#I enjoyed the interval acts that I saw

[eurovision-del]

5MINNUST & Puuluup just won Eesti Laul! I’m so hyped about this result, it was exactly what I wanted! Credit to Ollie, and I would really love to see him at Eurovision one day, but 5minnust were just on another level tonight. The perfect level of chaos and excitement with a super catchy song – I really hope that this connects with the general audience at Eurovision the way it seems to have with the fandom. They definitely could tweak the staging to give it a little more polish for the big stage, but I hope they keep the overall energy and honestly choreography from this performance. I’m so glad we’ll get to see them again in May!

[lolchicsa]

Skulls and Chaos

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, nsfw, description of gore

Part 1 of 2: smut in next part (link here)

No use of y/n

Loosely follows the events of the ‘Alone’ mission. Reader’s vacation was ruined by Shadow Company going on a genocidal rampage :( But fear not dear reader! Mr Ghost is here to make it better ;P

A/N: First time using Tumblr to post stories and using mobile to write this. Apologies for bad grammar, it’s been a while, and I have no idea what to tag for this story. Story inspiration comes from a post by @fanficsforfun so here’s my twist on it.

Chaos.

The streets of Las Almas could be described using only one word. Chaos…

Usually, at this time of night, children would be asleep, lovers back in their homes and just a set few would be enjoying the dreamy sight of stars littering the night sky. It is truly a beautiful place to visit, if you can ignore the cartel’s presence that is. The cartel is known for being violent… but this… this was different. This wasn’t the cartel.

The screams and cries of children and parents echoed through the city. Gunfire sounded off at irregular intervals, surrounding me in fear. I had abandoned my hotel room when the screams first started, trying to find my way out in this maze of a city. The first dead body I had come across was that of a young boy. A trail of blood, starting from a small hole in his head, ended on the ground in a pool of crimson liquid. At first, I was fear stricken and unable to look away.

My reality felt surreal, a distant nightmare I could escape when my mind decided to end the torture. But no, I wasn’t dreaming, I was wide awake and running for my life. I officially lost count of how many dead bodies I unfortunately came across after seeing an alleyway filled with them. I wanted to cry, to curl up in a ball and forget the world exist. But I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

Exhaustion took over a few minutes ago, leaving me walking through the streets of death alone and on edge. The sound of death still polluted the air, I was trying my best to avoid the gunfire and escape. Easier said then done, trust me. It felt like the chaos was following me, taunting me with thoughts of escape.

And then I heard voices. Must be a sick joke my mind was playing on me. Logically, I knew there was very little chance of finding a living soul, but hope has shimmering at the back of my mind. Maybe these people can help me, maybe they know how to escape. I travelled closer to the orchestra of voices until I noticed something… odd.

They where speaking calmly to one another, acting like this was a pleasant walk instead of hell on earth. It made me uneasy, but something caught my attention. Their accents. Not to different then my own, but definitely a rarity around here. Americans.

I round a corner and there I saw them. All black tactical gear, guns, knives, they looked ready for war. My heart leaped into my throat, a surge of newfound adrenaline propulsed me closer to them. These soldiers most be here to bring an end to this chaos.

“Man, that Ghost guy gives me the creeps” One said, the pack turning their attention to him. They where huddled close together, seemingly enjoying a 10 minute break of freedom before continuing on. A few snickers broke the silence following the soldiers comment.

“It’s only one guy, c’mon he can’t do much against all of us” replied another.

“Don’t forget about the other one” a third chimed in. Their conversation helped keep their attention off of the street corner I was currently stalking. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in eavesdropping on these guys. The more you know, the better right?

“You mean the one that goes by Soap? Ha! What kind of name is that anyways? How can you be scared of a guy like that!”

“An angry Scotsman is not to be trifled with, trust me”

“Man if you get killed by someone named after a cleaning product, no matter what he is, you’ll be a laughing stock in whatever hell we end up in”

“Oh so getting shanked by Ghost is better?”

As far as conversations goes, this might be the worst one I have had the privilege of eavesdropping on. Their arguing… over names? I don’t get it.

“Hey you! We know your there! Come out with your hands in the air and slowly walk towards the middle of the street” yelled on of the soldiers. The command was directed towards my general area and my stomach dropped. Anxiety started prickling through my veins, thoughts racing through my head a mile a second.

Just do as they say, my conscious brain screamed. It’s the only way to survive this nightmare. With that, I made my way towards the middle of the street with my hands up, just like I was told.

“Mind explaining to me what you are doing here ma’am?” asked one of the soldiers. From the looks of things, he seems to be the leader of this rag tag group of men. He’s got the scariest voice of them all, I would say. Sounds like the type of guy you can easily trust, but would stab you in the back if he had too. He didn’t have a gun pointed at me, not yet anyways, but he did have a death grip on his rifle.

“Please, I mean no harm. I was here on vacation and I just want to go back home” I begged.

“You’re American? Odd to see you here. You’ve got ID to prove your story miss?” His grip on his rifle loosened and his posture reflected that of a calm man. I started searching through my small purse, searching for the requested object.

The moments leading often where a blur. Adrenaline had left my system, leaving me tired and emotional. I remember giving my ID to the man, which I now know goes by Graves. Something in him changed, going from the on edge soldier to overprotective best friend. One of his men was ordered to strip off his armor plate and give it to me. A jacket was placed over my shoulder, a signet stitched on the jacket sleeves. I was told it was their company’s logo… Shadow company.

Graves had me follow a couple of his men out of the city to safer location. They where ordered to protect me with their lives. I felt safe, like really safe. Here I was, following three armed men, tasked with protecting me, out of this city of nightmares and closer to my warm bed back home. Currently, our small group was engaged in conversation. The topic? Well…

“These guys don’t play around. All this death? They caused it. We don’t know why, but we’re tasked with hunting them down” specified one of my bodyguards.

“Specifically that Ghost guy. He has this weird mask thing he wears all the time. It’s like a skull and it covers most of his face. Scary fucker” another added.

I hear admiration when they describe this guy, that and fear. My gut tells me there is more they are keeping from me. Part of me couldn’t give two shits, but another was curious.

Fwoosh

My brain froze, my body stopped moving. The world shifted, the quiet chatter turned into loud commands I couldn’t make out. I saw red. Blood red. This time not painted on walls or flowing down the cheeks of children. This time, I saw it spray out of the neck of one of my new friends. A blade had materialized out of thin air, implanting itself into the soldiers neck.

