#Hopefully will keep it up for at least a week - or longer - though I may have to skip days in the middle

[lucalicatteart]

cannot resist using the polls to make up a little collaborative story lol.. Not sure how much I can keep it up with my low energy/health problems lol, but I'll try to draw a new picture (+ write a small text blurb and new action options to vote on) each day based on the past day's results, at least for a while. Kind of like a 'sketch a day' type challenge, except story based with votes choosing what happens next. :0

[ughdontbeboring]

Wasted Days

Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Feyd’s mood is easily soured by what he calls “wasted days”.

warnings: Feyd-let’s be honest the man is a menace. Smut and murder 🫠

note: I really wanna thank all y'all babes on the love my first Feyd story got. It reached over 500 notes in just a couple weeks and thats HUGE for me. So y’all are the best! Hopefully y’all enjoy this just as much. It’s not the 2 Feyd stories I said I’d put out but the one y’all voted on will be done before the weekend is over! I don’t own dune or any characters. I couldn’t give a fuck less about typos or misspelling sorry not sorry y’all lol

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

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You watch the table of the formal dinning room shake beneath both your palms. The rare jewels that adorned your hands and writs glistened under the artificial light, gifts of your adoring husband. All the expensive glasses and dinnerware shake and rattle with each thrust into your wet cunt. 

The baron had just abruptly left the table to talk with Rabban who had busted in on the dinner the three of you were having with urgency, some business with Arrakis. 

You couldn’t care less about Rabban’s sudden appearance on his home planet, your husband had seemed to be in a mood all day. Frustrated with something he had yet to reveal to you, though you had a sneaking suspicion the whole day what had soured his mood so noticeably. He’d been so busy lately with everything while the Baron’s focus was on Arrakis and cleaning up behind Rabban. 

He didn’t have to stare at you the way he did during dinner for you to know he was in a mood, he had fled your room early after kissing you while you slept. 5 servants dead simply because of your husbands mood. You’d talk to him later about it and surely scold him when you were thinking clearly. 

Right now your only focus was your current situation and how your screams of pleasure would surly rival any whore house.

The large doors to the dinning hall were hardly closed when he had you trapped within his warm embrace. Your back to his chest as he nosed at your neck, licking and biting. Groaning how displeased he was that he hardly had time with you today. He had no time at all today to sink his hard cock into his wife’s tight little cunt.

He declared how any day he didn’t fuck his wife full of his cum at least once was a day wasted. 

A yell was ripped from your throat as he stepped closer, his knees slightly bent as he thrusted up into you harder, a tight hold on the root of your hair that had been braided. The table shook violently. The loud clatter starting to drown out the sound of your slick cunt and slapping skin. 

“Oh fuck!” You yelled out, no longer concerned the Baron or Rabban may possibly come back with how good your husband was making you feel. He was so deep, you were sure you’d start to see the stars of your old home planet if he kept fucking you like this bent over the table that you’ve hosted the emperor and nobility at. 

Hell the whole of Giedi Prime could watch and you’d bask in the power and ecstasy of being taking apart by none other then thee Feyd Rautha. 

You heard him grunt deep from within his chest from behind you. 

His hands are bruising on your round ass as he grips the flesh and spreads you wide open for him. You don’t have to look back to know where his lustful gaze is, you feel it burning into you. He groans from the view of your wet cunt sucking all of him in to the hilt. You clench involuntarily from the weight of his gaze and moans when you feel it. You’re still spread open when you feel the wetness on your puckered hole before it slowly drips down to where you both connect.

Your eyes roll back from the sensation as he keeps fucking into you watching himself completely disappear into your swollen cunt.

“Good fucking girl” his rasps as you take all of him. 

“Oh, nggh fuck!” You yelled trying to catch your breath, each thrust of his large cock punching the air from your lungs at this angle. Your heeled feet hardly touching the cold marble floors from the force of him behind you. “Feyd, gonna fu-fucking c-cum all over you! M’ ma-make a mess!”.

Your husband didn’t need to be told, even with your short time together he knew you inside and out like no one else. Literally. Much to his surprise and everyone else it had only took a brief moment of your eyes locking at a ball held by the emperor -which Feyd was forced to attend by his uncle for appearances sake- for Feyd to fall completely for you. The night wasn’t over before you had fallen in return for the ruthless na-Baron. 

This seemed to please your husband if the groans he was making were any indication.

“Fuck this is the sweetest cunt in the whole fucking galaxy and it is mine” he grunted in his raspy voice above you, you had falling forward at some point from the force of his thrusts, your palms flat and elbows on the table. 

“P-please don’t stop!” 

You felt Feyd’s strong hands grip your shoulders and pull you back forcefully. The sudden moment causing a gasp to leave you. There you both stood, your back to his chest, his hand in your hair as he fucked you deep. The drag of his cock was driving you insane. You felt so full of him this way. You felt his blacken teeth nip your ear. 

“You said you’d make a mess, go ahead little wife. Make a mess all over me” His rough voice encouraged as his full lips sucked the skin just below your ear. “Cum for me” He whispered. 

“Fuck!” You yelled out as your body jerked and the tidal wave of your orgasm came crashing down on you. Drowning you completely in the pleasure only he was able to take your body through. 

“Do not spill me wife” you heard his low begging against your neck.

You felt him continue to pump into you as you slowly started to come down from your high as you felt him swell within you. The feel of him, the sounds he was making had your body quickly chasing him again. 

Your eyes meet his as you started to rock into him again. He smirked he already knew. Knew what you need from the way those big beautiful eyes stared at him. He was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, the same hand that killed others daily but would never dream of hurting you in a way that wasn’t pleasurable. 

“Please kiss me” You choked out, hardly getting your words out as you watched him watch you. 

His lips were on yours dominating you completely before you finished begging him. His tongue licking into your mouth. You felt the slight movement of his rhythm being off and knew he was close. 

Your hand slips down to your cunt, working your wet clit softly to compliment the rough fucking when you felt the first bit of his warmth. You moaned loudly in his mouth before pulling away so you were able to watch his face of pleasure as he took you, fill you with his seed. 

Feeling full of him and filling with his seed pushed you over the edge again as your mouth fell open with a scream. Your eyes never left his as he stared down at you with that look you’ll never get over. Here you were fucked stupid and yet he looked at you like you hung the moon.

Your body shook and you almost fell forward with the strength of your second orgasm when his strong battle ready arm wrapped around you keeping you in place, slightly off the floor so he could keep his cock in at this angle. His other hand tightened around your throat as you both stared at each other, you breathing uncontrollable while your infuriating handsome husband looked like he had only exerted a little effort. Years of training did him well.

He kept his hand at your neck, tighten and relaxing his grip as his other hand sank down to your swollen cunt. His eyes showed amusement as he smirked down at you. Sometimes you’d give anything to know what he was thinking and other times he let you see, those big beautiful blue eyes either an ocean storm or a clam one would openly say what his words sometimes failed to. 

He tsked at you when you felt him work you clit a little before his long fingers brushed softly where you both were still very much connected. 

“Such a greedy girl” His rough voice teased you for chasing a second orgasm before you both could make it back to your shared bedchambers. 

You whimpered at the loss of him when he pulled out but you noticed he didn’t pull away. Before you could comment you felt his long thick fingers ease themselves into your wetness. 

You moaned as you sunk into back into his chest.

“Since my wife is such a needy one why don’t you give me one more hm? One for good luck?”

You knew you sounded ridiculous as you laughed but quickly moaned at his words you. You could tell he was curious about the laugh that has escaped you. 

“Good luck for who husband?” You asked genuinely and breathlessly as you stared at him. His fingers never stopped working you.

He looked as though the answer was obviously.

“Everyone”

You could feel the pressure building in you. You arched an eyebrow in question but could not speak words as your orgasm quickly approached. 

“Your husband is less likely to kill when his wife is well pleased” He said his forehead against yours as he pushed you both into the heavy table trapping you between literally a rock and hard place. You felt yourself clench as your pleasure flooded you “Less likely to kill when I have already fill you with my seed for the day”.

You were sure he was making you see those stars.

His grip on your neck tighten while your body shook as much as it could being trapped. You were so worked up you couldn’t even talk as you both stared at eachother. Him watching you reach another wave of ecstasy by his hand. Chest full of pride. 

