#Bubble Wrap 1 Meter

[bubblewrapjogja]

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[auragasmics]

1:32 AM: A LOVE LETTER TO THE PRETTIEST GIRL!

spellbook intro! when Nanami takes a moment to study his wife after a date night, his heart pours out a soliloquy for the ages!

potion ingredients! 4.4k+, pwp(?), wife!reader x husband!nanami kento, fluff+ smut, fingering, clitslapping(1), cunnilingus, explict talk, mating press, grinding, allusions to sex (penetration), self-indulgent to the max ♥︎

note to casters! yeah, this is so indulgent. and i'm sorry i have to say this...p**** is pink :). grab a mirror and check for yourself.

Champagne. 

A drink known to be indulged during the most influential times of human history. It’s a famed tag that runs through nations upon nations, beloved by the heaven blend of Pinot, Meunier, and Chardonnay. It pulls the tongue into an envious ménage-à-trois between the rich taste and the cheeky spry bubbles seething one’s cheeks into a world of heat —all doomed to end once a swallow washes away all the bliss. 

From its days of ruling beside monarchy to its dwindled expression in the modern world, it has yet to lose its class. It still rules amongst those with exquisite, those who can handle the feverish rush of having rapture ruin all composure.  

It’s suitable for a man like Nanami to indulge in such refinement too, just a single sip from the tall slender glass seated beside his plate transports his mind into a place where the weight of a jewel-encrusted crown sits upon his head. And in this universe, he rules over a 64 square meter condo, a beloved lord sleeping in his king-sized bed, and a lawful husband to his queen. 

Another sip reminds him of the gracious air surrounding the night—a date night catered by a meal of shared efforts and a bottle of Nanami’s favorite champagne. It’s sweet like forbidden fruit, the heavenly delight soothing his woes. 

His gentle stare falls onto you, the infamous cinnamon fawning over how red complements your skin in that dress, over your delicate pout—no, obsessing over how your lips nurse the rim of the glass as if it were a kiss. As to how the heavens gifted a man such as he with one of their own angels, it’s a blessing he’s taken without a second thought. 

However, it’s a feeling that even after three years of marriage has yet to subdue. The riveting swell that throws his heart into turmoil whenever you giggle. The wash of goosebumps set to claim his skin when your hand simply grazes against his own. The trance your gentle coos lure him into, just like now.

“Kennnn, Baby? Are you okay?”

Flurries of mindless blinks brings Nanami back into the present, where he’s met with your own stare. Where silence settles comes the bustle of apologies and giggles, Nanami “Hm?—Oh! I’m fine, Honey. I’m so sorry—missed what you said there, can you repeat it?”

“Oh, it’s fine! I was asking what should we do about the dishes? All that cooking and I always seem to forget about cleaning.”

Nanami merely shrugs his shoulder, “I’ll wash them.”

“But aren’t you tired? We could just leave them to soak—”

The rambles of solutions come to a slamming shut as Nanami reaches over to your side of the square dining table, his fingers seamlessly knitting within your own.

“That was a really good steak. The garlic butter we made last weekend was a perfect touch. Oh, and the mashed potatoes, you always outdo yourself, Honey. All I did was peel the potatoes and help sear the steak, the least I can do is clean…right?”

A helpless sigh passes through your glossed lips, “You’re not getting me to agree, y’know. I still say we just go get ready for bed.”

Nanami calls his hand, his energy, even his presence over the table back to his side in trade for the back of his chair for asylum. He gives you a steady stare that pairs all too well with a grin and a pat on his lap. “Come here.”

There’s safety in being wrapped up in Nanami’s arms as you settle in his care, his muscle-ribbed arms thick arms lacing around your waist, his large hands draping off your hip, all while he keeps one leg bouncing to a steady rhythm. 

“Why do you worry your pretty little head off about the fine details, huh? That’s my job.” 

“I know, but…”

Weakness grows in your heart as you look down into his eyes—those tired eyes casted by an ardent glow. Exhaustion still can’t taint his heart, it can’t begin to ruin the tender nature he abides to you. You can’t help but soothe him, your hand racing to cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb skating along the curves of his bottom lip. 

“But you work so hard, Kento. You should come to bed with me, just leave all this for tomorrow.”

But you know him—he can’t leave any job with loose ends. Whether it’s at the office, small repairs around the house, or simply washing dishes, Nanami finds a sense of ease in the natural order of tasks from start to finish. And when some principle challenged his own, he had every reason set and ready to roll for an explanation.

Except for tonight.

Tonight, silence serves as Nanami’s winded explanation—and the kind pecks he pushes back against your touch. 

“Ken?”

“Mhm?”

“Aren’t you going to…say something…or anything?”

Patience gets the better of you as Nanami simply keeps himself entertained with your thumb. His kisses melt into you skin, his soft hums strike every fiber, and each pinch of his lips leaves you dangling at the end of your rope. Nanami stands from the chair, cradling you in his arms. His steps are guided by routine, up the stairs and through the first door to the right, straight into the bedroom.

Nanami drops you on the bed.

You can’t really pinpoint when the plush warmth of your bed welcomed you home, but with Nanami’s thick chest pinning you to the sheets, it’s a quick conclusion you push off rather quickly.

How could you focus on such fine details when he’s lathering the junctures of your collarbone in kisses, trailing back up to your awaiting lips. 

“Sweetheart.”

“Yes, Baby?” 

Nanami gives in to you with a kiss, his lips just barely sinking into yours before he’s hulling himself back onto his feet.

“Go get ready for bed and when you wake up, I’ll be right there next to you.”

Sleep is all Namai intended for you to have, he'd be damned if something so trivial as chores would prevent you from rest. And when Nanami did finish up with the last bowl, sleep fell heavy on his mind all the same.

It weighed heavy on his mind through a hot shower, through his nightly routine, even as he mindlessly slipped into a pair of briefs and beneath the bed sheets.

But…his tired eyes had to land on you—his precious angel.

Oh, his pretty wife who glows underneath the moon’s rays, laid on your side with the blanket tucked up to your chin. He’s eager to join you, sliding himself right beside your body—where nothing but a pair of panties hugs you. 

It certainly doesn’t help how you gravitate to Nanami, even while underneath sleep’s spell. Grinding the thick globes of your ass into his lap—and right where the head of his cock sits snug against the waistband of his briefs.

In a desperate search for a distraction, Nanami cranes his neck to greet the neon red digits bleeding through the face of his bedside clock—where the best joke known to man awaits him.

1:32 AM. 

Just an hour into the new day Nanami is met by pure mockery. Of course, his sweet wife all swept up in sleep makes for an even better punch line—-the growing bulge sinking between your ass. A quiet mind is all he wants, why he’s drowning his mind in those meditative mantras you’ve taught him when work becomes too much all at once.

But it’s a fleeting dream the moment those throbs ripple through the thick veins stretching over his cock. 

“Sweetheart, c’mon…give me a chance at least,” he’s muttering for his ears alone. 

Yet the only chance Nanami knows he has is to follow in your steed and sleep away his impending thoughts. He gently lifts the blanklet up to his shoulder, only for the chilling gush to fan across your body.

“Mmm, ‘m cold, Ken.”

“I know, I know, I’m gonna fix that right away, Sweetheart.”

Sunken beneath the heavy blanket, Nanami carves out every inch of your spine with his chest, slotting himself flush against you. His arms surge to envelop you, giving way for his hand to greedily cup the silky fat of your breast.

For a moment he’s sworn he’s beaten lust curse because well, cradling his sleeping beauty like this, allowing for his body, his warmth to sew his body to your own. 

“How’s that? Feels warmer now, Sweetheart?” His voice gently coos in your ear. 

He doesn’t expect much, a sheepish nod and a mumble thrillingly satisfies Nanami. He can’t explain it, but as he steals a glance over you, he finds his wretched mind delighted by mundane beauty.

A painting is known to capture a moment in time through the perspective of the artist—but what Nanami’s eye beholds before him is too good for any picture, any painting, for every medium of art would fail to capture the radiant glow the moon kisses upon your skin. It would fail to mimic the soft curl of your lips, free from control and lifted behind the pure rapture of your mind. It certainly couldn’t transcribe the very details consumed by Nanami. 

Maybe it’s due to the curse of the night overwhelming Nanami, but he simply can’t be alone right now, not while love has him spiraling down a self-induced hole. He can’t stop himself from taking to your shoulder, granting his lips the tactful satisfaction of littering kisses upon your skin.  

“Honey…are you really asleep?” He pouts, yet he immediately reflects on himself as he swipes yet another look at the clock. “

It’s what…1:40 now, I should be asleep too, however…” 

Breaking his trail of kisses, Nanami softly sighs as he gathers all his wayward thoughts, all for this moment only he’ll hold a record of.

“I can only say this while you sleep. It’s pathetic of me, but I haven’t gotten the confidence to face you as I should. I’m not one for many words, nor do I show all the emotion I hold inside of me. But, I hope that my love for you bleeds through every touch, every stare, every kiss, and every breath. I breathe for you. I live for you. And should it come to pass, I’d kill for you. I’ve never felt more endeared to anyone before but you…You give me all the strength I need to be a better man. I just hope to-"

“...Ken, Honey? Are you on a phone call?”