His body made a sickening sound as it hit the ground. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, but fear stricken as I was, I could only watch. Watch as the other two had knives plunged into their throats like the first. Watch as lifeless bodies hit the floor.

My body moves, but not because I ordered it to do so. The colours shift into each other, sky and ground blurring together. It only last a couple seconds, but has an everlasting effect on me. Slowly, my senses come back to me and I realize something is very very wrong.

It’s him.

It’s the man with the skull face mask.

It’s Ghost.

He’s the first thing I see when my vision finally focuses. I’m to unfocused to realize what’s going on, but I can feel a wall behind me. His eyes are staring into mine, hands holding me tightly to the wall behind me. I can feel the heat radiating of his body and I can’t help but feel attracted to it.

That’s when I realize he’s shouting at me, but I’m having a hard time making out what he’s saying. I feel trapped, unable to move, forced to keep eye contact with this dangerous killer. His eyes are mesmerizing. I can’t look away, I can’t focus on anything other then his eyes.

“Tell me where Graves is and I promise to give you a quick death”

His words still sounded unclear, but the anger rolling off of them helped snap me out of my daze. This is the killer the soldiers were talking about, the dead soldiers. He killed them… just like he killed everyone else. Fear gripped my soul, my fight or flight instincts finally kicking in. I started trashing about, trying to loosen his hold on me. The wall of pure muscle in front of me didn’t seem fazed by my attempts to escape.

“Answer me now, shadow bitch. I’m losing my patience!”

His hand bolted towards my throat and gripped it with a force I have never felt before. It was getting hard to breath, my already tired body didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t playing around, he’s making that very clear. I have a feeling he’s the type to not make empty threats, especially when it comes to death threats.

Wait, did he call me “shadow bitch”? Hold on.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! I’m not part of that group! I just stumbled upon them and they were gonna bring me home! I swear! They were protecting me!”

His grip on my throat relaxed and for a second I thought I was in the clear. That’s until he moved impossibly closer to me. My head rested on the wall behind me, tilted up so I could keep eye contact with the behemoth in front of me. Our chests was flush to each others. His breath slowly fanned over my face, his warmth bringing some sense of safety.

We stood in silence, staring at each other for awhile. I had to remind myself of the atrocities this man committed… the children he killed. But something felt off.

“Why… why do want to know where Graves is? Are you going to kill him? Like you killed these civilians?” My tone was shaky, filled with whatever authority I had left. I hope this doesn’t get me killed.

Instead, the man stepped back from me, leaving an empty void where his warmth was moments ago. He acted like I had just stabbed him through the heart… if he even has one that is.

“What? You think I am responsible for this genocide? No, the Shadow’s are responsible for that”

This new information served to confuse me even more then I already was. Did Graves lie to me? Or is Ghost lying to me? Who to trust? Graves did seem like the lying type, and if Ghost really was behind all this, why was he being so nice? Well, as nice as someone could be in a situation like this, I should say.

“We have to move. Forget about Graves, survival is a priority. If the Shadows find you with me, they will kill you” His tone suggested he wasn’t lying about that last part. My gut told me to trust him, follow him. So I did and I don’t regret a thing.

A/n: omg I’m finally out of writing hibernation and boy does it feel good. I plan on making shorter stories that focuses more on smut eventually because Ghost melts my brain and I need to share. Pardon any grammatical errors and the fact that I split this in two. Any criticism is welcome, like straight up tell me if this is shit cause I’m trying to get better. Might do story requests if people are interested enough. Anyways, I hope every single one of y’all has a great day!

[white-cat-of-doom]

Ian McKellen has come to the defense of CATS (2019), and the musical in general, with a concise assessment:

“If you think the film got bad reviews, you should have seen the reviews for the stage show!”

For the majority of the article (or everything pertaining to CATS):

Sir Ian McKellen has reflected on the critical mauling of Cats in a new interview with Attitude.

The acting legend, who plays a theatre reviewer in his upcoming movie The Critic, starred in Cats alongside the likes of Dame Judi Dench and Taylor Swift.

The star played the role of Gus: The Theatre cat in the Tom Hooper-directed flop, which received universally negative reviews.

“I have to temper what I say about Cats,” McKellen told us of the furore four years later.

“When I saw it in the theatre, directed by a good friend of mine, in its previews. I was sat next to the most powerful man in American theatre, who was wondering whether to bring the show to Broadway. Of course, it broke every record.

“At the interval, he said: ‘I don’t think Broadway would accept amateur British attitudes to singing and dancing.’ Almost every critic agreed. If you think the film got bad reviews, you should have seen the reviews for the stage show! His eight-year-old niece on the other side of him said [imitates a New York accent]: ‘I loved it!'”

He went on: “When critics are clearly at odds with the public… A show you know the public are enjoying, or would enjoy, is killed by some negative [reaction]… In the case of Cats, the disapproval seems to be universal.”

[ciaossu-imagines]

Could you write something, you’re allowed to choose the format, of Namba going through a zombie apocalypse?

C

Of course I can! Thank you for sending this in, since I mentioned having a lot of ideas for this that I never thought I'd get the chance to rant about and now I can! I hope you'll all enjoy the ranting!

So, the zombie apocalypse comes to Nanba Prison. There's a couple ways I could see it happening. One way it could go is that a visitor, or even one of the prison staff or guards, could unknowingly have gotten infected on the mainland. Maybe they had a random and bizarre experience with someone already zombified and they blamed the encounter on someone just being high on bath salts. Maybe the food they ate carried the virus needed to create zombies. Whatever way it happened, they unwittingly got exposed to whatever makes people turn into zombies and then, when they did get onto the island, the virus really took hold and they went full zombie and started attacking. While that initial zombie was probably put down and put down relatively quickly, they managed to do some damage and spread the virus to at least a couple more people, who then spread it to a couple more before they could be killed and so on and so forth until it's getting more and more difficult to keep up with putting them out of their misery.

Another way it could happen? It could definitely be an experiment the Otogi's were working on together that went terribly, terribly wrong. I think I prefer the first one a little better, just because in this kind of scenario, the Otogi's would either become some of the first to go zombie or just straight up get killed and that really puts Nanba in a real tight spot as to whether anyone survives because they really need their healers and researchers.