Your breathing once again slowed as you kissed his lips, pecking them over and over as your hand ran up his neck and around trying to embrace him from the position you were in. 

He pulled you both back from the table before pulling out and letting your dress fall back down. His fingers were in your mouth before you could notice as you both now stood face to face. You did your wifely duty and sucked them clean while keeping eye contact with him. 

His look of approval was all you needed in your day to day life. The shame taught to you of doing such things as a noble woman long abandoned with him by your side. 

His eyes left yours to glance down at his soften cock, wet with you before his blue eyes moved to the floor where you two were standing moments before to see the mess of you both. 

You watched him tuck himself away before taking a napkin and quickly cleaning the floor. He had this thing with anyone coming close to your…release. The thought of anyone else touching or even smelling it drove him into a rage. 

He smirked as he stuffed it in his pocket. Hie eyes finally landing back on yours.

“Well wife looks like you’ll just have to take me again and this time I won’t let you leave the bed until you listen like a good wife and do not spill me”

You felt the familiar tingles of pleasure at your core from his threats. 

x

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😅🫠

[august-anon]

A Friendly Spar

For Tickletober Day 18: Tickle Fight

Late again!!! Because I also did not have a chance to edit it until last night!! Apologies, and curse real life obligations!

BUT I am caught up now and hopefully can get the rest of the fics i have for the month edited and posted on time lol

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Fandom: BNHA

Ship(s): EraserMic

Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Hizashi/Switch!Shouta

Word Count: 967 words

Summary: After so long, sparring has become a sort of love language.

[ao3 link]

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After fifteen years of friendship, and over a decade of romance, any relationship would develop its fair share of little quirks. One of their special little quirks was their love languages.

Oh, sure, they had the typical ones. Hizashi thrived on physical touch and words of affirmation (not Shouta’s strong suit at all, but he tried, and Hizashi loved him for that), and Shouta’s was undeniably acts of service. But the one love language they had perfectly in common?

Sparring.

It probably had something to do with growing up in the hero sphere, and training until they dropped during their formative high school years. Shouta especially had a tendency to work himself to exhaustion, always needing to be the best of the best. Somewhere along the way, between the two of them and Oboro (not to mention Nemuri and Tensei, at times), sparring became more enjoyable, and even fun at times.

It was something they carried with them well into adulthood, and working at UA certainly came with its perks to support that – like constant free access to any of the near-dozen gyms on campus, granted that there were no students using it at the time.

And sparring didn’t have to be serious, Hizashi thought as he dodged another swipe from Shouta’s devious fingers. In fact, their spars rarely managed to be serious anymore – they both got enough of that, between training the next generation of heroes and their own regular hero work. This particular spar had devolved almost immediately, both of them needing to let off a little steam after a long week of teaching and cases that went nowhere.

“You can’t run forever,” Shouta grunted, rebalancing himself on his toes after his failed strike.

“And you can’t chase me forever,” Hizashi said, spinning away. 

He’d demanded Shouta remove his capture scarf for the spar – it gave him an unfair advantage that Hizashi was not willing to concede to that evening. He wasn’t that desperate for a laugh, at least not yet. No, right now he wanted even odds and a fair chance to win. He was dying to see that healthy, laughter-induced flush on Shouta’s cheeks as well, and nothing was going to keep him from his prize.

“I’ve chased more difficult opponents for longer. I think my stamina is up to par. Is yours?”

Hizashi gave him a salacious grin. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night, mister.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You love it.”

“I love you – have you considered the idea that there may be a difference?”

“Mmm, nope!”

Hizashi dodged another strike, this time redirecting it in order to bring himself closer to Shouta. He slipped one hand up Shouta’s loose muscle shirt, searching out any tickle spots he could find on the sweat-slicked skin. He used the other to pull Shouta close and hold him there, well aware he was leaving himself open for attack. It was no fun if Shouta didn’t fight back, after all.

“Dammit, Zashi!”

“What, does that tickle? Just a little? You can go ahead and laugh, I won’t tell anyone. Your scary reputation can stay intact.”

“Fuck you!”

“Been there, done that. Weren’t you listening?”

Though his squirming and escape attempts didn’t stop, Shouta buried his face into Hizashi’s neck, leaning his weight against Hizashi and huffing strangled breaths against his skin. Hizashi shivered, then squeaked. He grabbed Shouta’s hip to ground himself, only to finally make Shouta crack and huff a laugh into his neck.

“What, does that tickle?” Shouta chuckled against his throat, scruff and hot breath wreaking havoc on his nerves. “Just a little?”

“Wait, Shouta, please!” Hizashi’s giggles were high pitched and frantic, almost too thick to speak through.

Shouta’s own laughter, on the other hand, was deep and rich and only made his voice even more unfairly attractive. “You’re the one who grabbed me.”

That was true. Hizashi planted both hands against Shouta’s middle, preparing to shove him away, only for Shouta to grab his wrists in a vice grip. Before Hizashi could blink, he was spun around so his back was pressed to Shouta’s chest, arms crossed over his own chest as Shouta continued to grip his wrists and hold him close. Shouta’s face quickly found its way back to Hizashi’s neck, nuzzling and nibbling and huffing horribly ticklish breaths all over. Hizashi squealed, barely holding back his Quirk. They did not need the windows repairs taken out of their paychecks. Again.

“Perhaps,” Shouta whispered right up against the shell of his ear, “it would do you well to remember who your opponent is, and how frequently he kicks your ass.”

Hizashi shrieked and giggled and tried to kick back at Shouta’s shins. “Just you wait until I get your neck!”

“Oh no. I’m so scared.”

Gritting his teeth against his smile, Hizashi threw his weight backwards, catching Shouta off guard in a rare moment, and landed them both on the floor. This was serious now, and Hizashi didn’t intend to lose. He went for the kill immediately, straddling Shouta and shooting one hand back toward his thigh and the other toward his ear. On the other side of Shouta’s neck, Hizashi buried his face and did his best to nuzzle his mustache into the skin.

Shouta howled, trying to buck Hizashi off to no avail. Instead, he brought his hands up to vibrate into Hizashi’s ribs. Hizashi faltered for only a moment, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and roll off Shouta for his own protection. Instead he steeled himself and forced himself to hold still, cackling into Shouta’s neck.

“Give up!” Shouta choked out through his laughter.

“You first!” Hizashi wheezed.

It was a good thing they had this gym booked for the next hour, because Hizashi doubted either of them would concede any time soon.

[random-potat]

and they were roommates - kjs. - pt. 5

part 5. matching items (wc. 1.4k)

Walking into your now temporary home was nerve-wracking to say the least.

Rolling your luggage into the hallway, some staff come toward you and mic you up. 

As they do, a woman with a clipboard comes over your way.

“Hello YN, I’m Producer Han. A little rundown of what you have to do. You walk into the living room and wait for the rest of the people to come in, and then introductions are made. You guys do a little tour together and just some fun icebreakers. Two episodes will be aired every week, making it six episodes in total. Don't worry every week there will be two missions. Got it?” 

You nod your head and put on a brave smile. “Yes, I understand.” 

“OK, great. Just go in and sit, you can leave your luggage with you or to the side. Keep it natural.” Han PD flashes you a smile as she leaves. 

As you walk to the living room, you take it all in. The room itself is an open concept, you can see the kitchen and an exit to what may seem to be the back patio. The house alone was modern, and you assume the decor was basic so everyone could decorate together.

Sitting down on the couch closest to the edge, you see that the camera crew is already set up and rolling. “OK, idol mode, on,” you think to yourself.

Sitting down on the couch, you think about what to say, coming up with the conclusion that you have no clue at all what to do when everyone arrives. It felt like the beginning of a new school year, where teachers would make students get up and introduce themselves. You breathe in and out. “Just act natural. You've seen these people at music shows. Heck! You're even close friends with one of them!”

Not much later, you hear the sound of wheels entering the hallway. Knowing that the cameras were rolling, you tried to make sure it didn't seem like you were too nervous.

“Please be another girl, I have no clue what to do if it's a male idol.” You beg the gods who were in charge of this.

To your relief, a familiar figure came into view. The face of one of, if not, your closest friend that you’ve trained with for three years. Under the same company as you, a nervous Choi Youngjae from TWS walks in.