“Oh um…” His blood’s running cold through every vein in his body. Suddenly, he’s stricken dumb and frozen underneath the weight of speculation. But he is who he is—a calm man with logic on his sleeve. Pushing out a huff through his nose, Nanami finds himself at ease as he peers down at your hazy eyes.

“N-No, no…just…thinking aloud. Go back to sleep, okay?”

You muse him with a passing look over your shoulder. “Thinking aloud, hm? Tell me.”

Before Nanami can conjure up some excuse as his alibi, you’ve already to bury yourself within his chest. Your soft hands buff his nerves down to naught through lazy swipes across his taut pecs. In your care, his heart’s raging scream dwindles down to a tepid thump, his lungs spoiled with fulfilling breaths, and his mind’s calmer than the vast Pacific Ocean—all thanks to you. 

“You…really want to know?” 

“Yup,” your eyes flutter open to hang upon Nanami’s heavy lids. “Tell me anything and everything.”

Giving in, Nanami’s head falls into a gentle tilt, “Do you know how beautiful are you?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“You say it like that, but I don’t know if you really do…”

“You think so highly of me.”

“I have to, you’re the woman I’ve devoted my life to.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret?” Nanami has to echo. It’s just one of the words that have escaped his vocabulary in recent years. And a regret in your presence is something he knows he’ll never, ever know again. “Never. And even if I did, I’d do it all again just to be with you.”

Gently you bite into your bottom lip “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“Of course I do. I mean it was such a—-”

“I think tonight’s going to be a repeat of that. Or better.”

As your words break through the air, you’re given the honor of watching Nanami crumble underneath the heat of your advances. Blush breaks across his cheeks, his pupils blown wide by lust’s bite, and right beneath your hand his heart’s back to roaring its spirted song.

“Real—ahem—Really? And why’s that?”

“Welllll…” The soft drag of your coo lures Nanami into hypnosis. “I just think it is, Baby. How’s that sound to you?”

“Go—Good. I can’t ever say—” 

Nanami lets your lips swallow down the last of his words in your kiss. He lets you take his last breath, his last thoughts, and all the sanity he thought he relied upon. In trade of that, he’s given the chance to relinquish all control just to drink in your soft whimpers, to sate his whims with your kiss, to scour your soft skin with his rough hands. 

Reality sets in hard and heavy for Nanami. To think, just moments ago he was too absorbed in admiring you—his wife, his lady, his precious angel tucked beside him like any other night.

His precious angel who wears sleep with a plump pout and soft snores.

His precious angel clutching at the thick pillow beneath your head.

His precious angel who has sin creeping along your curves and slipping beneath a pair of lacy red panties.

“Mmm…Ken…” your voice quietly breaks against his puffy lips. Your hips flirt with Nanami’s feathering touch, winding along to his shy caress. “Hmph…right…right there…”

“Yeah?” He allows for a lone digit to greet your dormant clit, the warmth of his touch gently thumbing circles into your bundle of nerves. “It’s riiiight here, isn’t it pretty girl?”

He plays coy, letting honey drip from his lips and into your ear. “Tell me so I can make everything better, Sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Ken please—Harder, baby, Harder!”

Dumbfounded. A dumbfounded gawk is all Nanami can muster towards you—until the ends of his mouth curl up into a grin he buries along the pulse of your throat.

“Harder?” He mocks with a hiked brow. “I don’t think you can take that, Honey. No…but…since you asked so nicely…”

SLAP!

The loud clash of Nanami's palm against your splayed cunt rings in silence over the room, serving as the perfect beat for your body to comprehend the brash course your husband's veered the night into.

“Oh–Fuck!” Tossing your head back between your shoulders, you mewl as the heavy chimes around the room. “T-that’s too much, Ken!”

Nanami hides his chuckle behind a kiss he presses to your temple. “I Promise that’s the last time tonight.” His sights slip down between your legs, watching as his fingers work to soothe your poor clit from his torture. 

He feathers down to your slit, the tight pink ring suckling to Nanami’s familiar touch. His intentions you know are pure, even amidst such lust staining the air. He’s so gentle with you, having his digits complement the perky bud of your clit with sluggish strokes, teasing your hole with the sticky circles he draws. 

All for his digits to fall victim to your pussy.

“Oh, such a greedy baby,” Nanami gasps. He’s forced to ignore the heavy stains of precum ruining his briefs, but he simply can’t let you have your way. It’s enough that he’s curling those slender fingers within your heat, strumming along the gummy walls he’s planning on staining white.  “You can’t take me just playing with you, you need so much more.”

A slight curl to your lips spites him. “I guess you know me well, Honey. Your fault for spoiling me.”

“And? You know I don’t regret a moment of it.”

He’s so sweet with you, peppering kisses along your cheeks, filling your mind with saccharine hymns. Yet he’s incessant with his reach, sending his digits to know every inch of your pussy with each strike he drills into your sweet spot.

It's just like Nanami, once he’s found a goal, he’ll work and work until the logic runs dry in his mind. He’ll work a hellish job for the trade of money, he’ll risk his life for the trade of saving others, and he’ll work his hand to the raw nerve to turn your pussy into a sputtering mess. 

“Good girl, you’re making me so proud, Baby,” Nanami coos, his eyes glued between your twitching legs. “Oh, I wish you could see what I do.”

“A-and w..wha-at’s that?” 

Your stumbling words earn an esteemed chuckle from Nanami. “Well…I could always just describe it to you…But there’s something I need to do first...”

It isn’t like him to keep you puzzled, especially with words nonetheless. But Nanami’s a man of action, letting his body move to support his cause. His cause for tonight, however, called for his body to slip away from your warmth all for him to be planked between your thighs and his hands kneading at your plushy skin. 

“That’s even better. Now, where do I even begin…”

His thumb comes to peck at your bud, lazily scrolling at the perky pearl in swipes. “I’ve been thinking about it all day, counting the minutes until I’m back at your side…back between your legs…back to having this pussy drip bliss back into my poor soul.”

It isn’t enough to have you laid out on a silver platter where his tongue can lather at your honey for hours—Nanami needs you to know just how deep his depravity lies. He slowly drags his tongue to wet his plump lips, soothing the ravenous urge that boils to the forefront of his mind with dumb babbles. 

“Just so…pretty…and pink. So sweet, so soft. Honey, I can’t go a day without you, you’re my lifeline, every beat of my heart. I just…”

His touch gets the better of his coherency. He knows better than to find focus elsewhere when speaking, but in truth, Nanami did not—he should not have caught your slicked hole fluttering at the sound of his soliloquy. 

“Oh…Fuck me…”

He wants to be kind, he wants to be sweet, and Nanami wants to embody the very traits he’s fallen in love with.

But he can’t.

Nanami can’t play the nice guy when he greedily welcomes your pussy back into his salacious mouth with a gracious sigh, his jaw hungrily working to force that poor button into a pudgy bloat.

Cunnilingus. It’s an art he’s swiftly mastered after three years of marriage, learning every inch of your body like your own. He knows where exactly his tongue should flit, where his finger curls the best, and even how long it should take for your body to shatter at his hands.

But it’s an effortless art when mastered behind love, and it steals Nanami’s breath away every time he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” his curse breaks through the air. His hands knead at the silky plush hidden underneath your thigh, leaving every curve of his fingerprint to sear into you—-to mark you as his own. He’s eager to catch your eyes, those adorable eyes that well up with the fattest tears whenever he pedals his tongue right against your clit.   

As the age-old game of cat and mouse welcomes itself onto the stage known as the bed, you unassumingly take up your role the second you jerk away from Nanami’s silent plea.

What he wants from you—time, affection, or maybe even an orgasm, every idea falls to the back burner the moment your hips mindlessly buck into his mouth. You could have sold him the story of it being an accident, but why ruin his fun where he’s so hellbent on this one night that your body’s finally taking offense?

Though, when the rare glow dots the eyes he shoots up at you, you swear you can see hearts in the distance of his blown pupils. 

“Oh, look at that,” Nanami almost humors himself as he takes another glance at your cunt.

A precarious man such as he can’t afford to miss any details. His eyes cling to the unfolding sight, how his thick digits bathe in your essence, carefully sketching his own path about your folds so rich with nerves. He’s shamelessly gawking at how the succulent hues of rose bodes well with his fair skin, each pass he bestows upon your cunt pulls him into a self-induced trance.

“Making such a mess just from me talking. What a dirty mind you’ve got, isn’t that right, Honey?” 

Right on the tip of your tongue, the words baste behind the sweetest rapport. You could let him have him, fill his ears with talk of how lechery paints his face like a mask. He is your husband, yet the side he’s letting out to roam tonight leaves your fuzzy mind combing with an answer—and fast. 

“W-Where is this co-comming f-from, Baby?” 

That’s what you say, but the moans slipping from your traitorous mouth when Nanami plants one last kiss to your folds tells him all that needs to be known.  

“What?” He chuckles to himself. The pads of his digits wade through the glassy web sewn between your delicate folds, “Can’t handle me talking about your pussy, Sweetheart? I’m sorry but you'll have to take it. And, speaking of taking it…you know what else I love about you?”

“What’s that?” Your voice trails out behind a whimper.

Just to catch your eye, Nanami allows for the single tug of his briefs to free him from hell reincarnated. With the gray waistband sitting underneath the heavy bloat of his balls, his hand hungrily grips the base of his cock. A hellish squeeze around his rippling veins has your eyes nearly crossing at the pearly tears spilling from his tip. 