Now, in a way, Nanba is the perfect place for the zombie apocalypse to really break out. It's not only inescapable but it's pretty impenetrable, not only with the high walls and security feature but by the simple fact that it is an island. There's only one way on, one way off really. I think that's something that was banked upon during the first initial outbreak, when things were getting bad but still seemed to be under control. Momo ordered all forms of transportation to the island to cease temporarily but overall, the guards figured their strength and diligence alone could prevent it from spreading.

When things started to spin and the zombies started getting more plentiful in number, too much to easily control and take down, Nanba goes into full lockdown mode. Each building is quarantined, much like how we saw Building 5 during the Enki arc. Travel between different buildings is forbidden and the guards are given the orders. Squash this zombie uprising, protect your prisoners, and prevent any prisoners from trying to escape.

In headquarters, Momoko is in charge, overseeing everything, and really tries to keep a handle on the situation. She plans and oversees this as the commanding chief of an army would and believe me, she puts her army to good use.

Of course, she's only able to do that because Mitsuru is also locked safely in headquarters with her. If it wasn't for Mitsuru's communications and technological skills keeping all the different buildings connected and updates kept coming at hourly intervals, Nanba would likely have fallen completely.

Of course, the Otogi's and KAGU-8 are also within headquarters, commanding their teams in a joint effort operation to figure out what the hell is causing all this, to find a cure for it, and to figure the best way to get that cure out to everyone who might need it.

KAGU-8 actually comes in incredibly useful as well because, as a robot, she is immune to becoming a zombie. She goes out of the building whenever it's deemed safe (as in, she won't let anything in and they know she can't transmit the virus back to them as it's not anything skin to skin contact), acting in a variety of manners. Not only can she give them a better view of the actual situation outside of their building, but she can act as a go-between and aid various buildings in need of support.

Because animals also seem to be completely immune to being turned zombie, Kyakuya, Hiiragi, Tsubaki, Sazanka, and Kikiyou also help KAGU-8 in those kind of roles and they're also a valuable source of intel for Building 4.

And Building 4? It makes itself useful. Not only is Yozakura exceptionally strong and more than capable of taking down a single zombie, but he is a very smart man and knows how to research and investigate. Musashi actually is allowed out of his cell, though he must still be closely supervised every minute, under the orders of the Warden, to help as that is something Musashi excels at as well. Building 4 really dedicates itself to helping Headquarters' research and investigation team as much as they possibly can. Even though Hitoshi isn't really the most skilled at research, they help by taking care of the others, rationing out food while still making sure everyone is fed, and really taking over the supervising of the other guards and the overseeing of the prisoners.

Speaking of food, it becomes clear after the first week or so that travel must be established between the different buildings so that rations and provisions can be shared. Not only that, but after the first building or two fell due to zombies, it became apparent that staff needed to have a way for backup to reach them in case things did start to go bad inside a building.

While Momoko and Hajime will definitely need to have a meeting after this whole thing is over, it's really Building 13's time to shine when it comes to finding ways for the Buildings to safely travel between each other. While Jyugo and the others normally keep their travelling within Building 13, Jyugo has probably snuck around to other buildings without Hajime or the boys noticing, just because he could. And with the inmates of Building 13 really being given a little leniency, and the blueprints to Nanba, it's a walk in the park for them to figure out, test, and secure safe passage between the various buildings. Anyone going between the buildings must be accompanied by a Guard, and honestly Building 13's supervisors and guards have the best reputation and everyone wants them to accompany them. The pure amount of just stupid levels of strength and combat that both Yamato and Hajime have make them more than capable of taking on any zombies that come their way. Seitarou and Tsukumo, meanwhile, actually have really fast reflexes and a kind of stealth that makes them really talented at going safely in between the different buildings and at leading groups between buildings.

Building 3 finds their purpose during the apocalypse in several ways. Not only do Honey and Trois team up but they also team up with Ruka under the supervision of Kiji and start to produce various weapons and battle plans and tactics. Honey often collaborates with Building 4, Uno, and even the Warden herself on one occasion when it comes to tactics and plans. But they also do something else that proves useful as the apocalypse wears on. The communications channel gets turned over to Building 3 once a day, where Kiji or other staff from Building 3 just spread positivity, remind everyone of why they're fighting, assure them that things will return to normal, and remind everyone that they also need to take care of themselves. Shower as often as you can, make sure you get your beauty rest, don't forget good skin-care and little mindfulness breaks, just to keep yourself looking and feeling the best you can. After all, if you look and feel good, you can conquer anything, even a horde of zombies.

Building 5 tends to be the building most everyone counts on to actually go out and put those plans and tactics into action. They're really the front-line soldiers of this battle and not without very good reason. Not only are the guards of Building 5 exceptionally physically and mentally strong, but it's inmates are normally quite physically strong and talented fighters in their own rights. Even Qi gets drafted, becoming a sort of combat medic and he's the one to test the zombie antidote, each time the Research Team thinks they have perfected it, out in the field. Other inmates and guards from different buildings do back them up whenever possible, but they are really the ones in charge down on the ground.

[i-llo]

The Whole Beeing Soulmates Thing

Beetlejuice x OC fic

Chapter 3 and Chapter 5

More information about this fic here

Act 2, Chapter 3: Lost Dreams

Sophie was locking up the shop at night, the last customer had left long ago, and the calmness of the city wrapped her in a familiar peace. The decision to stay behind and finish closing up didn’t bother her. Tracy had a family event and needed to leave early. “If anything happens, just call me, okay? Thanks again for covering for me”, Tracy said as she left. “Enjoy your night, I’ve got everything under control! And send love to your mom” Sophie replied, already moving away, organizing the products on the shelf, feeling comfortable in her space. It was a small, quiet town, almost everyone knew each other, and crime seemed like a distant concept. But that sense of security was deceiving, at least for her. Hours later, as Sophie exited through the back door, she found herself in a narrow, dark alley the dim light from the nearby streetlamp barely lit her path. This area was just a shortcut, which explained the lack of activity around, since this was part of her routine, Sophie paid little attention to the details. She didn’t expect this night to be any different, though a strange chill ran down her spine. She quickly convinced herself it was just the night breeze.

Suddenly, Sophie felt a presence behind her, her senses on high alert. “What was that?” she muttered, the tension in the air growing, as if something unseen was closing in. Turning quickly, she saw a much taller, more muscular woman—someone with a physique that only years of training could build—charging at her. The woman carried a vivid red rope, and panic seized Sophie as she tried to think in a escape route. She was slammed against the wall, the impact rattling her bones, Sophie tried to scream, desperate to understand where such strength was coming from. Soon, the rope tightened around her neck, cutting off her breath, the pain was so intense it burned her throat and made her head spin wildly. Her hands grasped at the air, trying to fend off na attack that felt invisible, as her feet stumbled, fighting to keep balance.