As he spots you, he lets out a huge breath that he didn’t notice he was holding in. Both of you guys form a smile, running up to one another and going in for a loose and friendly hug, knowing that there won’t be any big reaction considering that both of your guys’ fans are very aware of your platonic bond.

As you guys walk back to the couch together, you guys begin to talk.

“You think it's going to alternate? Like a girl group first, then a boy group, then another girl group idol?” Youngjae asks.

“Hopefully, I don’t want to be stuck with you for much longer,” you joke as Youngjae teasingly rolls his eyes.

Back on the couch, your nerves have calmed a little knowing you have Youngjae with you.

“Even though we know the lineup, it’s still nerve-wracking having to come individually,” you continue.

“I know right, anyway, show me what you bought for the first mission,"  Youngjae agrees as he tries peeking into your bag.

“No! What the heck!” You respond as you try stopping him.

The two of you continue to bicker until you hear the sound of wheels rolling on the floor again, making the both of you straighten up. 

One by one, the rest of your now roommates walked in: Haneul of Kiss of Life, Ni-ki of Enhypen, Siyoon of Billlie, and Jongseob of P1Harmony.  

Everyone almost came in the exact same way: shy awkward smiles, accompanied with polite bows and quiet hellos, alongside small talk being made as everyone waited for the next person. 

“So what’s your MBTI?” 

“ISFJ, how about you?” 

“INFP.” 

“Ah, I… what’s yours?” 

“Uhm, INTJ.” 

“Huh, so we’re all I.”

Although you have seen some of them at music and two of them at the company building, you really didn’t know what to do. The whole show in itself was a disaster in the making, as many girl group and boy group interactions received mixed reactions. 

As you all sit there, you all sort of awkwardly make eye contact with one another, until the PD hands Siyoon a card. 

She reads, “Welcome to your new home!” Everyone claps and cheers. 

“For the next six weeks, the six of you guys will be roommates. Throughout the show, you guys will be given missions as well as just living your regular lives,” Siyoon continues as everyone nods. 

“As you can see, the place is a little bit bland, which is why the first mission was given a week in advance of filming. Today’s mission: bring one or two items to decorate the house with. These items can also represent you.” 

Siyoon finishes, “Ok, who wants to go first?” 

The room is filled with awkward silence and stares. 

With some hesitation, Haneul raises her hand and speaks, “I can go first!” 

“Thank goodness there’s an extrovert between the six of us,” you think, grateful for Haneul’s initiative. 

She goes and brings a big bag with her to the sofa.  

“It’s kind of more than two items, but I thought they would make nice gifts as well.” She first brings out a set of triple hooks. 

“This will make sense in a second.” She points out. 

She then individually brought out six faux leather bags, with all of them looking like they were decorated with some things. 

“Ok, so let me explain. One of my hobbies is doing crafts and DIY’s, so I brought bags for all of us and decorated them for all of us." She then gets up and hands the respective bag to each of you. 

"I don’t really know what all of you guys like, so I decorated them pretty vaguely. Maybe we can add to them in the next few weeks.”

You were left stunned. Almost all of you were. 

“Wow! Now I don’t know how any of us are going to top that.” Ni-ki says, with everyone agreeing. 

After everyone introduces their items, with Siyoon bringing cute ceramic mugs for everyone, Ni-ki with matching pyjama sets from Peach John, and Youngjae bringing badminton equipment alongside various sports equipment, as well as a gag item that his members sneaked in, some cleaning supplies. 

Let’s just say Youngjae was pleased with the supplies considering he didn’t know anyone’s cleaning habits. Besides you. And you are quite cluttered.

You and Jongseob were the last two people to introduce your items. 

Although nervous, you went next. “My items are not much, but I think they are things that we can all use.” 

You first grab out a Polaroid camera and some film. “I thought this would be really fun to have to capture all of our memories, as well as...”  

You grab a heavier object from your bag. “A cookie jar for us! I make a lot of cookies, and I thought it would be fun to bake them together and put them here for us to snack on.” 

“YES!” Youngjae exclaims. “Y/N makes the best cookies!” 

You shake your head and laugh at Youngjae’s exclamations. “I really don’t,” you reply. 

Last but not least, Jongseob was up.

He clears his throat. “Mine isn’t much either, but the first thing is a radio speaker.” He shows off a modern yet retro-looking speaker.  

“Because we’re all singers, I thought it would make sense for us to listen to music together. Uh, we can also connect our phones to it, but there’s something more nostalgic using actual CD’s, so I brought some of those too.” 

“And lastly, I didn’t really know what else to bring, but one of my members said I should bring this.” He brings out a cork board.  

“Ooh, we have matching items!” you exclaim impulsively. 

He laughs, "Yeah, it was kind of a coincidence, but we can hang this and put our polaroids from Y/N’s camera on here,” he points out. 

Wrapping up the small mission, all of you guys get up, and with the PD’s order, you guys have all the freedom. 

“Let’s go tour the place!” Haneul calls out. 

As the guys and girls separate to leave their things in their rooms before the tour, Jongseob can’t help but think to himself.

“No wonder I brought a cork board,” he thinks, looking at your figure that was a little ahead of him. Jongseob shakes his head. “Keeho for sure planned that out.”

a/n: a fully written chapter was very much tiring (ᵕ—ᴗ—) honestly didn't think i was going to write this much but here we are, just little intro things, feeling like this will be sort of slow burn-ish but so far im enjoying writing it and coming up with ideas so hope you guys are enjoying it too even tho its very early stages!!! also im like on my second week of school and it's already kicking me in the butt but womp womp

synopsis: With long-time K-pop fans asking for another season of the infamous variety show We Got Married, MBC brings it back with a spin-off, We Became Roommates. As a way to bring K-pop fans together, the first season involves six idols born in 2005. With seeing each other every day, doing missions for every episode, making memories, and fans watching and shipping, blossoming friendships and a bubbling romance can't be helped. pairing: idol!jongseob x fem idol!reader genre: idol au, crack, fluff, humour, coworkers to friends to lovers

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[floydstruly]

i know it’s been too long.

synopsis: it’s cold, much too cold for a student from Royal Sword Academy—so Floyd figures out a solution that benefits the both of you.

cw. nothing! Yay! It’s just pure fluff >__< not proof read though also! No use of y/n or any mention of name I hate using that so umm not really warning free but still! Whatever!

note. someone give me a request or talk to me in my inbox I’m so bored

pairing: floyd x gn!reader

Winter break is just a week away but even so, it is needlessly gloomy today, clouds shroud the tops of the school and the rain falls down relentlessly, the class is all but silent as your teacher forces you to sit down, lecturing you on the past monarchies–princes, princesses, kings, queens.

You're sure if Floyd was attending Royal Sword Academy with you, he’d be bored half to death. You jot a couple notes down with your ink pen, in the corner of your page is a doodle of what is your best attempt at an eel–or more like Floyd.

Oh, that’s right. You sit up straighter and shudder at the sound of his name in your mind, you promised that you would go and see him during winter break. The thought of going to Night Raven College by yourself, with no entourage or teachers or friends terrifies you.

You think of all the eyes that will follow you around the halls and rude remarks you will receive–it scares you enough to listen to the professor. You immerse yourself in the lecture, trying to keep your mind away from all the possible things that could happen over the break.

Maybe it’ll be worth it if you get to be with your boyfriend, but still, hopefully winter break doesn’t come soon.

No one is around.

You can hear little woodland creatures chittering and the echoes of laughter amidst the snow. The plants are covered in a thin, fragile layer of frost–once green, but now, all wilted and lifeless from the relentless weather. The snowfall flutters down in a serene, peaceful way; like powder, covering the once barren rival campus in a pure white.

Along with the winter season comes the cold, crisp air that continuously nips at you, your skin red with what is reminiscent of blush. You should’ve worn a layer more–you feel as though you will freeze over the longer you spend outside.

You can’t help but admire the spectacle, although it may not be anything special, it reminds you of your home, which doesn’t seem so far away anymore. As you reluctantly trek through the snow and towards the college, it crunches down under your weight.

A cold breeze passes by as you walk, you shiver, burying your face into the scarf Floyd gifted you not so long ago. It craves itself with the image of an eel, wrapping around your neck and comforting your loneliness with what is reminiscent of him. You take a breath in, it still smells like him, sort of like fresh river water.

It’s hard to remember the last time you’ve seen him.