With the thread of sanity left in your mind, your hands race to ball the blanket within your fists, for some kind of grounding. “Fuck! Please! Please, tell me, I can’t wait anymore, Baby!”

“Let me show you then,” Nanami hums as he cup at the back of your knees. “I love when I fold you in half…juuuust like this…”

His words speak for him, Nanami’s sheer strength working pin your poor, tired body into one of his favorite positions—a mating press.

“I can see just how hard you try to take every inch of me. Making your poor pussy stretch around my cock, you must really love me, don’t you Honey?”

It’s sinfully natural the way the fat blushing crown of Nanami’s cock sits upon your clit, a detail he’s made himself keen to. His thick bulb sobbing those white tears all because of badly he needed to have you. To have his fingers work at your gushing cunny is one thing, his cock on the other hand?

He’s on course to face ruin tonight.

He’s already planning the next position, the hour, the next day, all dedicated to keeping his fat length choked within your walls for as long as he could.

Why with such knowledge, it’s no wonder his hips fall into a languid toll, leaving the thick head to trace every curve of your cunt. He’s driving up against every nerve just to watch your face quiver, to see those tears he loves so much all from a little teasing. 

His head dips along the marked tract of your neck, a cowardly move to hide his own flush face. His hands clip to your waist, baring your body between the smothering warmth of his thick chest and bed—without an inch to spare. 

His muffled voice hums against your neck, “T-That feels good right?” 

“Fuh–it’s s�� good Ken. ‘m so close, Baby please!” 

“It’s too soon to cum, Sweetheart—you know that.” Nanami faces betrayal from his warning, his hips snapping against your own. “Just take it nice ‘nd eas–shit! Oh Honey, you feel so…so…fuck, that’s so good!”

“Kennnn! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You hysterically sob in his ear. It’s all for good reason as those ominous white stars begin to freckle your vision. The knot hasn’t even pulled taut shattered and yet you’re already a victim to its claim. The mind-altering high that rips you out of your body for nothing short of a few seconds.

“Hold it, you can’t yet, Sweetheart, not—”

Sending your grip to sink into the twitching muscle of his biceps, you whimpered out against Nanami’s wishes. “I can’t, Kento! It’s too much!” You knew all too well what was coming and as much as Nanami claims to know as well, he simply couldn’t have you reeling off something so mundane as humping. 

“Please Honey, hold it. Just a little—”

“Fuck! ‘m cumming!” 

The perilous yelp echoes around the room as the pure state of bliss paints itself white in your mind. All that pressure, the tensions, it all slips away from you through the harsh arch your spine fights beneath Nanami.

It’s futile to try and stop the inevitable, and the bliss that comes with surrender is all the more peaceful. When your body tingles with the aftershocks, your mind hazy from the stress and woes of the day, all of the negative can’t survive when a high like that comes crashing hard and heavy. 

Exhaustion houses itself in your body, accompanying weakness and the giddy smiles that you can’t hold back–until your body feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“That…whew, that was so—Kento?”

Your spotty sights focus upon falling onto Nanami’s silhouette, his towering form resting back on his haunches. His hand’s fallen between your bodies, a loose fist drumming against your skin. He’s pummeling his cock beneath harsh strokes, forcing abstract thick ropes of white to dance along your puffy lips. 

“Ken, Baby?” You call out cautiously as his body collapses over yours. “It’s okay,”  we can call it an early night–”

“I can’t leave you unsatisfied, it was pathetic of me to let go right now,” He huffs,  We’ve got our routine—gonna fill this pretty pussy so fucking full just so I can clean you up. And I have to tell you something.”

Your eyes soften over Nanami, desperately watching as the man seeks redemption. He isn’t one to be a sore loser, but when it comes to you—he’ll work until he breaks just to know that he was behind your euphoria. 

All resolutions point to you supplying his motive with undying support, especially when your digits reach to strum at the sparse blond hairs along the nape of his neck. “Go ahead, tell me Ken.”

A wicked grin stretches onto Nanami’s features, only to hide behind a kiss within the valley of your breasts.

“Oh, I love you so much, Baby. Can’t wait to give all my love to the prettiest girl!”

[l4ndojpg]

whumptober 2024, day 1: panic attack

fandom: formula 1 RPF | characters: charles leclerc, max verstappen | ship: charles leclerc/max verstappen | trigger warnings: panic attack | content: charles struggles, max does his best to help | word count: 1.2k | please keep RPF in fandom spaces only!

9:47PM

Charles: Are u awake

Max sits up so fast he gets a head rush. He blinks a couple of times to make sure he’s not imagining the text but no - it’s real. Sheets pooling around his waist, he types out a reply quickly and hits send, then sits, gnawing his thumbnail as he waits for a response form his boyfriend. 

9:47PM

Max: Yes

Max: Are u okay

Charles sees the messages immediately. Max watches anxiously as Charles types for several seconds, then the bubbles disappear again. Max exhales. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Charles to be honest with him about what he needed after qualifying today; he was still pale and shaken when Max left him in his hotel room an hour ago with the claim that he wanted to be alone. His thumb is hovering over the call button when Charles finally responds. 

9:51PM

Charles: Can u come here

Fuck. 

9:51PM

Max: Yes coming now 

Max tugs on his sweatpants, t-shirt and slides so fast he’s surprised he doesn't rip a hole in any of the clothing. His phone is gripped tightly in his hand, and he picks up his water bottle and his keycard from his bedside table before slamming the door behind him and walking quickly to the elevator that will take him two floors down to Charles’ room. 

He taps his foot impatiently against the tiled floor of the elevator, biting his lower lip anxiously in anticipation of what he’ll be walking into. Charles has been struggling more than Max thought he would this weekend; both in the car and out. Charles is in such an emotional and confusing headspace Max honestly doesn’t know what state his boyfriend will be in when he arrives. All he can do is resolve to help in whatever way he can. 

He knocks gently twice on Charles’ hotel room door, thankful nobody is around. There’s scuffling from behind the door, and a second later Charles opens it to reveal a pale face and red rimmed eyes. Max sighs, pushes Charles gently backward into his room and shuts the door behind them. Charles turns and begins to pace the length of the floor, chewing the inside of his cheek. 

“What do you need, schatje?” Max says quietly, watching Charles pace anxiously. Charles takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He just shakes his head silently and continues pacing. Max nods as if he understands - he doesn’t, really - and takes a seat on the end of the bed. He figures lingering in the doorway isn’t going to help, and perhaps if he sits on the bed it will encourage Charles to do the same. 

They’re both quiet for a few minutes. Charles continues pacing, hands rubbing his face rather viciously, a sure sign that if Max doesn’t head whatever this is soon, it will turn into a full blown panic attack. 

“Charles. Come and sit,” Max tries again, but Charles shakes his head again. “Tell me what is going through your mind right now,” Max settles on, and Charles finally stops, standing a couple of meters from Max and staring at him as though he only just realized his boyfriend was in the room.

“I-,” Charles starts to speak and chokes on his words. He continues to rub his face as his lower lip trembles. 

“You can tell me,” Max says softly, hoping it’s what Charles needs to hear. “You can tell me anything.” 

“I-,” Charles starts again, and stops. “Max, I- I can’t do it,” he chokes out. 

Max bites the inside of his mouth in concern. “What can’t you do, schatje?” 

Charles shakes his head once more. His hands finally drop to his sides. 

“I can not do it,” he whispers, accent thickening as it does when he gets more upset. “I can not drive tomorrow,” his voice cracks - and he bursts into tears. 

Max jumps up and tries to wrap his arms around Charles, but Charles pushes him away as he continues to cry. He backs up until he hits the wall and slides down it, knees pulled into his chest, sobs rattling his chest. 

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,” Max assures him softly, crouching down in front of him. “I just need you to breathe right now, baby, just breathe-,” 

Charles takes no notice of Max, head between his knees taking great, gasping sobs. 

“Charles,” Max says a little louder, “Charlie, look at me.” At the nickname, Charles’ head finally snaps up, eyes watery and wild, face flushed as he whimpers. 

“Let me help you,” Max says, and it comes out pleading, and perhaps that’s why Charles nods and allows Max to take his hand. 

“I’m gonna squeeze,” Max orders quietly, “and you are going to breathe, okay?” 

Charles takes a stuttering breath and nods, lips pressed in a hard line as tears continue to pour down his face. Max begins to squeeze Charles’ hands in short increments, focusing all his energy on doing it for the perfect amount of time rather than on the fact his boyfriend is breaking down in front of him. 

Charles has never guarded his emotions as ferociously as Max. It scared Max, at first, when they got together, how open and vulnerable Charles was willing to be. But overtime, Max has begun to realize how much better things are when they’re both vulnerable with each other. 

It doesn’t make being there for each other when they’re in distress any easier. 

They sit like that for what feels like hours but is probably only ten minutes, Max squeezing Charles’ hands and Charles taking stuttering, gasping breaths between sobs that become slowly but surely more deep. Eventually, all cried out, Charles slumps back against the wall again, head hitting it with a soft thump. 

“You will be more comfortable in bed,” Max murmurs after a moment, and Charles nods noncommittally. Max helps him stand - he’s shaky on his feet - and leads him over to the bed. Charles gets in, pulls the covers up to his chest, but doesn’t lay down, remaining sitting against the fluffy pillows. 