It was the first time something physical had attacked her like this, but deep down, she knew it was tied to the fragmented memories surfacing in her mind. It was as if something was trying to stop her from remembering, from piecing together a puzzle that had been incomplete for centuries. Sophie fought desperately, her hands moved fast to try removing the rope—she had to do anything to survive. With a sudden movement, she knocked over several trash cans, causing a loud crash that echoed through the deserted alley. Her screams escaped in intervals as she managed to loosen the choke during the struggle. The woman, realizing they were drawing too much attention, intensified the attack, growing frantic.

Luckily, the noise alerted a night watchman making his rounds nearby. He quickly approached, flashlight in hand, lighting up the scene. “Who’s there? I hope you’re not causing any trouble”, he shouted. The woman attacking Sophie hesitated, still holding her. “Damn it!” she muttered, standing still for a few seconds before deciding to flee, taking the red rope with her. Sophie, disoriented and terrified, collapsed to her knees, coughing violently, struggling to catch her breath. The edges of her vision blurred into darkness as she trembled, gasping. The watchman crouched beside her, worried, “Oh... Girl, are you okay?” he asked, helping her steady herself.

Sophie barely felt the pain from the fight, focusing on getting her lungs to work properly again, but tears began to stream down her face. After a few moments, she finally managed to speak, her voice hoarse,“I was attacked. I was alone. Locking up the shop. It didn’t feel like a robbery”, she said slowly, her breath labored, as she explained what had happened to the watchman. He immediately escorted her to the police station nearby, so she could file a report. Sophie did her best to detail all the situation, but everything had happened so fast and in the dark. “I don’t know who she was, that damn hood showed nothing! I also don’t know why anyone would want to kill me, but she certainly tried!” Sophie knew she should try to control her words, but she neither had the strength nor the will to do so. The officers listened attentively and promised to investigate the case, doing their best to calm her down, but it was clear to everyone that there were no real leads. With a heavy heart, but relieved to have escaped the attack, Sophie was released after being evaluated and treated. A older officer, wiith a kind face, she remembered his name was Harold, drove her home in a squad car.

When they arrived, she debated whether to call her parents immediately. She decided it was best to do it as soon as possible—she needed the comfort of her family. The conversation was brief but intense; she was trying to spare what was left of her voice. “You need to leave there immediately, sweetheart, you dad will get the car ready to come pick you up. We can be there in a few hours!”. They were in shock and insisted she go to their house in another city, where she would be safer, “What if this person comes back?”. Sophie hesitated, reluctant to leave her home but knowing she had to consider their suggestion. “I need a few days to organize things”, she said, trying to sound calm even though her heart was racing. “I’ve lived here since the graduation, I can’t just abandon my things”. “Your life is worth more than anything you own, dear”, her father replied, he always knew what to say. She wanted to tell them about the bizarre dreams, the feeling of being hunted, but she didn’t want to scare them even more. That could wait. After a bit more conversation, she hung up the phone with the promise to pack her things, and in a few days, her parents would come.

Sophie knew she had to find a way to rest. She felt that if she didn’t do it soon, she would lose her sanity. She started undressing on her way from the living room to the bathroom, throwing her clothes around without caring. The shower was quick. She needed to wash away the feeling of near death, the smell of sweat, the grime from the street after rolling on the ground with that stranger and cleaning her wounds. Everything stung—even the feel of her own fingers on her skin was rough. After about 15 minutes, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, stopping only to brush her teeth quickly. Avoiding the mirror at all costs, “I’m afraid of what I’ll see in there”. Entering her bedroom, she threw on the first thing she found in the closet and layed down, pulling the blanket up to her chin and turning on her side, her back facing the wall, feeling safer that way. Despite what every movie shows, sleep overtook her quickly, she didn’t even notice when she fell asleep, and it was a dreamless night.

Sophie woke up with a throbbing pain in her head, a sensation that seemed to come from deep within her mind, forcing her to relive fragments of something lost to time. She sat on the edge of the bed, pressing her fingers against her temples, as flashes of the previous night returned to her. The cold touch of that woman’s hand, the sound of their labored breaths, the indistinct figure lurking in the shadows... Her eyes narrowed, trying to hold onto these fleeting images, but it was like trying to grasp water with her fingers. Standing up slowly, Sophie walked to the window of her bedroom, hoping something would feel different. But as she stared at her own reflection in the glass, it was like looking at a stranger. There was something in her eyes—a shadow that didn’t belong to the life she remembered, she stood there for a few minutes, absorbing the weight of this realization: she was someone she barely recognized. The silence of the house felt overwhelming, filled only with the sound of her heart pounding.

As she walked through the streets toward work, Sophie noticed that everyone was talking about what had happened. Whispers rose around her, and she could feel the curious and pitying glances directed at her, especially at the bruised neck. It was as if, suddenly, the safety the town had provided her unraveled, and she felt exposed and vulnerable. With a deep sigh, Sophie pressed on, determined to face the day despite the lingering fear. If she was really going to leave, she needed to settle some things first—she couldn’t just hide away. The weight of adult responsibilities loomed over her, with this thought in mind, she found the strength to continue her next steps. She was so lost in her thoughts that it took her a few minutes to realize she was already standing in front of the store where she worked.

[empressofthesunwriter]

Maiden of the Moon

What if Kokushibo had a pupil, whom he taught the original Moon Breathing before he deserted the Demon Slayer Corps?

Mochizuki Yua was born only for these reasons: To become a Hashira and make her family a respected one in the Demon Slayer Corps.

But if you only live for the expectations of others, who are YOU truly?

What will it take to find yourself?

A long, hard journey awaits.

!!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!

I want to thank you all that you didn’t give/gave a chance to my little FF!

Now I gave the Spider Family a big sister so Yua had someone to fight. I made her even with a base, so check my Deviantart!

Can some of you guys from whom I got the inspiration for Onee-Sama and the fight they both have?

Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 7: Onee-Sama

Her lungs felt like collapsing.

The Katana in her hand weighed so much.

She shivered all over her body.

But Yua couldn’t give up.

She swiped with her Aura-Sensing again the clearing she was in.

There!

On her left!

Total Concentration! Moon-Breathing! Second Form: Moongazing Pearl Blossom!