“Shrimpy!” A shrill, excited voice calls out to you when you poke your head into the Monstro Lounge curiously.

That’s right, it’s been at least four months since you’ve last heard that voice in person. Knowing the contempt that Night Raven students have for the ‘pissy and pauper’, you’ve never once tried to venture too far outside of Royal Sword Academy, let alone think about it with the exception of school events.

That’s what you look forward to most–because those are the only times you see Floyd, really.

You can feel a couple watchful eyes on you and your uniform as white as snow, completely untarnished and the face of perfection. You adjust your clothes under the weight of their gaze nervously, you’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have come to spend the holiday with Floyd.

“See? Told yah this was a good idea, they like you already!” You’re not sure that ‘like’ was the right word, maybe something more akin to disdain or loathing. He smiles and waves his hand to beckon to follow him, his rows of pearly, sharp teeth only add to your unease.

You oblige, allowing yourself to be whisked away by merman.

The heart of the fireplace beats against the two of you, slowly chasing away the remains of the harsh winter cold. Floyd is sprawled against the velvety couch in the VIP lounge, his head rested soundly on your lap. You sit stiffly in place and push his hair aside to allow yourself to admire his features more closely.

You’re all alone again, but it feels much more welcoming now.

His fingers find their way under your eel-like scarf, you shudder at the touch of his skin against yours–fingertips pressing against your ever increasing pulse. It’s a foreign, his hands are cool. But you don’t try to swat his hand away, instead, you sigh and press the palm of his closer to your neck.

“You cold?” He asks, shifting his body, sitting up and pushing the scarf away from your neck. You nod quietly in response, underneath the soft, woolly fabric, he manages to make you grin for a moment–melting the confines of your enclosed heart.

He unravels the scarf and tosses it on the dirty floor, exposing your neck to the open air–it doesn’t help at all, but you can’t help but laugh. It takes a moment and comes out gradually, first, as a snicker, then into a giggle, and lastly, into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, “did I help?”

“No,” you shake your head, your smile finally reaches your eyes, “can I have my scarf back? That just made me colder.”

“You don’t need that stupid thing, you have me.” He buries his head into your neck in place of the scarf, his arms around your waist in a constrictive embrace. It doesn’t help either, he is cold blooded after all. You can feel his teeth nip at your skin, just as the air did outside not so long ago. But it’s much more pleasant.

“Stupid?” you ask as you return the hug, “you gave that to me.”

“You have the real Floyd right here! You can have it back after winter break, just pay attention to me for now, I missed you lots.”

For some odd reason, it feels a lot warmer now.

“Yeah, don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me more often.”

Maybe, you can ignore all the hate filled stares if it means just a moment longer with Floyd.

“I missed you too.”

[readychilledwine]

A Throne for a Queen

SJM Villain's Week - Day 4 - Their Reign

Summary - Maeve's gatherings always tend to put her in a special mood, you just had to wait in anticipation to get to experience it.

Warnings - Exibitionism/Voyeurism, fxf, heavy petting, reader is a glorified lapcat, power kink, set up for PWOP, implied previous smut, mutual pinning

A/n - Happy Day 4 of @sjmvillainweek. This is our cutesy drabble for today, especially with Eyes on Me being planned for day 7. Throne for a Queen and Eyes on Me were originally one piece, but I cut them into 2 parts due to it being over 7k. I had originally thought about moving the whole thing to day 7, but I felt that was unfair since I previewed it for today, and so did my friends who voted on it. I have mixed feelings on it and may regret posting it this way, but we die like men here, and at the very least, those of you who aren't into full-on smut are getting a slightly mild spicy scene.

So, without further yapping, enjoy this little setup, and hopefully wait in anticipation, for some of the longest porn with minimal plot I've ever written.

🗡Villain's Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Maeve was practically purring from joy behind you. The sounds of the party below her had her smirking eyes on dancing figures that she controlled. “All of them are puppets,” she kissed your shoulder, smoothing the words into your skin. “Dancing for my joy at my command.”

“As they should, my grace,” Connell said softly from next to the two of you. “They should celebrate the blessing your presence has brought us.”

Maeve loved praise, even if Connell wasn't her favorite toy to receive it from. She did enjoy his attention enough at times to keep him in his more human form, though, and this was one of those times.

Maeve had been receiving praise left and right, and you could feel her buzzing in her skin, power drunk on the way people thanked her for allowing them this. This was when Maeve was her most dangerous. For the Cadre, for you, for her people. When she had this reminder of her control, she was a loose canon. She varied from seeking sex to threats of war, to wondering if she could walk to other worlds, and spread her domination further.

Her parties were thrown every 6 months, and on those 6 month reminders of her conquest and reign, Maeve truly got off on the control she had, relishing in her power, in how some people worshiped her, in how even more feared her. It was as if the fleeting moments of happiness her people enjoyed during these parties renewed her, feeding her as they truly believed in their drunken joy that maybe things have changed only for a manicured fist to trample on those feelings until all that remained with withered hope and terror once again. It was what her legacy would be: fear and a Queen high on her ability to inflict it.

But tonight, the cycle fell on to her seeking and sex, and she had chosen you and Connell for her meal, something that both excited you and left your bones twisted with anxiety. “Isn't my little doll pretty tonight, Connell?” Maeve ran her finger down your cheek, down your neck. “And so well behaved!”

You met the eyes of the darker of the Moonbeam brothers. Fenrys was undeniably beautiful, but there was something about Connell you found special, and Maeve knew this.

Your master was not blind to the way you two looked at each other, how you looked at her. How you both watched her with one another. Maeve began to run her hand along the valley of your breasts, still waiting for the male to respond, “Cat have your tongue, my sweet wolf?”

Connell seemed to shake the cobwebs, mind no longer lingering on the things he had watched you and Maeve do behind closed doors, “A beautiful creature, my queen. She is a beautiful creature.”

Maeve hummed as she squeezed a rounded breast, “Do you think about touching her? Sometimes, I think about having her right here for all to watch. Bare and spread so everyone can see how wet she gets when I whisper to her.”

Connell swallowed hard at that, watching her hand as it settled on your inner thigh. You were flushing at the idea, but you would never say no. Maeve was generous at times, especially when she was throwing one of her rare parties. To say no to her when she was in such a giving mood would be shameful and potentially quite painful.

Maeve continued to explore your body with her hand, kissing the side of your throat softly before whispering for only you to hear, “Take your dress off for me.” There was no room for argument, nor a chance to, as she untied the top straps, the bodice falling before she made you stand, the rest pooling at the ground. “Crawl back to me,” she commanded.

You obeyed almost mindlessly, on your hands and knees before her. The party continued, only a few noticing you fully on display and kneeling before Maeve. “Does she deserve a reward,” Maeve asked Connell. “She's been so good lately.”

His eyes were roaming every inch, every piece of smooth skin glowing from the oils put on you before the party. Glowing with the odd joy you had when being treated this way. “Yes, my queen,” he finally answered.

Maeve motioned for him to lift you back into her lap, forcing you to sit with your legs across the sides of the throne and an arm hooked around her neck, “I think so too.” her voice held an edge that made you shiver. “And we're going to give it to her right here.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[yurislotusgarden]

Menaces in Love

ʚїɞ Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 825

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, probably ooc Chuuya, you and Chuuya are married in this one loves, pet names used: doll, reader's gender is not specified in any way (hopefully), you both are goddamn menaces but in this one, it's mostly reader

It’s 3:07 am, a normal hour for the both of you to be awake. Chuuya was trying to fall asleep as he had to go out early in the morning, but goddammit are you not letting him do that. You’ve been asking dumb questions for the past half an hour, and surprisingly been quiet for the past 5 minutes. The ginger’s savoring it, to say the least.

Such a sad fact is that his dumbass of a spouse can’t stay quiet.

“Chuu?” A murmur came from behind, Your arms around his waist, a nice position, only if he could sleep.

“What is it this time?” The tone used by Chuuya is with no questions, showing being done.

“...I’m just thinking… what if aliens think that we are the aliens?” The [h/c]ette said with a for some reason serious tone, which caused questions in the gingers head, looking at the question asked.

Chuuya turned around, confused to hell and back “The fuck you talking about?”

Let’s just say there was a debate on that for over an hour and Chuuya indeed didn’t get his beauty sleep.

/////////////////////

It isn’t you.