Max crawls into the other side, picking up his water bottle, unscrewing the lid and handing it to Charles silently as he situates himself next to his boyfriend. Charles takes a few long gulps then passes it back to Max, who places it back on the bedside table. 

“Lie down,” Max says quietly, but Charles doesn’t show any signs that he’s heard his boyfriend. Max exhales and tugs Charles gently down to lie so that his head is on Max’s chest. He’s still shaking. 

“It’s just-,” Charles starts to say, voice hoarse, then stops. Max doesn’t push him, just waits silently for Charles to continue, running a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower he must have taken after the quali debrief. 

“It’s just so much,” Charles says eventually, voice cracking. “Sometimes.”

“I know,” Max says, and he does, but he knows it doesn’t help. He wishes it would. “I know Charlie.”

[kate-bishops-waifu]

Three scenes, not altogether remarkable or necessary, but important.

A/N: uhh, just scenes I keep thinking about. Sequential in acts 1, 2, and 4.

The Last Drop was busy, as it most often was, though much more tolerable so than in the evenings. Vi had left hours ago, he wouldn’t say what exactly he was doing but he had that restlessness where he would bounce his knee and fidget like he couldn’t hold in whatever it was he was being so close to the chest about.

Sometimes, Ophelia did wonder what her parents might think of her attending such a place. They never did care anymore, so neither did she. No one took notice, or care of her now except perhaps for Vi.

From the bar Vander waved beckoning her over, his heavy brow furrowed he leaned on the counter. Her ears lay even flatter than they had been. “You’re not with them.” He poured a drink, sliding it towards her. Ophelia balked, letting her sleeve slip over her hands as she held them awkwardly at her sides. Vander gave the drink another little nudge forward and she took it in both hands, not sitting. “I thought you’d be with them?”

“I, I came here to wait for Vi.” Vander’s eyebrow raised.

“And you didn’t go with him?” Ophelia shook her head, absently playing with the cup. “I’m not saying you’re not allowed here, I’m just curious when was the last time I saw you without Vi?” Her cheeks turned red, and Vander’s expression softened a little. “Did they tell you what they were up to?”

“No.”

Vander gave a sort of sharp breath and stood up, “Alright then, head on in. You’re not in trouble. Who knows what those kids get up to.”

Ophelia thanked him and rushed off. The room she was so familiar with, the drab old couch, the bunkbed decorated with string lights by powder. She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest and sipped at her drink, a sweet tangy bubbly flavor she liked well enough. There were never any books down there, so she sat thinking mulling over what they could be up to, and how long it would take for them to return. She shifted slightly so she could rest her head against the back of the couch. It always smelled sort of mildewy, but all couches smelled that way in the undercity. She tried to recall the couch she had had in Piltover, the memories increasingly hazy.

It was some time before the door burst open, startling her from her reverie, she stood up glancing over the group looking rather displeased and as if they had found some trouble. She was a little surprised when Vi approached, his eye bruised, his knuckles bloody, his cheeks puffy like when they got upset. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, breathing in deep. Her ears erect in surprise, relaxed in their embrace.

“It was shit cupcake.”

Vi gazed up at his own face staring back at him like a ghost. His eyes wandered, too pained to look at Vander too long, barely recognizing Claggor or Mylo’s faces, settling on the portrait of Powder. His hands stuffed in his pockets. Ekko was away, speaking to someone, perhaps he should be more concerned with leaving the enforcer all locked up, but he needed a moment to take everything in on his own. Several minutes passed, a feeling almost like being at his own funeral washed over him. The memory was still as fresh as the day it happened. If he thought too long about it he could very nearly still feel that enforcer taking him away from Powder. He tore his gaze away, remembering something. Glancing across the mural, once twice, three times. She wasn’t there. His chest leapt, desperate naive hope. He scanned the mural several more times, just to be certain. Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Powder, more faces he recognized and some he didn’t and wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was overwhelming, he turned away ready to move on, but froze in his tracks. Several meters away, nearly obscured in the shade of the tree. A woman in a black dress, tall, nearly invisible. She looked the same, and entirely different. And completely unreal. Vi hesitated, thinking it was an apparition.

“Fuck,” fell from his mouth almost by accident. Before he even knew it his feet left the ground and she was in his arms. She was so frail, yet so sturdy, a standing contradiction of everything Vi thought to be true at that moment.

He squeezed so tightly she thought she might break, if it were anyone else she might have pulled away.

For a moment she was stiff as a rod and Vi almost panicked, but two cold hands wrapped around him. He breathed, deeply, for the first time in what felt like years. Something, was his only thought, something was still here, he could hold on to.

“You’re dead.” came her small voice. She still had that slight Piltover lilt to her accent.

“No, no I was arrested they,”

“Stillwater,”

“Yes, yes exactly. I was arrested, I couldn’t get away, God, cupcake, I’m so sorry.” Vi felt a tear fall on the back of his neck as Ophelia turned to bury her face against him.

“It’s not your fault,” she spoke barely above a whisper, wistful, haunting, an impression of a person. He couldn’t believe after all this time she was still here, and the small gesture, admonishment of his guilt. He choked out a sob.

“She’s beautiful,”

Vi glanced up, for a bare moment, looked away, then looked at Ophelia properly. She stood by the corridor entrance, her hands together, fidgeting. He thought briefly, and not for the first time, that Witch of The Lanes was an apt title. Her gown nearly graced the floor, shifting and shadowy, he would have reached out to touch it if it weren’t just out of arms reach. “What?” His brow still furrowed.

“Caitlyn. She’s beautiful.”

Vi tilted his head, studying her blank eyes that would not meet his.

“I see why you like her,”

Vi shifted, “Uh, sure,” he hesitated a moment, then stood up, pushing himself off the floor. He kept his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, “She wants me to be an enforcer.”

“What?” Ophelia’s head shot up to look at him, but now his gaze was at the floor.

“handed me a badge and everything. Wants to show the topsiders not everyone agrees with,” he hesitated, “with Jinx.”

Swallowing, Ophelia knitted her eyebrows together, safely biting her tongue. “And?”

“And I shoved it in her face, what else?” Vi looked at her. Shocked she would even consider otherwise. Ophelia breathed,

“I would understand if you took it,”

“I wouldn’t.” Vi interrupted.

“Well, I understand if you would. Jinx isn’t your fault, you know? We, Ekko and I, we saw how Silco molded her into their perfect little soldier- and-” she took a breath, “and I get it. It’s been a long time, and I’m sure you haven’t even thought about it, with everything; I just, wanted to, I guess, say that. That, I get it. Why you like her.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, lips parting in surprise, “seriously?” with an odd gesture, almost like she was about to run away, Ophelia nodded. “You know.” He took another step closer to her. “There were only two things that got me through all that shit. The thought of getting back to Powder, and you.” He reached out one hand, sliding it under Ophelia’s jaw.

Her ear twitched uneasily, she shifted as if desperately trying not to wriggled out of his grasp. “Caitlyn’s too, prissy, she’s a brat at best and insufferable at worst. Ally maybe, but she just put a badge in my hand.” He bit the inside of his cheek, a small wave a guilt washing over him. “Can you look at me, please.” His gaze was soft, when she did meet it, he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat, tilting his head. “Do you really think. .” he trailed off, the corners of her mouth twitched guiltily.

Vi, halting, as if expecting her to say no or turn the other way, leaned towards her until their lips met. She did not pull away, she met them with a strange feeling of unreality. Vi was dead a week ago.

[rizahawkeye1380]

Crossing the Webs

Chapter 1 - The Other One Inside Me

If there's something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call? The Spider-Men?

“Date, September 3, 1984. Time, 4:34 PM Eastern Standard. Location, Columbia University. This is Dr. Egon Spengler performing the first documented experiment regarding the reaction of spider DNA affected by a dose of radiation with human DNA.”

He picks up the syringe, checking to make sure everything was in place; no air bubbles to be seen, the injection site was already sanitized, and the elastic band was tight enough that the vein was swelling just enough for the needle. “For the past few months, ten species of the Arachnida class were subjected to small doses of radiation. Of those ten species, five of them were exposed to a higher concentration of protonic energy, one of which is currently being used for today’s experiment. As I assumed, there are a lack of volunteers, so I will be self-experimenting with a 0.25-mL dose of Ummidia audouini ’s radioactive blood, half of the dose for the regular influenza vaccine. If I do not see a result by the two-week mark, I will attempt another test with the same condition with another 0.25-mL dose.” He slowly inserted the needle in, making sure that the blood was a darker red to indicate he had pierced the vein and loosened the elastic band a tad before gently pushing the plunger all the way. “The injection is complete and any further observations will be recorded in my notebook, thus concluding today’s recording.” He presses the stop button and disposes of the needle, wiping away the pulling spot of blood, and putting a swab of cotton over it and wrapping it tight with the ace bandage he had precut. After feeding the spiders and making sure they were safe and secured, Egon grabs his notebook and pens as he goes to another lab. He had been meaning to make a few adjustments to the PKE meter, hopefully calibrating it so that it would be able to pick up enough psychokinetic energy to detect any apparitions roaming around this world. It must have only been around half an hour when Egon started to feel a headache coming on; he tried to ignore it but the harder he tried, the more it came back harder than before. Had it only been a headache he could have soldiered on, but then he felt himself heating up…..a lot. He checked his temperature, 103°F, definitely a fever. 