Yua performs three crescent-shaped slashes which deflect the incoming spider thread arrows of her opponent.

“Fu, fu, fu.”, laughed the spider demon, from his hidey-hole. “Little girl, aren’t you tired already? How long can you deflect my attacks?”

The midnight blue-haired beauty gulps but doesn’t back down.

“As long as I can!”, she spats back.

I have to give Tanjiro and Inosuke enough time to reach the demon who controls the other Demon Slayers!

***

A few minutes ago, Yua was racing with Tanjiro and Inosuke through the forest.

Well, she and Tanjiro had to drag Inosuke with them.

After the maks-wearing boy had pinpointed the location of the Spider Demon, who used the other Demon Slayer as puppets, they didn’t know how to reach it.

Thankful Murata and Katsumi had told them to go on and that the two would handle the controlled Demon Slayer. They now knew to cut the threads and be careful of the little spiders.

It happened that Inosuke insulate them telling them that they had pissed their pants before, to which Murata rebuked him was a stupid boar.

Inosuke was ready to kick his ass, thankful she and Tanjiro had gripped him and run forth with him.

Huffing annoyed the boar-headed boy told them: “Dammit! I’m gonna punch that guy if it’s the last thing I do!”

“Stop talking like that!”, told him Tanjiro.

“He called me “a stupid boar”, okay, Monjirou!”

“It’s “Tanjiro”!”

“How can you mess up names so much?!”, adds Yua huffing.

“What’ya mean Yue?”

“THAT right here!? Do I look like I have white hair and blue eyes?”

“Anyway!”, intervented Tanjiro. “We’re heading the right way, right?”

“My senses never lie!”

Like lighting stroke her, Yua Aura-Sensing acted up.

“GET DOWN!”, she screamed and tackled both boys to the ground.

“Yua-Senpai?!”

“What’s your problem, woman!”

However, both boys were speechless when they saw three big white arrows impaled in the ground where they had stood before their Senpai had tackled them.

“W-What?!”, mubled Tanjiro.

He hadn’t even smelled them, so fast were they.

Thankful Yua must have sensed them with her ability.

“Ara, Ara, what do we have here?”, said a feminine voice mockingly. “A handsome boy, a beautiful girl and a ripped half-boar man? You are quite interesting. I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”

The three Demon Slayers stood up and sheathed their Katanas.

“Inosuke is this the Demon?”, wondered Tanjiro aloud.

It was Yua who answered him. “No, this is a different one. The other demon was so far away that my Aura-Sensing didn’t reach it. Also, the arrows have a different Aura hefting on them than the threads that control the Demon Slayers.”

An eerie giggle was heard.

“Fu, fu, fu, beautiful and smart. You will taste good girl. I won’t let you near my mother.”

So the mother of the spider demons controlled the Demon Slayers. At least this was good to know.

Again Yua Aura-Sensing acted up.

“Guys get ready!”, she took a deep breath. “Total Concentration! Moon Breathing! Seventh Form: Mirror of Fortune, Moonshine!”

The barrage of arrows, which was flying towards the three friends, gets stopped by Yua's technique. She performs a frontal crescent-shaped slash that unleashes straight and curved slashes that expand outward, hitting all arrows.

“Tzz!”, grumbles the spider demon.

Tanjiro and Inosuke are in awe.

They never saw Moon-Breathing in action.

It was really as powerful and beautiful as their Senpai told them.

“Kamada, Hashibira!”, turns Yua to them. “You two go along. I will take care of this demon. You need to get to the Spider Mother, it doesn’t make sense if we all stay here.”

“But Yua-Senpai.”, mumbles Tanjiro worried.

Yes, their Senpai and her Breathing Style were on a whole different level than theirs, but could they really leave her behind?

Yua gives them a confident smirk, which makes Tanjiro feel all the flattery in his stomach, even Inosuke feels strangely shyly seeing it.

It was...hot.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m not a Hinoto for nothing. I can take care of myself. Now go!”

Tanjiro thanks her and he and Inosuke start running.

This makes the Spider Child (?) scream in outrage: “You aren’t going to touch my mother!”

She sends arrows after the boys, but Yua is already there.

“Total Concentration! Moon-Breathing! Eighth Form: Moon Dragon’s Tail!” 

Swift Yua performs a massive long-ranged curved slash that leaves dozens of crescent moon blades along its path. The moon blades hit all arrows and Tanjiro and Inosuke are safe to go on.

“You are going on my nerves, girl!”, hisses the Spider Demon.

“And I just got started.”, sasses Yua back.

 ***

This was like a half hour ago and Yua felt how she got weaker with any attack.

It was just her luck that she couldn’t pinpoint where her adversary was hiding because she didn’t give her enough time to do a good sweep of the clearing.

She needed to try while she got attacked to sense the Demon.

This was the only way!

As the spider demon sent new arrows at her Yua performed Moon-Breathing Fifth Form: Ghost of the Moon, Advantageous Swirl! It creates multiple long and curved slashes layered over one another, essentially creating a vortex of crescent moon blades.

Hopefully, this would give her enough time to sense where the demon was hiding.

The midnight blue-haired girl reached with her Aura-Sensing to the borders of her ability and finally, she found the demon.

It was hiding up a tree, not far from her.

Determined Yua ran up to it, deflecting the arrows that were sent towards her, and with a scream she cut the tree down.

This made the Spider Demon jump out of it.

It stood now before her, pissed off.

Like Yua had guessed, it was a young woman, with white skin and red circles markings on her face. Her Kimono was white with some red accents and a green Obi. She wore normal wood sandals and her curly white hair had a green orb-like hair comb to the side.

In her hands, the demon holds a bow and arrows.

“You are a pest!”, hissed the Spider Demon Girl. “I will feast on you!”

“Come at me then, bitch!”, Yua growled back.

With a scream, the Demon ready her bow to shoot her.

Yua quickly dodged the arrow and charged towards the Spider Demon Girl. She swung her sword with precision, but the demon was quick to dodge and counterattack.

The Mochizuki felt herself getting weaker with each hit, yet she refused to give up. She needed to end this quickly before she lost all her strength.

 The two continued to exchange blows, neither one gaining an advantage over the other.

“I have to hit her with my strongest technique or I will be spider lunch!”, thought Yua desperate.

Uncle Noritaka had taught her before he left the family their family ultimate technique. It was of his own creation and had secured him a place at becoming a Hashira, even if in the end he had refused.

However, Yua was scared to use it.

It took an enormous toll on the body.