The only thing on Chuuya’s mind were those simple 3 words.

Your dear husband has gotten sent on a longer mission, one that can take up to a week, and mind you, but our beloved short stack would want his routine cuddles right now. If there’s one thing he hates to miss, it’s those goddamn cuddles.

At the moment it was 4 am, and the short figure of his could be seen laying widely awake on the hotel bed, hugging a pillow, wishing and trying to imagine it was his beloved spouse.

“Goddammit, maybe they’re right, maybe I’m the clingy one”

///////////////////

5 am, that’s how late, or perhaps early, Chuuya came back to the apartment. He tried to be quiet, in case that you were asleep.

Wishful thinking.

The moment the ginger came relatively close to the bed, he was pulled down into a pair of arms.

“Missed you” A murmur from under him.

“I know, I missed you too” A quiet answer. A hand on your head, running though your hair.

The short figure chuckled, completely expecting something like this but still amused. A similar situation happens every time he’s on a mission longer than 3 days. 

“Have you slept lately?” Came the question from him, brown eyes looking at your face as much as he can in this position.

“Of course”

Chuuya knew it’s a lie, after all, you always had problems with sleeping if you were unsure of whether the ginger’s safe or not. The distance didn’t help for sure, but there’s no sense in pointing it out.

“I have free today if that helps, we can sleep in” Chuuya indeed does, Mori gave him a day off. For what reasons? The male doesn't know, and he thinks he’d rather stay in the dark on this one.

“Perfect, because there’s no way in hell we're getting out of this bed until 12”

//////////////////

“Alright alright alright but what about this?”

The ginger groans, he just wants to sleep. “Go to sleep”

“Do you think that we would still be together in an alternate universe?” A teasing whisper, where the ginger can practically hear your smile.

“Go to sleep” “What if Chuuya’s a girl there?” “Go to sleep” An excited gasp could be heard. “What if we have kids there by now-”

“you’re about to sleep on the couch-”

//////////////////

“I have a serious question” 

Chuuya looked over to the doorway from where he was sitting. “An actual serious question or is it serious in your eyes only?”

A  frown could be seen on your face. “An actual serious question Chuu Chuu” 

The ginger head only scowled at the nickname and stopped himself from making a comeback. He really doesnt know where you got the nickname from. “Then shoot”

“... Why me?” You answered in a quiet soft voice, making Chuuya confused. If there’s one thing he knows from all these years of knowing you, it’s that you don’t act like this unless you’re actually serious or truthful, just generally this kind of moments.

“Dumbass, it’s obvious” He couldn't stop himself from a small teasing while turning back around, just how dumb can his spouse get?

You groan. “Chuu! C’mon just answer my question!” Chuuya softly chuckles.

“Are you gonna answer or am I gonna stay in the dark?”

“...When I saw you, everyone else seemed to disappear”

////////////

“Listen Chuu. I can get your cereal-soup argument, but there’s absolutely nothing you can say or do in this universe  to convince me that a hot dog is a fucking sandwich”

“Wha- What do you mean?” The ginger was confused, why do you not get it? “Doll, it’s simple! Imagine the bread around as normal bread and the inside-”

“No!”

Both of you sometimes wonder why you’re married to each other of all people.

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

[underforeversgrace]

bent but not yet broken - 1

title: bent but not yet broken

words: 933

Finally, it's Ecto-Implosion time! I was partnered with the amazing @deathcomes4u and their absolutely AMAZING artwork!

Story Summary:

How short a time had Danny even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain.

Danny Phantom has been captured by the GIW. The students of Casper High are protesting. Sam and Tucker have been notably absent, working with the Fentons to get Danny back.

What happens when the GIW bring back the hero, muzzled and beaten, on display for all of Casper High to see?