As he started to head toward his shared dorm with Ray and Peter, he could feel his vision starting to blur and his clothes sticking to him because of how much he was sweating. He sat down for a moment to rest and recorded the signs and symptoms before stumbling his way onto the dorm room.

X

Ray yawned as he was cleaning up the table; Peter had gone out on a date so he had treated himself to some Chinese takeout and some television, but before he could turn it on he heard the door open. “Oh, hey Pete, how was your-?” Ray stood up straight at the sight of Egon looking feverish and sluggish. It even looked like he was sweating excessively through his clothes. “Holy shit!” Ray put a hand on Egon’s forehead and violently jerked it back. “You’re burning up a lot. Did you catch some bug in the lab?” The fact that Egon didn’t respond at all was alarming to him, he just seemed to be looking pass him. “I’ll heat up some soup. We should have some medicine to help your fever, do you need help getting changed?”

It seemed that was what seemed to snap Egon out of his stupor. “Yes….” Shit, his voice sounded like sandpaper. “Ok, don’t talk too much, can’t have you straining your throat anymore.” Egon headed to his room and carefully removed his clothing and folded them neatly on his bed. Next to his bed, a full-length mirror was mounted and while Egon rarely ever used it, the moment he laid his eyes on it, he froze. 

The first thing he noted was that there was…something that was growing in his inner forearms, and another thing beginning to form over his serratus posterior muscles. 

The second thing was how much more gaunt he was, how his ribs became so much more obvious even from a distance. 

The third and most concerning thing he noticed was how…hungry he was. Well, it wasn’t much hunger as it was that he was starving for something soft? Yes, but also smooth. Then he landed on the word; liquified. Spiders liquify their prey before consuming them…

He put on his pajamas, notably the long-sleeved ones, although it did little to hide his thin frame, and wobbled to the kitchen table where a piping hot bowl of chicken noodle was placed in front of him. He skipped the spoon and just slurped the whole thing from the bowl, coughing a bit as some of the soup went down the wrong windpipe. “Geez Egie, slow down a bit,” He stopped at the edge of the table with the two tablets for Egon’s fever, “....you didn’t eat lunch I guess?” Ray asked as he held them out for him.

He then watched as Egon silently nodded and swallowed the medicine dry before going back to his room to try to get some semblance of sleep. 

Hopefully, Egie gets well soon, never saw him this sick since that time he stayed up in the lab for three days straight…..

X

Running…that was the last thing Egon remembered doing before he woke up with a start. He looked around, he was still in his room, but it was clearly night. He looked at the clock next to him, 3:24 AM.

The medication must have knocked me out…

While he tried to go back to sleep, he couldn't stop thinking about running…but what was he running from…? He couldn't remember…or maybe he didn't want to remember…

He stared at the ceiling for a while, contemplating. Maybe the injection gave hallucinations and whatever thing was growing in his arms was just something his brain conjured up. Except… Except when he ran his fingers along his forearm it was still there, squishy like a blister, minus the searing pain he was familiar with, but then......he felt it.

He felt his flexors, pronator, and palmaris muscles shifting beneath his skin, making room for whatever that...thing was...but it didn't stop there...

The next thing that happened felt as if something was ripping under the serratus posterior muscles, yet Egon didn't feel like he was bleeding.

With each stretch, he swore he could hear his muscle fibers tearing and repairing itself as they tried to make more room.

Now suddenly everything was blurry, too blurry!

Egon wanted to scream for help but it felt like his voice was stolen away as his cheeks stretched more than humanly possible to accommodate for new protrusions that he knew were coming out from the sides of his mouth.

He laid there, tears slowly falling down his face, helpless as he faced the horrors that were flowing in his blood.

[astridhoff03]

Siege & Storms - Chapter 1 Astrid

Post Fire Tides-Story. Nightmares haunt Astrid while Hiccup and Toothless try to escape from the underwater City.

A scream tore through her throat as he fell. "Hiccup!" Her fingers wrapped tightly around the metal rings of her saddle as she leaned forward. “Come on, Stormfly. Get down! Get down!” The blood roared in her ears as the Nadder plunged into a dive, away from the ashen sky and down to the deep black sea that spread out beneath them like a rolling velvet carpet. Below her she saw the frightened eyes of her boyfriend, desperately trying to hoist himself onto the back of his night fury, whose dark scales seemed to almost merge with the darkness of the sea surface. She reached out, tried to reach for him, but he was so far away. So far away. It was as if time stood still as their bodies split the surface of the ocean, like a black mirror breaking into a hundred thousand small pieces. "No. Nooooooo! Hiccup!” she shouted against the roar of the waves. No Answer. Not a brown head in the waves. No wing flapping. The ocean had swallowed them. She sat up, with a clear conscience that this too could be her end. But to hell with her life when the man she loved more than anything was in grave danger. And she jumped. Cold water stabbed her soft skin like hundreds of knives, she opened her eyes and there was the deepest blackness around her. She suddenly flash something in the endless black. A body. Hiccup, she thought. She continued to dive, the pressure on her ears reinforced with every meter she swam. Hiccup's pale, thin body appeared in her mind's eye, his limbs hanging limply in the water, his otherwise beautifully bright emerald eyes staring into space. She reached for him, but couldn't get hold of him. Like a sack full of stones, his body sank deeper and deeper towards the seabed. And there was nothing she could do about it. She was powerless. No matter how hard she tried to move forward, an invisible force had a firm hold on her. She kicked around wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs, so that the salty sea water flooded her throat and sent air bubbles to the surface. The darkness became more and more impenetrable, more and more merciless. Slowly she saw in depth how the body of the person she loved above all else, who she had known since childhood, who had shown her the beauty of the world, had enriched her own life with his good heart and his deep love for her was drawn.

Astrid woke up with a scream. The endless darkness around her, hit her, she gasped, clutching at her sweat-soaked chest where her fearful heart was pounding as if it would shatter her ribs at any moment. With trembling fingers, she reached for a candle that was on the nightstand next to the bed and lit it. Her eyes wandered around the room, past the various prosthetic tails that Hiccup had made for Toothless over the years, to the large map of the archipelago that Hiccup had drawn on his explorations of the barbaric land. Her shaky hand slid over the empty side next to her where her fiancé should be lying. The blood ran from her fingertips, her stomach cramped as her eyes remained on the mattress. She didn't know if Hiccup was still alive or if he was injured and dying. She convulsively choked down the lump in her throat, trying to smother the tears that began to roll down her cheeks faster and faster. To calm herself, she took the green fabric of his tunic, which she had worn every night since his departure, between her hands and breathed in its remaining scent of leather and forge that had not yet been singed by her sweat. He was alive. He wasn't dead. He was alive. He wasn't dead... She pulled her legs up to her chest and began rocking back and forth, more tears gathering in her eyes. She had to stay strong, for the village, for Valka, for Hiccup. Hiccup. She squirmed internally. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive...",she kept telling herself, fighting the emptiness that was rapidly spreading in her heart. The dark, cold emptiness swallowed her soul, dragging her down into a bottomless abyss of loneliness and ruin. Everything went quiet in her head; she could only hear the steady beating of her heart. She jumped when something warm and scaly suddenly snuggled up to her. Stormfly. Astrid wrapped her arms around the Nadder lady's head, heard her breathing, felt the warmth emanating from her body. A small smile crept across Astrid's lips as Stormfly rubbed her head against hers. “Thank you, my girl. I love you too.” Stormfly squealed and looked at her rider with concern in her round golden eyes. She gently nudged Astrid with her nose. Astrid sighed and wiped her tears as she stroked her best friend's shiny scale dress. She sniffled: "You know, it's hard sometimes to always have to be strong." The Nadder lady snorted in understanding. Astrid leisurely lifted her legs out of bed, Hiccup's tunic barely reaching enough to carefully cover her intimate area. She grabbed the candle that was on the bedside table and walked out of the room, her heavy steps making the floorboards creak on the way to Hiccup's late father's old room. Astrid hesitated, then knocked on the door. “Come in,” she heard Valka’s tired voice from the other side. She entered the large bedchamber, Valka was sitting up in bed, a bag full of ice pressed to her forehead. “Is something Astrid? Can I help you in any way?” Astrid shook her head as she closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed next to her future mother-in-law. “Yes, everything is fine,” she lied as she smoothed the fabric of the tunic. "I just wanted to see how you were doing." Valka smiled gently. "That's kind of you. But you don’t have to worry about me.” A loud rumble of thunder shook the night, shortly followed by a pelting rain that hit the wooden roof. Astrid's fingers dug into the fabric of the tunic and she gritted her teeth. The fine hairs on her neck stood up against her sweat-heated skin. She hated thunderstorms ever since a lightning strike left her blind several years ago. Although she was now able to cope better with thunderstorms and the darkness, she still felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up every time a storm came. “I'm just going to go outside to see what's going on,” she said shortly without looking at Valka. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw her nod in confirmation. -

Next Chapter follows soon…

[dark-lina]

The Black Waters of Fog: Part 2

Part 1 : The Black Waters of the Fog part 1

More and more of them came, men and women, survivors, as they called themselves, and killers. Some people liked the sea very much, while others felt that something was hiding under the dark surface. The being who was the ruler in this part of the fog, however, was not in a hurry to meet. Rather, he made his first contacts through dreams ... the dream world in the mist and the worlds outside merged in this one ... dream world.