Muscles and bones could break if you didn’t do it precisely.

She only ever used it on practice wood dolls, never on a Demon.

Could she even do it?

Does she even have a choice?

No.

So she gathered all her strength for one final and hopeful devastating attack.

Yua closed her eyes and focused on the technique. She could feel her body trembling with anticipation and fear.

With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and charged towards the Spider Demon Girl. As she swung her sword, she shouted, "Moon-Breathing, Forbidden Techinic! Executing Moonlight Paradise!"

A loud boom echoed through the clearing as Yua's sword struck the ground in a crescent shape, sending shockwaves through the ground and air.

The Spider Demon Girl was flung screaming to the air, where Yua followed her and started to cut her over and over in crescent forms all over her body. It was so fast that it seemed that the Spider Demon Girl was cute by moonlight, thanks that Yua's sword was white.

She fell to the ground, a mess of ripped-open meat.

You couldn’t even recognize the Spider Demon Girl anymore.

Yua was covered in a white shimmering aura, making her look like moonlight herself.

With a last deep breath, she jumped high up and attacked the neck of the demon.

She cut her head, or what had remained of it, off.

The Spider Demon Girl let out a blood-curdling scream as she disintegrated into ash.

The Demon Slayer stood there for a moment, panting heavily from exhaustion.

She had done it.

She had defeated a demon all on her own using the Moon-Breathing ultimate technique.

As she walked away from the clearing, Yua couldn't help but feel proud of herself for what she had accomplished. She knew that Uncle Noritaka would be proud of her too if he were here to see it.

It was then that all forces left her and she fell face down to the forest ground.

Welcoming darkness embraced her.

***

Yua didn’t know how long she was out, but she awoke abruptly as someone slapped her face.

“Hello dear cousin, long time no see.”, greeted Sayako, her younger cousin, Yua.

She was dressed in her Kakushi uniform.

So that means...

“Huh, we won. Didn’t we?”, she asked Sayako.

Sayako huffed and petted her hair.

“Of course, you care more if the mission was complete than greeting me after so long.”

“Hello Sayako, you are still a pain in my ass.”

“Much better.”, hummed Sayako. Careful she picked Yua up and placed her on her back, giving her a piggyback ride. “Well, you sure made interesting friends, I must say. You and they keep holding off the Demons till the honourable Hashira’s Kocho-Sama and Tomioka-Sama could come.”

“Are the guys okay?”, Yua asked worried.

“Well, as well you can be facing a Lower Moon.”

“A Lower Moon was here?!”

“He made all this Spider Demon. Wanted to make a family if I understood right, but your friends are wounded but okay. You will join them at the Butterfly Mansion for cures.”

A little yawn escaped Yua and she snuggled herself closer to Sayako.

“That sounds good. I used Uncle Noritaka's forbidden technique, I think some of my muscles took damage.”

Impressed Sayako let out a whistel.

“Wow, YuYu, you didn’t break a bone. You are really something!”

“Yeah and now I gonna faint again.”

She only heard Sayako's amused laughter before she fainted again.

Yua was sure she earned herself some rest.

***

Moon-Breathing! Second Form: Moongazing Pearl Blossom! Is Second Form: Pearl Flower Moongazing.

Moon-Breathing Fifth Form: Ghost of the Moon, Advantageous Swirl! Is Fifth Form: Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy

Moon Breathing! Seventh Form: Mirror of Fortune, Moonshine! Is Seventh Form: Mirror of Misfortune, Moonlit

Moon-Breathing! Eighth Form: Moon Dragon’s Tail! Is Eighth Form: Moon-Dragon Ringtail

Moon-Breathing, Forbidden Techinic! Executing Moonlight Paradise! Is my own invention. ^^

I know it’s a short chapter but I didn’t want to drag it on.

In the next chapter, we will stay at the Butterfly Mansion, and rehabilitation training and bonds will get deeper.

Can’t wait for it.

Until next time!

!!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!

[adaraprince]

The Club

Chapter 1 here! Chapter 2 here! Chapter 3 here! Chapter 4 here! Chapter 5 here! Chapter 6: Loki Laufeyson

-> The Club's masterlist

Warnings: This is a +18 story, dealing with topics such as sex, kinks and prostitution. Therefore, minors should not interact.

Synopsis: Asgard's whimsical little prince needs to be told that he's been a bad boy and needs to be punished for it, as always our pretty lady is ready to help him.

______________________________________________________________

You could still feel the winter chill on your nose, walking into the dressing room and pulling the day's uniform off the rack. The morning frost was particularly biting; it acted as a prelude to his client. He rarely visited, and when he did, it was only in winter. You could not guess what the man did in his absence; you suspected that his boundless pride and personal superiority limited him to only one visit a year.

Despite the long interval, you enjoyed his visits so much; it was a rare gift and honour for a human being to bend a God.

The corset he asked for was tight, digging into your ribs and flesh, the mesh between the bones pressing its pattern into your skin. Delia was already at your back, tightening the laces as you tugged at the balconette that barely concealed your nipples. You pulled your arms up into her favourite pair of long leather gloves, the leather supple as butter, perfect for impact. Matching heels, boots rolled up to your thighs, and a leather skirt that looked more like a wide belt hid your sex; all your most private parts out of sight, out of reach.

It was exactly as he wished; for a man who had everything he could desire at the snap of his fingers, denial was a secret and shameful craving.

You were glad to oblige.

"The Little Prince wants his usual today," Delia murmured, checking her order list. "Oh, but he wants a bit of breath play; it says here 'you'll know when to do it'."

He was always vague; allowing you to work out the how and when of his demands. Maybe it came from his real upbringing, not caring about the details; but he enjoyed the creativity found in his lax descriptions. It was the most fun.

"Should be a good time," you smiled. Clapping your hands, you headed for the door. "Hopefully very little cleaning." "God's will."

""----- ४ ★ ४-----""

The room the Prince enjoyed most had no bed of any kind; it looked more like an acrobatics studio than anything else. Straps and ropes hung from the walls, from the ceilings; a slab of wood in the centre for clients to bend over and punish. This room was not for the faint of heart; but he eagerly selected it each and every time.

However, when you entered, you were nowhere to be seen. A smile graced your lips; he wanted the works this time.

Swinging your hips for an audience you couldn't see, you made your way to the wooden slab. At hip height, you sat comfortably, throwing one leg over its twin and pretending to wait. Tapping your foot, rolling your eyes, grumbling to yourself; it was all part of the game. One who had lost, the second who had set the rules.