Chapter 1 of 7: Smothered by the Dusk

AO3

Tumblr Chapter Two will be here.

~~~~~~

Danny had thought the pain would get more manageable the longer the Guys in White had him. That the more he suffered, the more numb he’d become.

He was wrong.

Every breath he drew made his chest burn - though he was still unsure if that was from the Y-incision (half healed and haphazardly stitched) or the excised lung. Who knew a person could live with only one lung?

He’s a ghost, he doesn’t need to breathe! one of the agents had said.

And if his heart weren’t beating, I’d be inclined to agree with you, another had said. We should be careful, he’s very human.

That had been the one - and only - time Danny’d had hope since his capture. It had still been his first hour in their custody, all they’d done to him by that point had been the muzzle and subsequent electrocutions. When they called him human, he thought they’d stop; he thought that maybe they were more human than he and his little band had believed.

And that was when he’d gotten to listen to a debate on whether or not they could remove at least one of his lungs safely - humans with severe illness or damage to a single lung could often live full lives, after all, they’d said.

For humans, it was a last resort. For him, it was a fun start to a science experiment. In eager and excited voices, while he was chained down to a cold table, a muzzle that burned his skin strapped to his face, they discussed all the things they wanted to do to him before taking his other lung and heart - it was the last thing they wanted to do.

They didn’t want to kill him too soon.

Danny, by now, wished they had cut his heart out the first day, and that (hopefully) it would’ve let him die.

Though it may not have killed him. Apparently, he was regrowing the stolen lung, based on the scientists’ ‘follow up exploratory surgeries.’

And, as fascinating as that had been, it had led to them curiously amputating his hand and sewing it back on.

He still wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified when his hand had successfully reattached to his wrist after only a few days. Relieved that, well, his hand wasn’t gone.

Horrified because of how much worse this capture could be if he was unable to be killed.

How short a time had he even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain. 

Danny had tried a few methods, at first, to keep track of the comings and goings of the agents, to see if that helped him keep time. It hadn’t - sometimes he’d see the same agents for multiple back to back experiments, sometimes he’d see them every two or three, sometimes he was left alone.

In the long list of things he was unsure of was if it was worse when the experiments were going or when they weren’t. He was always in pain, regardless, but when he was alone, all he had were his thoughts and the unimpeded view of the reflective glass above him, allowing him to catalog his injuries in excruciating detail.

At least when the scientists were there, he could get lost in the hum of their voices. It was fascinating information, really, it was. So long as he didn’t acknowledge it was him they were talking about. Plus, when they were present, he got shots of extra power suppressant, which made his mind all flowy and the pain hazy, if only for a little while.

Danny laid there, by himself for now, and stared up at the ceiling, at his own reflection. This had been the longest he’d ever been left alone since he got here.

His jumpsuit could regenerate on its own, but it never had been able to fully mend between the scientists’ visits. Now, however, it was in pristine condition, and had been for over a hundred of his slow heartbeats (his only somewhat consistent measure of time in this hellhole).

It was nice to not see the scars that covered nearly every inch of his body, even if they pulsed with pain that still left him acutely aware of them. He almost looked like himself again - if he ignored the glowing green cage over the lower half of his face, connected to a collar circling his throat, skin severely burned along the edges of it all. The edge of the muzzle dug into his skin and the gag between his teeth forced his jaw open. It had stolen his voice, stolen away his ability to scream and beg for mercy.

He could feel where his teeth had cracked and his jaw had fractured from all the times he’d still tried, though. The sounds of his cries stayed stuck in his throat through all of it, and the silent screams were pulled from him whether he wanted them to or not.

Pulling his gaze from the muzzle back to his suit, his mind wandered. If his suit had had so long to heal… why would they leave him alone this long? The last thing they had done was give him an injection directly into his heart that had made his entire body feel sore. Were they finally done with him?

…then why not just kill him? They weren’t just going to leave him here, strapped down like a biology experiment to rot forever, right?

…right?

[thedeerman]

RadioApple Week Day 5: Domestic

I honestly wasn't sure what to choose for this one, but I just love this scene too much. I think it fits.

An excerpt from DYWTK Ch37: Reach

Understanding, the king turned, pulling his wings in enough to not hit Alastor in the face with them, and said, “Don’t go judging me for how messy the feathers are though, you’ve already got me all self conscious now.”

The radio demon stepped closer, once again running his hand over one of the huge wings. Lucifer seemed to shiver a bit at the contact, making Alastor wonder just how sensitive they were. Perhaps that’s why they’re always hidden away, he thought.

Gently, Alastor began tugging loose feathers from the base of Lucifer’s wings and dropping them on the ground. The king tried to turn around, probably to ask what the demon was doing, but Alastor didn’t let him. “Stay still or this is going to take me all night,” he demanded.

“Are you… Preening me?” Lucifer asked with a laugh. “You don’t plan on keeping every feather though, right…?”

The demon only rolled his eyes. His shadow picked up a few of the feathers on the ground and smiled at them. They then disappeared into the shadow as if they were never there. That fucking thing does have pockets… Alastor thought to himself. 

“No, your majesty, I will not be collecting every last bit of you to add to some collection. However, I won’t be making any promises for Niffty.” The king shuddered a bit at that. What a strange being. The most powerful soul in Hell and yet it’s simple little Niffty that shakes him. 

The pile of giant feathers was getting larger, and there were still so many left to remove. Every time one fell out, it seemed like ten more were in its place. Eventually Alastor said, “Sit.” The king did as he was told without question, making the radio demon smile wide. The great Lucifer, sitting on command like a dog. Only for Alastor, hopefully. 

Once the angel was seated cross-legged in the grass, Alastor knelt down only a foot or so behind him. The massive wings were now draped over the king’s shoulder’s like a shawl, giving the demon much better access to the bunches of feathers underneath the top layer. He put on a little bit of music, and the two sat and listened in silence as the radio demon tidied up his fallen angel.

They sat like that for what had to have been at least an hour, Alastor gently removing old feathers and dropping them in his lap while listening to classical music. By the time the task seemed to be done, he was absolutely covered in the things. It was as if the radio demon had destroyed a bunch of giant, feather stuffed pillows and sat himself in the pile that resulted.

Admiring his work, Alastor broke the silence. “Darling, I believe you may have had enough loose feathers to bury someone with. Let’s not let these magnificent wings of yours be neglected any longer, hm?”

Lucifer looked over his shoulder with wide eyes, just now seeing the absolutely ridiculous amount of angel feathers covering Alastor like a blanket. After the moment of shock, he spun around to face the radio demon and laughed. Now kneeling in front of him, the king said, “Aww man, Al, you’re covered in… Me!” He was laughing even harder now, plucking bits of stray feather fluff from Alastor’s hair and clothes, not that it mattered much. He was literally sitting in a pile of them.

After his laughter had ceased, the king just stared at Alastor with a smile. “Seriously though, thank you. My wings haven’t felt this good in… Well, longer than you’ve existed.”

The radio demon responded, “Well now, we can’t allow that. My king should be properly groomed at all times. I suppose that means I’ll be forced to preen you more often, what a bother.” 

Of course, it wasn’t really any inconvenience. It was a rather enjoyable experience, actually. Sitting, listening to music, staring at the most brilliant blood red and pure white feathers, brushing his fingers through what must have been the softest texture in existence. And, best of all, Lucifer couldn’t leave even if he tried. He was forced to sit still in front of Alastor, listening to music and feeling the radio demon’s clawed fingers caress his wings. The entire scene had been absolutely ethereal.

Lucifer pulled the demon from his thoughts by leaning forward. Now only inches from Alastor’s face, he said, “Oh yes, what a bother. I was definitely getting the sense that you were annoyed at the whole process. Don’t worry, I suppose I won’t really need to ask for another fifty years or so…” He caught on to that one pretty damn quick.

Before Alastor could respond to the king’s sarcastic remarks, the angel closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was so reminiscent of the first time he’d done so, it was almost eerie. It was perfect. The way Lucifer was acting now, the radio demon was quite sure his miserable few days were at an end. Vees be damned, Alastor absolutely was not going to share the attention of his little king.

When Lucifer pulled away from him, he had another sly smile and said, “You wanna go play some music?” Whoever said that Hell was nothing but eternal suffering clearly had never met the man in charge. He might cause a little suffering here and there, but overall, Alastor's darling king was simply a delight. Such an odd being. So powerful, yet so weak. So vicious, yet so kind. The King of Hell, the most brilliant of the archangels. And he belongs to me.  

Alastor smiled wide and brushed a few strands of hair from Lucifer’s face. “Absolutely, dear. I’d love nothing more.” 

[valentine-writes]

Could you write something about hanahaki disease with Johnathon ohnn? (Could end in angst or fluff either is good :3) no rush ofc, i love your work!!!

choking on flowers.

「 tws + notes: open ended ending, implications/mentions of death (but no Actual Death), unedited, OOC, interpretation of hanahaki may be slightly diff (i haven't heard of this trope thing in a hot min ngl so im not the Greatest With This), pre-collider even though his holes generating flowers is a silly thought which i giggled abt while writing this, present/past tenses are fucked up cuz i changed formatting halfway, angst?? 」

「 gn!reader, (unrequited) romantic relationship </3 」

↳ ft. johnathan/johnathon ohnn

author's note: THANK U SMMM!! (∩^o^)⊃━☆ lowkey 4got thiz thing existed lolz,, and while hanahaki aus are no longer My Thing, i wud b lying if i told u i didn't eat hanahaki ficz up in middle school ＞︿＜!! sooo,, here we go!!! hopefully this is ok,, many apologies for how short it iz aauwgwhwh

this is the third time you've called him today, trying to reach out. the first two times, he had thought he was strong enough to ignore you.

he was wrong. the minute his phone rang out that third time, he practically scrambled over to it just to answer. pathetic.

"you haven't been at work for what,,, almost two weeks now?"

the concern in your voice makes johnathan want to keel over dead instantly– not like he's far from it anyways. he pulls his phone away as he lets out a weak cough. you barely hear it from your end of the call.