There he was whatever his victim wanted, a lover, a husband, a child... someone who would listen to comfort. Someone who will inflict sweet suffering. Oh, there are many more pleasant ways than murdering, sacrificing and devouring emotions piece by piece. Of course, you have to work hard to reach for them, what the rest of his counterparts did was simply the most effective.

He used to be like them... 

 but he fell into a long sleep... and found new ways... But now the increasing number of beings .  Who were interested in his part of the mist forced him to be more vigilant. The first meeting was also interesting.

This person fell off a steep cliff... he doesn't know if he jumped or if someone helped him, it didn't matter. Anyway, person couldn't swim, It was going to drown... but was he going to let that happen? No... if he can also complete his information about the outside world... without revealing himself yet.

Slowly he took this limp body between his tentacles... gently filled the space around it with air so it wouldn't suffocate and took it to his lair... we'll have to wait until victim wakes up...

(from this part we will try to speak from the position of the reader)

You woke up... and you felt a bit cold, it was wet all around, everything was damp and smelled of the sea... and seaweed. It was dark all around. You reached out and found something soft and slippery, squeezed it a couple of times, and it moved. You screamed in panic. But then you covered your mouth. The cave slowly filled with light, the small underwater plants gave you enough light. To understand. 

You were in a cave, there were huge octopus tentacles spread around you. You yourself were sitting on what was a large sea sponge.Last you remember when someone pushed you off a cliff and then you fell into the water and you couldn't swim and... then it went dark.

You looked around more and then you saw it, the owner of the tentacles. What half a man? half an octopus? It looked like it. You slowly got up... soft snoring meant it was sleeping. Can you escape? You slowly approached the mouth of the cave and your legs gave out under you. You were under water... the water surface at the mouth of the cave looked like you were in a big bubble of air. Little did you know that the quiet snoring had stopped and the owner of the place was carefully watching your every move, slightly amused.

- We are 40 meters under water... by your human measurements... and you can't swim, don't even try to escape. - He muttered softly and the tentacles slowly wrapped themselves around you. You started screaming, loudly terrified. Octopus, I think that was a bit of an annoyance. He covered your mouth with the end of his tentacle and waited for you to stop screaming.

You stopped and no one will hear you anyway. You shuddered, you've seen too many adult mangas to know how it ends.

 And yet no, the tentacles put you back on the sponge. - And now we'll talk ... - the octopus muttered softly, slightly changing his form to stand in front of you.

You swallowed... what you saw was too much like what you saw, every time you had trial , in that cursed fog.

[australianexpressremovals]

The True Cost of Moving Interstate in Australia: A Comprehensive Breakdown

Moving interstate in Australia is a major life event that involves not only logistical challenges but also financial considerations. Whether you're relocating for a job, family reasons, or simply seeking a change of scenery, understanding the cost factors involved in an interstate move is essential for budgeting and decision-making. Cost Of Moving Interstate Below, we explore the key factors that contribute to the overall cost of moving interstate and how you can plan accordingly.

1. Distance Between Locations

The most significant cost factor in an interstate move is the distance between your current and new home. Australia’s vast landscape means that even moving between neighboring states can involve hundreds, if not thousands, of kilometers. Removalist companies typically charge based on the distance traveled, so expect higher costs for longer hauls. For example, a move from Sydney to Melbourne may cost significantly less than a move from Perth to Brisbane, simply due to the greater distance.

2. Volume of Items

Another critical factor is the volume of belongings you're transporting. Removalist services often charge based on cubic meters of space your goods occupy in the moving truck. Larger households with more furniture, appliances, and personal belongings will naturally incur higher costs. A common way to estimate this is by calculating how many rooms' worth of items you're moving.

3. Type of Removalist Service

The type of service you choose will also influence the cost of your interstate move. Here are a few options:

Full-Service Removals: These companies take care of everything from packing your belongings, loading them into trucks, transporting them to the new location, and unloading them. This is the most convenient but also the most expensive option.

Backloading: If you're looking for a more budget-friendly option, backloading is worth considering. This involves sharing truck space with other customers who are moving in the same direction, significantly reducing your costs.

DIY Moves: If you're on a tight budget and willing to do the work yourself, hiring a truck and moving your own belongings can save a considerable amount of money. However, you'll need to consider fuel costs, time, and the risk of potential damage to your items.

4. Additional Services and Costs

Beyond the basic moving costs, there are several additional expenses to keep in mind:

Packing Materials: Boxes, bubble wrap, packing tape, and protective covers can add to the overall cost. Some removalists provide these as part of their service, but often, they come at an extra charge.

Storage: If there’s a gap between moving out of your old home and into your new one, you might need temporary storage. Storage fees can vary depending on the duration and size of the unit.

Insurance: Moving interstate carries inherent risks, such as potential damage to your belongings during transit. Opting for insurance provides peace of mind and ensures you're covered in case of accidents.

Pet Transport: For pet owners, moving your furry family members interstate can involve additional costs, especially if you’re using a specialist pet transport service.

Cleaning Fees: When vacating your old home, many landlords or real estate agents require professional cleaning, adding another line item to your moving budget.

5. Time of Year

The timing of your move can also affect costs. Peak moving periods, such as summer or the end of the year, tend to be more expensive due to high demand. If possible, plan your move during the off-peak season to take advantage of lower rates and increased availability of removalists.

6. State-Specific Costs

Different states may have different regulations, such as toll roads or permits required for moving trucks. For instance, moving into or out of New South Wales may involve more toll fees compared to moving within Queensland. It's essential to account for these state-specific costs when planning your move.

7. Fuel Costs

Fuel is a significant expense in long-distance moves, particularly for DIY moves where you're renting a truck. Professional moving companies often include fuel costs in their quotes, but it's always a good idea to double-check and ensure you’re not hit with surprise fees.

How to Save on Your Interstate Move

Moving interstate can be costly, but there are ways to cut down on expenses:

Declutter Before You Move: The fewer items you have, the cheaper the move. Consider selling, donating, or discarding items you no longer need.

Shop Around: Get quotes from multiple removalist companies to compare prices and services. Some companies offer price matching or discounts for early bookings.

Use a Backloading Service: If you're flexible with your moving date, backloading can save you a significant amount.

Move During Off-Peak Periods: Avoiding peak times like holidays and summer can lower your costs.

Conclusion

Moving interstate in Australia involves various factors that contribute to the overall cost, including distance, volume of items, and the type of removalist service you choose. By understanding these key components, Cost Of Moving Interstate you can better plan your budget and make informed decisions. For those looking for professional and reliable interstate moving services, Australian Express Removals offers comprehensive solutions tailored to your needs.

[cinematics123]

Soooo I’m really glad to respond to this and I think OP is kind of right in the way the show handles the Tsunami, but it actually makes a more sense from Eddie’s point of view, especially the tsunami was a real event.

First let’s look at the Tsunami and how the writing does it a disservice. A tsunami hit LA. A tsunami right off the coast. This is the worst disaster in American history. By far. Baseline, hundreds of thousands have died. Likely close to a million. When hit by a (potentially similar) tsunami during the (Boxing Day) Indian Ocean Tsunami of 2004, 25% of Banda Aceh, the nearest city, died.

Eddie went to the pier during the Ferris wheel rescue - the water is up to the middle of the wheel. The pier was obliterated. He saw that. Personally. No one could have survived that. The wheel is now more than a hundred feet (30 meters) off the coast - and under probably at least 20-30 feet (8-10 meters) of water.

When the tsunami arc ends, we don’t really hear about it again. Realistically, it would be the hinge or history for the West Coast. Before and after “it” happened. When Taylor Kelly introduces Buck in her book, it would start with “He was on the pier when it happened.” No wonder it would be a best seller. She dated him. The hero. The golden boy of golden boys. The show SHOULD have had Buck off the force because he is on a recruitment tour across the USA for first responders. LAFD would want Buck in bubble wrap - because he is their #1 recruiting asset and he would hate every moment of it.

When Eddie sees Chris, it is a few, stuttering heartbeats after Buck told him that he lost Chris. Eddie never had time to really internalize the thought that Chris was gone. Buck walked across half the city with only the thought that Chris was dead - and he died because of Buck. Their very different reactions are because of their different experiences.

For Eddie, who saw the pier only some God level of plot armor from Buck let his son (with mobility issues) get out from the pier. Buck must have been shitting miracles for them to survive. But Buck, spent hours etching every single second without Chris into the depths of his brain. We see Buck continuing to not be ok - which makes sense, he had PTSD! While all Eddie hears from Chris’s therapy sessions is how his mom is dead (an Eddie failure) and how Buck saved him.

I wish the writing had explored the actual consequences of the tsunami more - and the deep trauma and history it would have given everyone in LA. For instance, Buck being seen on a date with Tommy (or becoming openly bi) would actually be huge. It might appear in newspapers and magazines and set the stakes for Buck being open even higher.

The level headed blasé way Eddie reacted to his best friend losing his son during a tsunami tells me a thousand things about him. Chiefly that he is as above so below insane. Shrugging it off and dumping your son with him again the next DAY with. Not your fault champ. Could have happened to anyone. Anyway here’s pizza money you look like shit. That is the breezy reaction of a man who has experienced things that have made him Crazy. That is a Patrick Bateman for Catholics.