You had no doubt he had his eyes on you; watching you get frustrated by his absence, feigning irritation painted on your face. Wherever he was, I bet he was biting those pale lips, his breathing unsteady as your shoulders tensed and your brows furrowed. He wanted it all; all your anger, your displeasure. He would earn every drop of punishment he could before you even saw it.

You yawned, just as you registered a green glow to your left, just behind you. You didn't turn, didn't even look in his direction; he didn't want that.

"Mm… hello sweetheart," his rough voice in that snake's tongue put a slight chill in your bones; not long ago he was trying to destroy the very city you call home. "Don't you look good enough to eat, like a well-tethered beast--"

"I don't remember saying you could talk," your tone was colder than winter, colder than you knew his skin to be. "Nor did I give you permission to make any comment on my appearance."

He scoffed, finally rounding the slab, introducing himself to you; he hadn't cut his slick black hair since you last saw each other, and God that he was, he had all but a new wrinkle around his green eyes. "How could I not, you divine creature? Every time we meet, somehow you look even more dazzling; despite the vestiges of time on your mortal body--"

Your leathery hand clapped over his mouth; he grimaced with the sting.

"Close. Your. Mouth," he hissed, his burning gaze piercing your wide eyes. You stood up from the slab, precarious heels keeping you almost level. You took a step; straight onto his softly shod foot.

"Making me wait, speaking out of turn, daring me to speak? can you comprehend the anger you are incurring, Brat?"

His eyes glittered and you could feel his mouth twist into a smile behind your glove. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand down; the last deliberate action he would do for his session. Even in her milky skin, a warmth grew in her cheeks, and her eager tongue slid over her lips.

"Show me… Goddess."

Like lightning, your fingers snapped around her throat; her choked gasp was like music. Strip, you worm. And you'll get what you've earned.

Then he grinned boldly, snapping his fingers; the leather and armour were magically removed, and you immediately felt his insistent hardness slapping against your hip. You glanced at his penis, then back at his eyes with a pursed lip and a mocking look.

"You unrepentant little snake," your second hand slid down beneath his shaft and closed around his testicles in a vice grip. Despite the pounding of his blood, his skin was icy cold. "You were touching what's mine while you were making me wait, weren't you? What little self-control you had to put your grubby little hands on this little toy…"

He grunted and writhed under your grip, teeth gritted and fists clenched; so much pain, but he loved it. "H-how could I not, Goddess…?" he gasped, your fingers tightening around his neck. "You looked so… so delicious, waiting for me… I had to-"

"Shut that lying mouth!" Leaving his throat, your fingers twisted in his hair, clenching a fistful at the nape of his neck. Using it as a leash, you dragged him towards the slab, turning him until his thighs touched the edge. "What you had to do was behave yourself. What you had to do was be on time. What you had to do was be a good little prince…" you twisted his wrist, along with his coat. He groaned. "But no. Always the whiny, selfish brat."

His mouth hung open, gulping air with a true face of regret. "S-sorry, Goddess," his hands slapped the table as your nails, despite the gloves, dug in.

You arched an eyebrow and finally let him go, only to push him back against the slab. "I sincerely doubt you can, brat," you hummed, pulling his arms above his head. Fists, anchored to the slab itself, buckled around each of his wrists. The chain rattled between them; enough movement to beg, to plead, but little more. "You've told me nothing but lips, sass and disappointment… maybe I should leave you naked, strapped down… untouched."

"No!" Her response had too much demand; She screamed as you twisted her nipple, ending with a slap. "P-please, don't… let me serve you, I'll prove my worth. It's… it's all I want."

You snorted, but you knew he meant it. The spoiled prince was never satisfied until he saw your own desires. Your nails trailed gently down his chest, stomach, and muscular hip; his length contracted with anticipation.

"You've got a lot to pay, you selfish little insect," lightly flicking his cock, you turned your back to him to appreciate the ample toy chest against the wall. "I don't know if I could bear to fuck you today? Why should I degrade myself to a whole new level of disappointment?"

"If I haven't earned your quim, my dear, so be it," he tugged at his restraints as he rummaged through the chest. He could break free in a moment, break your neck in a minute; but he wouldn't. "Use me, as you see fit. I am your servant, Goddess, I am your flock… let me worship you as you deserve."

You smiled, finding what you were looking for; a ring, only two sizes too small. A cage, punctured on the inside with metal studs. Perfect. "Fine, whiny creature," you feigned an exasperated sigh, holding up your intended toys as you walked back to your captive. "But if you're going to regret it, a little flogging will help.

He looked paler as his eyes widened in excitement. "Whatever you say, my Goddess."

""----- ४ ★ ४-----""

The cage hollowed and hugged his sack, the studs pierced his skin; they couldn't draw his Divine blood, but the pain was exquisite. His cock was turning blue, almost purple; the ring at its base held back his release, but prolonged his desired agony. The Prince's jewels, wrapped in anguish, painted a beautiful picture.

Not that you could see it; with your hips straddling his face, eyes fixed on his, and your lower lips beyond the reach of his tongue. "I know you want it," you teased, swaying your hips. Honestly, you wanted it too, the Prince was a master at eating pussy, but this was part of the game. "You spoiled little rich boy, you have everything you want in the world… except the taste of me on your lips."

He groaned, thrusting and bucking from his prone position. "Please!" he cried, pleading his situation. "I'm not allowed pleasure, I know my Goddess, but won't you let me give you yours? I crave it, to see your climax, to taste your ecstasy…"

"And isn't that in itself a reward?" you replied, slipping two fingers under your barely visible skirt to part your folds. You groaned at the sight. "You think you're somehow entitled to my pleasure just because you're here? Eh… you're dumber than you look."

His nose twisted and for a moment, real annoyance crossed his face. "I only wish to give you what you deserve," he murmured, turning his head to kiss the inside of your thigh. "I seek not to take, only to give… let me give you pleasure, my love. My goddess."

"Well if you insist."

You dropped your weight on his expectant mouth and he didn't waste a second. His tongue attached itself to your clit almost instantly, licking and sucking, desperate for the ambrosia he hoped to draw from you.

Your mouth opened in a gasp, but you didn't moan or whimper; he wasn't allowed the praise of your sounds. Instead, you plunged one hand into the crown of his hair, pulling hard and holding it between your thighs, working so diligently. Your second hand pulled back, prying at his chest and scratching his cold skin. His eyes seemed blurry, as if he was close to completion himself; the heady mix of pain and ecstasy, the punishment and reward of your sex was enough to drive him over the edge.