"...sick." is all he manages to rasp out, his sore throat preventing him from speaking further. even if he could manage to talk more, he wouldn't know what else to say. how would he tell you? the call ends prematurely. you know you're not going to get more out of him, and he knows that it's better to keep you in the dark about his situation.

to tell you about how his unrequited feelings have manifested into something much more than both of you can handle was completely and absolutely out of the question. how was he supposed to explain he had been coughing up your favourite flowers? johnathan would rather let it kill him.

not only was he humiliated by the sheer intensity of his yearning– he knew you'd end up feeling guilty about it. yet, a part of his heart ached, wishing that he was selfish enough to tell you. maybe seeing you cry over him would give him some semblance of love.

that was an awful thought. he promptly pushed it aside. he'd never want to make you cry.

he could only laugh at how frustrating his situation is. it was inescapable, his fate inevitable and ever nearing– and no one to tell.

he had never felt so alone.

at least i'll have flowers for my funeral, he thought in the deafening silence of his home, finding the energy to let out a weak chuckle over the thought.

–

a few days after the call, his phone buzzed, receiving a text from you:

i'm coming over'

straightforward, at least.

'what if you get sick?' he messages back, trying to generate excuses to keep you away.

you reply swiftly, before he can come up with anything else, unswayed by the idea of potentially catching his illness which, unbeknownst to you, wasn't really transferable anyways. 'we'll wear masks then. omw.'

lovely. you were stubborn as ever. at least you gave him a heads up.

he noticed you made no attempt to keep your distance from him as you dropped off his little care package.

all neatly put into a little basket was some fresh fruit you had insisted he needed, as you rambled over the importance of vitamin c and immune health, a sweet little card filled with "get better soon"s filled by his coworkers at alchemax most of which he knew probably didn't really care all that much, a few packages of cough drops you had been a sweetheart to actually choose ones which had bearable flavours, a blanket, a few snacks, and... flowers.

if you had known exactly what illness, he doubted this choice would have been made. he stared at them silently, finding some sort of humor in the mortifying irony.

-

you said an awkward goodbye at his door, about to turn around and head off– before hesitating for a second.

"johnathan?" the way you looked at him, eyes filled with tenderness and worry– maybe it wasn't so bad after all, for you to be the death of him.

"...yeah?"

you didn't say anything further, instead, choosing to communicate through impulsively squeezing him into a tight hug.

you pull away just as quick as it had happened, yet the warmth of your embrace lingered a little longer, even as you headed out the door. something about you caring so much made it hurt more.

johnathan wondered why you even cared, why you were so persistent about looking out for him– knowing that he'd end up watching you slip away from him again, leaving an ache in his heart nothing could remedy.

he couldn't blame you. not sweet, kind, thoughtful you. he was the idiot, the careless fool who yearned for something he couldn't have.

maybe in another life, he thought to himself.

[happinessisntfun]

taking a moment to lay myself bare once again because what is tumblr for if not to post things incredibly personal and soul bearing when you should be in bed.

I am towards the end of my scheduled two weeks of leave. I have made considerable progress, but I started at rock bottom. I was not initially honest with myself about how far into burnout I was but surprise! I burned out three months ago and didn't realize.

I tore my acl in January and had surgery for that in February. I took most of the month of March off to recover, but I did not ease back into work, I jumped back in headfirst and foolishly.

I have had pt at least once a week since March, which is physically and emotionally demanding. Friday is my last session, but tbh, I probably should keep going. I just can't any more.

I work an incredibly demanding and high stress job. I transitioned fully to working from home in July after having multiple panic attacks on my way to and from work.

My migraines have picked up to the point where I have had eight migraine free days in the past 10 weeks.

I have been dealing with extreme chronic abdominal pain that I have not figured out the cause of since April.

wow some of these things are probably connected to that pesky burnout huh

I had a colonoscopy at the end of August and did not take a single moment to breath afterwards, even though anesthesia basically destroys me.

I have not cooked since May or June. I haven't been able to do much crafting for longer.

With all that in mind, I am going to take more time off. I need to finish dealing with the leave paperwork because my bank account is really feeling the missed paycheck now. I'm fine, financially. I have a high paying job and all my bills are paid until the end of the month and once I get this paperwork together, I'll get the majority of my pay for each week I'm off. (thank you, Jared Polis)

I has survived 100% of my worst days so far and I will continue surviving through this. Just needed to lay myself bare for a bit to try and cope with the realities of being disabled and chronically ill and temporarily injured.

The hazards of extending this leave further is that I need to have some very challenging discussions with loved ones so that understandings are reached.

I also need to figure out how to talk to my employer about this situation and make sure they understand that I will be coming back as soon as I can. (Thank fuck I've alluded to health issues before this crisis point and thank fuck for my wonderful amazing gp)

and that's the end of my deeply personal post. This is largely to process all of the shit I'm dealing with and hopefully set some things down. I'm probably going to send the link to this post to a few folks so I don't have to explain myself multiple times. I wonder if my parents know what tumblr is and if I can just send them this and tell them to shove their questions up their asses.

[ilyamatic]

Nothing Ever Lasts Forever

Song: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears

part 1

I am back after months of indecision, exhaustion, and just general ennui. Things still aren't great but at least I am able to create something .

This tale begins as many did in Ilya’s life: on a ship. Or at least looking at one. He shifted from foot to foot as the line to board inched and stalled.

He supposed there had to be some poetry in it. Something about new beginnings out on the open water, going where the wind blows. Watching the moon crest over the horizon. The smell of salt that clung. Adventure! Hopefully one with less shipwrecks.

Hopefully.

A warm hand came to rest on his forearm.

“You know we can stay a little longer. There will be another ship next week.”

Ilya looked over to see his younger sister Pasha, worry lining her crystal blue eyes. It’s an expression she had worn like an old blanket for the past six months, an expression that did not suit her. An expression she wore for him exclusively it seemed. Ilya put on his best smile.

“Now now,” he said. “I cannot impose on our grandmas any longer. I am sure they have had enough of me these past few weeks. Besides, if I have another bowl of borscht I may turn into a beet.”

It was a weak excuse at best, even he could hear that. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could stay another week, another month, another year and the village bubbes would happily keep him. They would keep feeding him matzah until he became more matzah than man, bake him babka, sneak him some lobster if they were feeling particularly indulgent.

“We need to get some meat on those bones!” they would say as they have always said. However, as of late it was tinged with unease and concerned glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. A fear that if they take their eyes off of him, they will find him like Pasha did in his clinic; frail and weak on the floor, dying from the same illness he worked so hard to save his patients from.

It was best if he moved on.

“If you’re sure,” Pasha said. By the furrow of her brow Ilya could tell exactly how she felt about him leaving. Luckily she respected him enough to not push. Though it wasn’t as if she wasn’t itching to leave herself. Pasha’s hunger to see the world was insatiable. He could see it in the way she looked at the ship when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. According to the bubbes, Ilya and Pasha looked the most alike when faced with adventure. He couldn’t help but agree.

“I am positive. In any case, if we stick around another week we will miss the Sun Festival in Firent.”

He couldn't hide how his smile widened at his sister’s surprised squeak.

“The Sun Festival!” Pasha said. “I have been wanting to go for years! Are you sure we’ll make it?”

Ilya nodded. “If my almanac is correct, and it hasn’t steered me wrong yet, the solstice is in about two weeks. If the weather holds we should be there with more than enough time to spare.”

Pascha clapped her hands excitedly. Her eyes shone brighter than they had in months. “I have heard so much about their library! And their markets! Oh I heard the view of Nimbus Fork is just stunning. I am so thrilled I–”

Suddenly, there was a beat of hesitation.

“–I,um…”

He looked at his younger sister with concern, the sudden shift in mood unlike her. Pasha toyed with the end of her shawl.

“Are you sure you are up to it?” She asked quietly.

“Of course I’m sure!” Ilya replied. “My clinic handled half a year without me, it could handle a few more weeks.”

“No I don’t mean that. I mean–”

Her sigh seemed to come from somewhere deep.

“I mean are you sure it wouldn’t wear you out too much? I know you are so much better, but things have changed Ilyusha.”

The worry lining her eyes returned tenfold and he could feel his smile become brittle.

“I am sure Pasha,” Ilya said through almost gritted teeth.

“Listen, you don’t need to push yourself for my sake. We can always go another year–”

“I said I am sure.”

He faced forward and did his best not to clench his jaw too tightly. It’s because she cares, he reminded himself. She cares. He could feel it in his soul, in the way her eyes searched the side of his face. She cares.

(was this it then? A loop of would he? should he? could he? when did his little pashenka, who once toddled on beaches and made friends with every seal she met, become his keeper? when did he lose his function? was it when he coughed up blood into his handkerchief ? or was it when he felt a tickle in his throat that first week? or maybe it was the day he stepped foot in vesuvia. his life became patient, patient, funeral, patient, patient, minyan, patient, patient, no ma’am i’m sorry you cannot see him it is contagious!, patient patient funeral minyan funeral minyan. another loop. could he should he would he.)

The line inched forward.

[mrvelocipede]

Do You Have Stairs in Your House?

I may have mentioned, earlier, that we're in the process of building a house. I'm never sure how much I should post about it, because I don't want to entirely doxx myself, but it continues to be interesting and distracting and sometimes stressful.

(in which there are several pictures of ladders, and stairs)

For some time, we have not had stairs. Things have to be built in the proper order, and apparently quite a lot of stuff had to happen before the stairs. So there have been ladders. I've never managed to get a photograph that really conveys what the ladders are like, but I keep trying.

The ladders are propped up on sheets of oriented strand board, which seem alarmingly wobbly, and tend to bounce up and down a bit as you climb. And of course, they're perched over an awful lot of empty vertical air.

I've gotten fond of them, actually. Most days there's at least a brief visit to see how things are progressing, and I get to climb up a couple of floors' worth of ladders so as to admire the view from the higher windows. As of last week, though, they've started the installation of the stairs, and it's a fascinating bunch of engineering.

