly make out the outline of the form currently occupying the far side of his bed. It was more than big enough for them both, of course, and Shiro would be lying if the presence wasn’t at least a little comforting.
Shiro undid the buttons of his blazer and shrugged it off, leaving him in his pants and under-shirt. While his belt wouldn’t exactly be comfortable, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Shiro leaned one knee on the edge of the mattress and leaned down, only letting his body rest once he had firmly settled his head against the warm, sleepy mass on the far side of his bed.
Almost as soon as Shiro had gotten comfortable, there was movement.
“Shiro?” Came the sleep-gruff voice as Keith craned his head up over the blankets. Upon getting no response, Keith huffed out a soft groan and leaned over to his nightstand, where he tapped his lamp on. The light immediately had him squinting though he turned back to find Shiro laying prone, still in his uniform (or the majority of it, anyway).
The sight may have been endearing, if not for the worry it brought. Shiro had clearly worked himself to the point of exhaustion; concern gnawed at Keith, only amplified as he brushed a hand through Shiro’s hair and found it damp with sweat, and his partner radiating heat. Abnormal heat, Keith noted as he began to shift his legs from underneath Shiro.
It gained a groan, at least, as Keith moved to sit on his knees and cradle Shiro’s head in his lap. That was a sign of life, at least - though Keith couldn’t help but scold himself mentally for thinking in such drastic terms.
“Hey, Shiro,” He said gently, fingers once again stroking through Shiro’s sweat-damp hair. All it did was elicit a soft groan, and Shiro nuzzled his face a little further into Keith’s quilt-covered lap. “Shiro,” He tried again. “Come on, wake up a little for me.”
Shiro finally stirred enough to lift his head, shifting his weight onto his good shoulder so he could blink up at Keith.
“Why’d you wake me?” Shiro asked.
“You’re feverish.“
That only gained a small hesitation, before Shiro nodded and let himself rest back into his makeshift pillow. “’M exhausted.”
“Not surprised,” Keith said softly, his hand gravitating to Shiro’s forehead. “You’re really burnin’ up.”
Upon getting nothing more than an absent sounding hum, Keith rolled his eyes. His fingers worked through Shiro’s sweaty bangs, fingertips focusing on massaging circles into the roots in an act that he only hoped was comforting.
“Sleep, then,” He bid quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”
Whumpee wearing oversized hoodies/sweaters to hide the bandages and wraps covering their chest
White hot pain that explodes through their chest when they cough or sneeze and it makes their eyes burn with tears
They’re reminded how shallowly they’ve been breathing only when they spontaneously take a deep breath and the deep ache flares as they feel the bones shift
It hurts too much to even raise their arms so they’ve been in the same shirt for 3 days before someone notices.
Whumpee walking around with an arm gingerly cradling their side and randomly groaning under their breath
The adrenaline is wearing off, so when their companion playfully hits them in the side they gasp sharply, stop dead in their tracks and grab their friend as they double over in pain
Being forced to go to medical, sitting on the table and scowling at their friend while the nurse gently cuts off their shirt they weren’t able to remove, to expose the profuse bruising all down one side. Their friend’s face goes from peeved to sympathetically horrified in a heartbeat.
Even getting out of bed is a struggle but they’ll be damned if they ask for help for such a simple thing
“Wakey, wakey, baby!” The tug of the chain slightly choked him and made him coughed before he was released again. Ronald chuckled, then gently touched his battered back. Just because of the eye gaze, he had to endure such severe torture.
I was thinking today that I miss watching hockey. We don’t have cable these days and we don’t go to anyone’s house or anything. Anyways, missing hockey. My team is the Canucks.
Boyfriend Material by PoppyAlexander (151K, E, Johnlock, John/OMC, Sherlock/OMC) Boston Brawlers’ team captain John Watson longs for two things: a championship before he retires, and a boyfriend. Assigned to room with goaltender Sherlock Holmes–known around the league as both a genius and a “weird dude”–on Brawlers’ roadtrips, John discovers the things they have in common that lead to an easy friendship and a convenient arrangement.
When girls do the thing where they wear open button ups but tuck them in so that you can see just enough cleavage so that their whole titty isn’t out, but you kinda wish it was.
what quasi-medieval fantasy gets wrong is that it doesn’t make politics stupid enough
it’s all blood and guts this, lust that, scheming wizards and perfidious dukes, blah blah blah
for every character that gets murdered by magic or dragon burps or daggers to the heart there should be two dying of things like “ate too many lampreys” or “was too socially awkward to excuse himself to pee” or like, arresting geese and making them stand trial for being public nuisances
Cori’iana Sanandrassa, former Queen of Naboo finds her path once again crossed by Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi while serving the Queen Amidala. Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan had also been her protectors from enemies of Naboo during her reign, so she knows them well. But could rekindling their friendship prove detrimental to the protection of Amidala? Not if Cori’i has anything to say about it.
- again, this is a rough attempt at a summary and a cover. But it’s progress!