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[mfingenius]

Hey, I’d love a drarry in 4th year where Draco is Harry’s second task and/or they go together to the Yule Ball (a lot of provocation between them!)

Harry's staring; logically, he knows he should hurry, knows he doesn't have time to simply float around, contemplating life, but Malfoy is there, floating motionlessly beside Hermione and Gabrielle Delacour and Harry is confused.

Cho was obviously Cedric's task; that had been clear enough even before Cedric had grabbed her - while Harry had just watched, as confused as he is now - and Hermione has to be Krum's. There's no Durmstrang student, and - as far as Harry knows - Krum only talks to Hermione.

Gabrielle Delacour is Fleur's. She's her sister, it's as simple as that.

Which means that whoever designed this Merlin forsaken task thought Malfoy was 'what he'd sorely miss'.

Where the fuck were they getting their information?

Harry's startled out of his silent shock when Krum pushes by, half transformed into a shark, and frees Hermione.

He gives him an odd look while he swims back up, which is quite an impressive feat with what is possibly the least expressive animal's head as his own.

Right.

Right.

He frees Malfoy with a quick Diffindo, and grabs his wrist so he won't simply go away while he looks around; his time must be almost up - he can almost feel it, the effect of the gillyweed beginning to fade, his lungs beginning to feel unpleasant with water in them - which means Fleur needs to show up to get her sister, soon, but she's just - not.

He looks at Malfoy's face; he looks unexpectedly young and - handsome, almost - like this. There's no denying his aristocratic nose and high cheekbones are appealing - at least to Harry, who doesn't know how Ron could possibly think Malfoy's 'weird-looking' - but Harry doesn't usually have time to appreciate it, since Malfoy immediately ruins it by opening his mouth.

Fleur is still not showing up.

Gabrielle, who looks exactly like Fleur, looks like a kid even to Harry; if he'd been deemed too young to participate in the games, why is everyone in this task as young as he is, or younger?

Surely, he tries to reassure himself, the heads of school wouldn't let them rot here.

Even if the egg said they would, even if it said it 'wouldn't come back'. These are children.

Harry only has to ponder half a moment more before he decides that he doesn't trust adults that much.

A matching Diffindo frees Gabrielle, and he drags her and Malfoy up with merepeople grabbing at his feet, with his lungs filling with water, heart bursting in his chest and vision darkening at the edges because he can't breathe and he can't get out and-

He breaks the surface and hears screaming, and he's coughing up water and maybe blood - or maybe it's not his, but someone is bleeding, because the water around them is turning pink - and he wants to sink right back down, wants to rest.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle!" Fleur's shrieking is louder than anyone else's, but Harry thinks that's fair; he's never had a sibling, but he can't imagine thinking they were going to die because of a school approved activity.

Everyone else is cheering, he realizes; they're happy for him, for them, they think this is good.

He manages to catch sight of Cedric's, Krum's, and Fleur's faces, and none of them look like they're feeling anything even slightly positive.

"Potter?" He finally looks at Malfoy. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Harry can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. What is he doing? What was Malfoy doing, representing the thing Harry would sorely miss? Dumbledore - or the merepeople, or whoever made this decision - could've taken Ron, could've taken any Weasley, hell, they could've taken bloody Mrs. Norris, and Harry thinks they would've been a better choice than Malfoy.

He tightens his grip around Malfoy's and Gabrielle's arms, and begins dragging them towards the other contestants; as soon as they're there, hands are reaching in and pulling them all out, wrapping them in blankets, and Fleur is hugging Gabrielle and crying and Malfoy's teeth are chattering and Harry can still feel water in his lungs and he can't think.

"Merlin, Harry, you're bleeding!" Hermione exclaims.

Harry looks down and realizes she's right; the merepeople got him with their claws.

"Come on," she says, cheeks red from the cold. "We'll get you to the infirmary."

*

Slytherins keep making kissy sounds at him in the hallways, and it gets worse whenever Malfoy is around; he'd think this is Malfoy's doing, except the bastard looks just as embarrassed as Harry - if not more than Harry - when it happens.

They can't quite even look at each other anymore, let alone argue, because if they even say a word to each other, there are three dozen people suddenly watching.

Which is how Harry finds out he would kind of miss Malfoy if he were gone.

In the totally not friendly, even less romantic, entirely normal rival kind of way.

Obviously.

He likes to think Malfoy misses him a little bit too.

Which is, of course, why Harry seeks him out after checking the Marauders' map and making sure there's no one else within a hundred meters of them.

"What the-" Harry has to cover Malfoy's mouth, because if not, it would ruin his plan of quietly shoving Malfoy into the broom shed.

"Shut up, you git," he says, looking around and shutting the door behind him; Malfoy bites his hand, hard, and Harry muffles a yelp, pulling it back.

Malfoy smirks, looking quite pleased with himself, and Harry glares.

"What do you want?" Malfoy asks, looking around and upturning his nose; his features are decidedly less appealing when he's talking; Harry wants to shut him up. "Why'd you bring me here? It's disgusting, Potter."

And yeah, okay, the broom shed isn't quite nice - it has just as many spiders and much more dust than Harry's old cupboard under the stairs - but it's not like they could talk anywhere else.

"I didn't want other people listening," he says.

Malfoy looks at him incredulously. "Listening to what?"

Which makes Harry realize that he didn't really have a plan after this, and yeah, it might've been a bad idea.

What does he want to do? Talk to Malfoy? Apologize? For what? Insult the bastard? Argue? It wouldn't be too hard, considering Malfoy's a pointy, contrarious git, but Harry suddenly doesn't know why he dragged Malfoy in here, either.

He can't let Malfoy know that.

"You never thanked me," he says.

Malfoy's look turns more incredulous, first, and then his eyes narrow furiously, jaw tightening.

"Thanked you for what, Potter?" he asks, crossing his arms. "Making sure every single person in this awful school thinks we're secretly dating? Making sure I can't get down a bloody hallway without some idiotic Gryffindor asking me something beyond inappropriate about you? Making my parents think there's something going on between us so they're threatening to disown me?"

"What?" Harry asks, immediately thrown off. "Your parents would disown you if we were dating?"

Malfoy looks taken aback, like he didn't expect himself to say that, and he looks away. "Forget it. I'm not thanking you."

"Your parents would disown you for dating me?" Harry asks, still stuck on that fact. "Why?"

Malfoy looks troubled, and he shakes his head, looking at the door like he wants to flee; unfortunately for him, Harry's blocking it.

"Are we done here?" he asks. "I'd really rather not spend time in a shed with you."

"Oh, please, you'd love to spend time in a shed with me." Harry rolls his eyes, because he, too, is easy to goad into an argument, as long as it's Malfoy doing the goading.

"Yeah? What part of this do you think I'm loving?" Malfoy asks drily.

Harry doesn't have an answer except for the realization that he himself isn't having the worst time of his life. He isn't even having the worst time he's had today.

"Arguing," he says dumbly.

Malfoy looks at him incredulously again, and then he shakes his head, almost to himself.

"Go to the infirmary, Potter," he says, sliding past him, twisting himself in an almost impressive way so he doesn't touch Harry at all. "Tell Pomfrey to check for head injuries."

"Would you care if I did have a head injury?" Harry asks, already knowing he doesn't have one but not willing to quite reject the idea, because he's enjoying time with Malfoy. He's enjoying arguing with Malfoy.

Malfoy snorts and rolls his eyes. "Sure, Potter. If you end up in the infirmary with a head injury, I'll visit and even bring you flowers, I pinky swear."

He leaves the shed, and leaves Harry blinking after him.

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[nanaminokanojo]

Happenstance | Kamo Noritoshi

CHARACTERS: Kamo Noritoshi X You CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WORD COUNT: 2,287 GENRE: fluff | school au | archer!noritoshi | described reader appearance (i think) TRIGGER WARNING: very mild implied sleeping princess syndrome (somnophilia?) SPOILERS: n/a

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📸 photo credits to @/kawaiimallows22 on Pinterest

Sports fest – an idle time for most but to the athletes of the school.

Kamo Noritoshi was one of them, an archer for the school team and currently representing class two-six. It was a jovial time for most as there weren’t any homeroom activities, but to him, it was yet another one of those boring days in school. It wasn’t new to him nor was it a rare chance for him to get to play unlike the other students as almost every month, he’d join inter-school competitions, most of which were a piece of cake to him. He’d been slinging a bow and arrow since he was five after all. They were the best team there ever was to grace the school grounds and unless they graduate from the institution, there was no way they’d be beaten. It was routine, thus the boredom.

He glanced at his watch. It read exactly half past two. The game he was supposed to be in was already starting, but instead of being in the archery range to shoot some arrows, he was wandering inside the school building, particularly that of the freshmen’s area. It was way quieter there than the other places in the area since all of the students on that floor were excited for the games unlike the upper-class students who found the events of the day tedious. He couldn’t agree more with them. He couldn’t understand why there were such frivolous events apart from the necessary ones. They were of no importance to him and since his class had gotten into the finals, he wasn’t needed anymore.