It's now possible to walk quite calmly from the first floor to the second floor, on a nice solid sturdy set of proper steps. Somehow this is very disconcerting. On the one hand, it's obviously easier than a ladder, but on the other hand, there are no railings yet, and there's still all that empty air around you.

Today, they started on the section that goes from the second floor to the attic, so they got to carry the stairs up the other stairs.

I'm not sure how long the rest of the assembly is likely to take. Hopefully not too much longer. I miss visiting the attic.

[hypersomniagame]

HYPERSOMNIA MAY DEV LOG : “COOKIN' IN THE KITCHEN”

Hi! For all of you who follow HYPERSOMNIA, you should already know what the gist is here yada yada yada,

if you don't know what this is or are confused on what hypersomnia is read the other dev logs i've said this like every time lol

Hey! Hi! Hello! Welcome to the dev log!

I'd like to apologize about last month, I was going through a big block on development and I got practically nothing done. I've also been focusing on real life stuff which has been strange!

OK! So, first things first. Some of you might've seen on our Twitter, the new trailer is DONE! It's been "finished" for a few weeks now but I went back and made some small edits and now I can fully say it's complete!

I'm insanely happy with how this one came out. I went all out on it and I think you guys will agree when it releases that it just completely blows all our other trailers right out of the water. From music, to editing, to visuals, presentation, everything.

I'm more than excited to show you guys this trailer, and hopefully you all will be able to see it soon! It'll be premiering in this years MOTHER DIRECT (as always lol), so be ready for that! Tons of great fangames and indies are gonna be shown off, along with other MOTHER projects, so if you're interested I highly suggest you keep up with M4E.

Now, onto a more direct game update!

As of right now, the demo is about 50% playable!

This month has been almost exclusively eventing and scripting for the game. That 50% doesn't mean the demo is halfway finished, but it means that we're halfway there to getting the demo playable from start to finish. There's still a lot I gotta do, but eventing is the biggest hurdle for me currently, so it should only be up from here.

Also,

Pigeonville got a bit of a makeover recently! I wanted to make the town look a bit more lively and urban, so I took the time to redo and add a few different buildings. I'm really happy with how it changed the look of the town, and I hope to use this as a base for other areas going forward.

This didn't come without some challenge though. Both the game's prologue and first chapter take place in Pigeonville, and because so many different events are used between the 2 sections, I've had PV split between 2 maps, one for the prologue and the other for chapter 1.

I initially did these edits on the CH1 version of the map, but while porting them to the PL version, I managed to completely screw up almost all the events in the prologue. So while it didn't have to be completely rescripted, I did have to do some playtesting for like a week just to make sure I caught everything that broke.

-

Speaking of bugs, there's been a bit of bug-squashing going on this month. My friend Muffins (Who helps write for the game) and I both sat down and tried to just play through what we have so far, and it was an experience to say the least. The game was NOT this broken in March, so playing through it just showed me so much stuff that broke, and some of it was absolutely hilarious.

I didn't record any of it though! Which is a shame! I'd totally post a montage or something of just the absolute funniest glitches we encountered but I guess it's for another time.

And that's all for this month! Sorry it's not much, but I figured it'd be better to give some sort of update then just oddly go silent. Things will most likely pick up during the mid-summer months, I'll have more stuff to talk about, these logs will be longer like they were back in January and we'll all be home on time for Jay Leno.

It's a bit hard to talk about scripting stuff out for the game since I only can talk about so much before I start spoiling stuff. Will June be better? Will there even be a log in June? Will I survive the summer heat? Only time can tell. And the weather man.

If this is your first log you're reading, or even your first time seeing ANYTHING relating to HYPERSOMNIA, I got a whole bunch of links for you to check out if you wanna know more about me and my stupid little game.

TWITTER

YOUTUBE

STEAM

UNIQUE INDIE RPG'S [SHOW US YOUR GAME!]

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[clatterbane]

Back home from that second damned full general anesthesia gastroscopy session, and I survived. Just about. Feeling pretty rough about now, and very little of it is from the procedure itself. Still pretty full of Migraine Potion, of course, to make everything more pleasant.

But! This happened. Sure, the whole extra fuss of getting anesthesiology involved makes everything so much safer and better. Particularly with the T1 diabetes!

The main Dunning-Kruger part that I was referring to with the anesthesiologist I got hold of today was that she seemed to be operating under the strange idea that diabetes means that you need a constant supply of glucose, or you will go hypoglycemic. (As in, the exact fucking opposite of how anything works.) And that the long-acting insulin that I was not due to take would also somehow help keep my blood sugar from going dangerously low right then and there? Idek. Maybe she thinks that is a depot shot of extended release sugar? 🥴 (Again, it must be Opposite Day in the Anesthesiologyverse.)

There may have been some language/communication issues there. But yeah that really did not seem to be the main problem. This also was not an issue at all last time. It was definitely that anesthesiologist giving crazy instructions.

Hospitals are not a healthy place for T1 diabetics to end up anyway. There is so much piss-poor knowledge paired with God complexes going around. But, that's one of the strangest understandings that I have ever even heard of.

At least that was only half of my usual Lantus dose they insisted on giving me. So, when saying that it was not due for hours yet--and I that I did not want or need it--did not work? I went ahead and took the shit rather than go completely ballistic at them, because at least that was unlikely to do any actual harm. Guess I'll take the other half when the next dose is actually due, and hope the dosing disruption doesn't fuck me up too bad over the next few days.

(Though at least that was not my entire daily Lantus dose they were screwing with. I regularly take it twice a day, to help keep things steadier. So, a few units hours early should hopefully not make much difference.)

But yeah, I'm glad that nurse in the pre-op and after recovery post-op section did have more of a clue, saw what was shooting my blood sugar up immediately, and stopped the IV before it just kept climbing. Several more units of insulin later, and I am just feeling like slightly reheated shit after that little roller coaster ride. It could have been much worse, but that shit kind of scared me anyway.

Also glad it really isn't a long procedure, other than all the waiting and extra rigmarole compared to just going straight into an endoscopy room like I was doing before they decided to do this instead. They thankfully didn't have that long to pump my insulin-deficient ass full of liquid sugar.

Though, I did end up stuck for longer in the actual recovery room, getting glucosed up with no brakes, because the coughing from the intubation tearing up my throat triggered enough of an asthma attack this time when I did NOT have access to the inhaler I preemptively brought along after last time, that they ended up giving me this mask nebulizer treatment in there.

So much safer and better! 😒

But, I am finally home and now making some coffee.

And I am so glad that ordeal is over with for another month now. With some talk of shifting it to every 6 weeks after that. I really hope I don't get that same anesthesiologist again.

At any rate, I intend to be loud if I have to about NO FREAKING GLUCOSE. They were purposely not using it before.

[multiplicity-positivity]

hey uhhh i hope its fine to ask advice.

i (??? im really blurry rn sorry) got two new headmates relatively recently and im trying to figure out how i can let them front without putting us in danger.

if i dont let them front they will be even more mad at me, which just makes it worse.

i just really dont know what to do because we're busy with (online) school for 5 days a week and on the weekends i want to relax, but i guess i cant take all that time for myself because they need time to relax too. but im still really stressed because if they meet my parents and act wrong it might not go well like last time.

it seems really hard to put the time out of my schedule despite it not being that busy due to stuff like chronic pain and needing a lot of time to rest compared to normal. but i dont want them to hate me.

sorry if this is impossible to answer. i get it if you delete it /gen

Hey, this is a fine and valid question to ask. We’ll do our best to answer:

For hosts, allowing their other headmates time to front and interact with the world (if those headmates want it) is essential to ensuring that the whole system can live happy, healthy lives. We know this can be very difficult to come to terms with, especially if you’re not used to having to share your time like this. I (Parker) still get weary from time to time sharing my life with my alters. It used to frustrate me more than it does these days, though. I understand that my alters want to experience life and interact with the world, and in order for me to give that to them, I had to learn how to step back and just let things happen without trying to control every aspect of their lives.

We understand that you might have to mask at home for your own safety. If you are able to contact and communicate with your headmates, it would probably be good to try and explain this to them. Y’all might be able to reach a compromise where other headmates can front if, while your parents are around, they’re able to effectively mask or pretend to be you. We know this situation isn’t ideal, but at least that could allow these headmates a chance to front every now and then. Many systems unfortunately do have to mask for their own safety - and if y'all reach a point in your lives where you no longer have to live with your parents, you can focus on learning to unmask.

At the same time, maybe you could set up some ground rules for dealing with your chronic pain and the amount of rest you need. Could you educate your headmates about the body’s pain and fatigue issues? This way, if other headmates understand how to manage your body’s pain and get enough rest, they may be able to front more often and even help you take care of your body.

To start, even just allowing your headmates to front for 5-10 minutes at a time can allow them to test out the waters of existence, hopefully without exhausting you. The more informed they are about your situation, and the more willing y’all are to make compromises and cooperate with each other, the more you may find it’s possible for you all to live in harmony together. Perhaps with communication, patience, and taking things slow, y'all may be able to start switching in a way that allows your headmates to front occasionally, without putting your system in danger.

Good luck with this! Trying to navigate system life by allowing other headmates to front while keeping the system hidden can certainly be difficult, but for many, this sort of thing is necessary in order to accommodate other members and allow the whole system to experience the world. We're wishing y'all the very best as you try to figure this out!

💫 Parker and 🍃 Corrie