He treaded his way through the quiet hallways, his footsteps echoing. The surroundings were quite eerie especially that the green glow from the sunlight which was being filtered by the ostentatious greenhouse cast itself across the pristine white walls. He walked the length of the plant conservatory where a few meters of turf had been laid out as a part of the semi-indoor landscape when a strange figure caught his eyes. His stroll halted as he turned on his heels to see what it was, pressing closer to the glass wall with his curiosity overriding him. He squinted, adjusting his vision to the brighter light.

On the grass, he could make out the shape of a person, lying down as if unconsciousness caught them in the middle of a promenade. He arched a brow when he noticed a glistening tuft of long hair on the grass. It was female student – you specifically. Alarmed, he ran back to where the entrance to the greenhouse was and frantically searched for you, thinking you were injured or ailing. He found you on the same spot. Hoping that you were fine, he knelt down beside you. You were lying on your side, your back to him, vulnerable to every single danger that the school grounds could expose you to.

“What are you doing here?” Noritoshi whispered to himself. Ever so carefully, he tried to turn you over so he could at least recognize you. He noticed your hand which held a crimson cravat. A senior, he thought. What was a senior doing at the freshmen’s area? He smirked. Then again, he was a junior and he was there.

Even after you turned over so you were lying on your back, your luxuriant tresses covered your face like a veil. Sucking in air, he reached over, but before he could even touch you, you began stirring. Your hands reached over to your face and brushed your hair absently from your face. A soft sigh escaped your mouth, the creases on your forehead caused by the disturbance slowly smoothing into a peaceful mask as your breathing steadied, your chest rising and falling at an even pace.

Noritoshi scrambled back, frowning when he realized that you hadn’t fainted. You were deliberately there, sleeping. He smiled in amusement, about to leave when a soft breeze managed to make its way through the open vents of the glass dome, rustling the vegetation along with the your dark hair. Suddenly, he found himself taken by the sight of you slumbering before his feet. Your lean, long legs were slightly bent to the right, barely concealed by the short skirt that was your uniform which clung to your hips deliberately, tracing your delicate contours.

His eyes trailed upwards to your face, cheeks lightly flushed and glowing with a healthy tinge of faded roses, lashes thick enough to cast shadows on your cheeks and lips that were the shade of cherries, slightly fuller on the lower part, all framed by sable hair that had lush curls near the tips, scattered on the grassy ground in reckless abandon. You were beautiful…like a garden nymph.

He was enthralled, no other words. He found himself unable to move, wondering where he had seen such a face. He doubted it that you’ve encountered each other since he never really went to the senior department. Aside from that, he never bothered to look at the people in the school long enough in all his two years stay in the institution unless he had something to do with them. He blinked slowly. For the first time, he found himself breathless for someone and he wasn’t expecting that he’d see it in an unconscious girl in the greenhouse.

Thump. Thump.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart racing the more he stared at the nameless goddess in front of him. With his body finding a mind of its own, he found himself leaning over you until your faces were but a measly inch away from each other. Slowly, his eyes began to droop until they closed, making his lips touch with your slightly open ones. He’d never had the urge to kiss someone so badly and now that he had the chance, you weren’t even responding. He relished the feel of your mouth against his, yielding and soft like candy floss to the slightest of pressures.

What are you doing attacking an unconscious person? Isn’t that cowardly, a nagging voice in his head said, making him snap out of it. He inched away from your sleeping figure and swallowed hard, shaking his head, eyes wide when he realized what he just did. It was so uncommon for him to be losing his mind over anyone. I didn’t just do that.

He glanced at the you, trying to clear his head. He sat down on the grass just beside you, looking up. Frustration took over him, chastising himself for the recklessness of his actions. He thought of how it would look like if the you actually woke up and caught him red-handed. He shrugged the thought off, just glad that you didn’t.

Minutes turned to hours and he still stayed there. The urge to protect you was strong and yet he wasn’t really protecting you, was he? What if it was your first kiss? How he dreaded the thought that he stole it and he didn’t even know whether you liked it or not. He felt loathing for himself when he realized that he was as good as an offender, harassing the you while you slept.

His eyes made its way towards the your tranquil form again and to his surprise, your eyes were open, hazel ones that reflected the canopy of leaves above you. You looked rather disoriented, but even as your vision wandered to him, clear and bright under the afternoon sun, enhancing your features, you exhibited no surprise.

His guilt took the best of him and made him inch away from you, watching as you stretched your arms and blinked sleepily. You pushed yourself up and regarded him with a sleepy smile.

Finally, the goddess spoke. “To what do I owe the honor?” you asked.

Puzzled, Noritoshi shook his head slowly. “Excuse me?”

You sighed, but was happy to repeat yourself. “I said –”

Noritoshi was torn between laughter and frowning. “I heard what you said, but…”

You giggled a bit, narrowing your eyes at him before covering your mouth to yawn. “Now I know why girls fawn over you.”

His brows shot up. “Excuse me?” he said, this time with more edge to it.

Your eyes widened a bit and you fidgeted with your cravat, your shoulders tensing. You winced, returning his gaze with your left eye closed and your right eye slightly squinting. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

Noritoshi shook his head. “No… You don’t get it…”

You relaxed. “What don’t I get?” You lightly scratched the back of your head. “Sorry. I just woke up…er…which you already knew.” You shook your head and rubbed at your eyes.

His head tilted to the side. “You know me.”

At that, you burst into bubbles of laughter. “School team archer, Kamo Noritoshi, who outshines the captain? Who wouldn’t?”

His heart fluttered. The fact that you knew him made him feel glad and guilty at the same time. You knew him and with beauty like yours, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he never noticed you before. He shrugged, your words finally sinking in and he momentarily forgot about what he did. “Not really…”

“And yet I hear rumors about you having to hide in the men’s lavatory because a mob is chasing after you. You’ve got to be kidding me.” You straightened up. “Come on. No need to be humble.” You were easy-going and cheerful, that much he’d figured out. And you also liked to talk. You apologized for your comments and asked, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

He flashed you a half smile. “I didn’t want to.” He shrugged then. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for your class?”

You blew a raspberry. “I’d rather sleep.”

“Figures.”

You stood up. “I’m going home. Nice talking to you.” You began to make your way out of the greenhouse, waving with your cravat. “See you around.”

Noritoshi stood up and before he could even realize what he was doing, he seized you by the wrist, stopping your progress. You turned around and eyed his hand on yours which he quickly withdrew. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly.

You smiled. “It’s fine. Do you need anything?”

“Your name…” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

He looked up. “Your name. I…uh…I didn't catch it.”

Your eyes twinkled as you chuckled. “I didn’t mention it.”

Noritoshi’s face heated up and he didn’t need a mirror to tell how badly he was blushing. He looked down.

You bent down slightly. “Are you alright? You’re red,” you said, a confirmation of his thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes. I-it’s hot…that’s all.”

You giggled. “It’s Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“My name is L/N Y/N.”

Y/N. Pretty. He nodded. “L/N Y/N. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s just Y/N,” you half-whined and pouted a bit. “Do you want me to call you *kohai?”

He shook his head, feeling the slightest annoyance when you suggested it. “N-no.”

“Then call me Y/N and I’ll call you…”

“Idiot?” he said absently, shook his head upon realization and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m kidding.”

“Noritoshi?” you offered, the way his name rolled out of your tongue making him want to hear it more.

“Okay.”

“Noritoshi it is. Bye, Noritoshi.”

You started to walk away again, but he realized it was his chance to make it up to you although you didn’t know what has happened. “Y/N.”

You turned on your heels and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Mind if I walk you home?” he blurted out.

You took his hand. “Not at all, but we should get going before your fan girls start chasing after me.”

Noritoshi chuckled and led the way. You both exited the gate and you just directed him to where you were going, your shoulders touching from time to time as you walked. You didn’t live far from the school just a few blocks and soon, the of you were standing in front of a dainty-looking house with two floors surrounded with lawn and fences the color of faded limes.

“This is me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you want to walk me to my door?” you asked, voicing Noritoshi’s thoughts out.

“S-sure.”

You chuckled. “Are you always this articulate?”

He chuckled along with you, suppressing the urge to smile like an idiot until you’ve reached the door.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“You’re welcome and…”

You clasped your hands behind you and tilted sideways, your hair falling over your shoulder like it had a life of its own. “And?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

You frowned slightly. “Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

Noritoshi placed a hand behind his neck. “I’m going.”

“Okay, but before that, I’m sorry, too.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“I’m sorry for this.” Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck, stood on your toes and let your lips meet in a bold kiss.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened, but he’d soon grown accustomed to your lips which he already kissed while you were sleeping. Chills ran up and down his spine, as the urgency in your kiss heightened from just a simple contact to a kind of potent wanting. His arm found its way around your waist, holding you closer, not caring if anyone saw you as long as he was happy where he was at the moment.

He was still dazed by the time you pulled back, but contrary to his expectation for you to move further away, you leaned closer to his ear and said, “Naughty Noritoshi stealing a kiss from sleeping Y/N.”

He froze. You knew.

Finally you stood back from him, gave him one last peck on the cheek and winked at him as you opened the front door. “See you at the greenhouse, kiss thief.”

-END-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*kohai (後輩) junior i.e. a person of lower grade/class/age (in school/at work) to the speaker

@fushigummy You asked, I delivered. XD did I do the man justice?

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [DATE]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.