In a way, he was your easiest customer; even if he had the most demands.

"Finally, a use for the brat," you teased, rubbing your hips against his mouth. He flicked his talented tongue down, sliding up into your core as his sharp nose was wedged against your button. Eager… hungry… and still barely acceptable to please a woman. It's a miracle he's held out on you this long.

He hummed what sounded similar to "I'm sorry" between your legs, but you were actually approaching your climax too fast to care. You let your head tilt back, still pushing against his skilled attentions as you held your usual moans behind your lips. The young god was too talented for his own good; if he spent half his time putting his tongue to work instead of lying, you'd have bet he'd be king by now. You peered into his tenacious gaze, drilling you, focused so deeply on your orgasm, your delight, you.

What a good little prince.

"You could take me there after all," this time it was harder to hide the ragged breath in your voice, the impending peak evident in your words and body. I could tell; your nectar flowed freely on his tongue, and he drank like a thirsty man in a desert. "Since you're so hungry, make yourself useful; make your Goddess cum, brat… show me why I let you in here…"

An outraged man, he pushed his head up and forced his tongue to new depths; it almost felt as if several tongues were playing and working on your clit, your folds, deeper inside you. With his magic, it was a very real possibility.

"Mm… yes, he's a good boy…" you whimpered, unable to contain yourself, but he was earning the praise. "That's right, fuck yeah…!!!" Finally working his perfect teeth into the mix, they scraped your button, playing in a crescendo complete with his tongue swirling and lashing madly; and you were finished.

Your moans echoed in your throat as your back arched, your body trembled and your thighs hugged his head tightly; the coolness of his tongue against the heat of your orgasm created the perfect storm in your sex. Regardless of your weight, you let yourself fall completely onto his hungry mouth; he wanted to play with your breath, and he would get it.

You didn't relax, you didn't move until the last aftershocks faded from your legs and his fingers hit your knee; a signal to breathe. Carefully you rose, to find his mouth pink and sodden, panting as you had been; tears welling in his eyes.

"I-I…" you tried to form a sentence, anything, but the tears kept coming. She tugged at her bindings, twisting and thrashing; panicking, not playing. You had fallen a little too low.

Your character fled from you, and as quickly as they had been locked, you removed his cuffs and his wrists in your hands, rubbing them gently. "Easy, easy sweetheart," you whispered softly, lowering his outstretched arms to fold them against his chest. You pressed your forehead against his, trying to bring him back to the present, to the quiet reality. "It's okay, let it out, you're safe, baby… you're okay."

You repeated it once more, as he sank his face into your shoulder, his body now completely wracked with sobs. Tears were normal for the Prince, they came with the kind of play he enjoyed, but his mind had sunk too deep, and the combinations that normally brought him pleasure became too overwhelming.

It was nothing you hadn't seen before; but never from him. Eventually he stopped, his breathing slowed and his eyes finally screamed. He still clung to your hand, looking so small in yours. You didn't speak, you waited for him to make the first move; I needed the clue on this one.

"I… I'm sorry…" he sobbed and scratched his throat, finally looking into your eyes. "I…I…I couldn't help myself and I…I didn't want to ruin this day…"

He gestured down, and you saw what he meant; his own cum, sticky and cold, coated his slowly softening cock and balls, covering the cage and the broken ring.

You blinked in amazement; no one had ever broken a toy without physical intervention before.

Still, you didn't let it faze you; you took his face in your hands, pressing soft kisses on his nose. "You haven't ruined anything, my dear," you promised, running gentle caresses over her cheeks. "This day is for how we choose to spend it; and it's just beginning. We can get back to things, we can change our game," a soft kiss on her lips caught your attention. "And if you wish, we don't have to do any of that. We can just… be here.

His green eyes searched yours, looking for a lie; something he was used to, but wouldn't find in you. He sighed, as if he could breathe again, and wrapped his long arms around you.

"My Goddess… give me some time," he leaned into you and with him you felt the weight of his year away from you. I will make it up to you, I swear.

"No need," you reassured him, stroking his cheek. "You've already taken care of my fun… now let me help you find yours."

""----- ४ ★ ४-----""

[187days]

Day Seventy-Three

We have a tradition of holiday door decorating at my school, so this morning I covered my door in pretty foil wrapping paper and bold lettering reading "Joy to the World," then added information about holiday celebrations in various countries.

I'm very on brand. Heh.

My Global Studies students had a quiz today (content quiz, open notes, to wrap up our unit on major belief systems), which meant I just had to supervise, clarify the questions as needed, make sure everyone maintained the positive environment. My APGOV students had a quiz, too, but it was just a quick vocab quiz. After that, we picked up where we'd left off in civil rights history yesterday: with the Mississippi Sumer Project, and the disappearance of Michael Schwerner, Andrew Goodman, and James Chaney

I showed an excerpt of PBS' Freedom Summer, which I'm pretty sure made the majority of my students tear up, either when they realized the three men had been killed or when they saw the scenes from james Chaney's memorial service. So, afterwards, we discussed it for a bit. Then I had them read about the Selma march and other acts of protest- and, ultimately, about the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. They're reading an article for homework that covers the last few years of the Civil Rights Movement, and some of the policymaking that happened after that. We'll wrap up the unit on Monday.

What else?

I had a meeting with a local state rep who's interested in taking on student interns, which is very cool.

I also had a meeting with The Principal. He wanted to touch base with me because he'd just finished writing the first evaluations for the new teachers in my department. We talked about those for a bit, and about the way things have been going in general.

And, of course, I had track practice! Today I masqueraded as a middle/long distance coach, taking those athletes to do an interval workout that they found equal parts challenging and fun (note: the longstanding nickname for this workout is "Satan"). They're often left on their own to go on their long runs, but it's good to change it up and do something targeted at speed endurance.

We start meets next weekend, so I'd better enjoy this last free one while i can!

[theweefreewomen]

I saw eleven plays this year, most of them local, and I want to talk about them, so here are some quick-fire reviews.

in chronological watching order:

The Mousetrap

The classic murder mystery play. A very good start.

Labour of Love

Local; focusing on a Labour MP, starting on the election night of 2017 and going backwards through his career in the first half, and then forwards back to 2017 in the second. The chemistry between the two leads was fantastic, and solid acting all round. The back-and-forward timeline lent to a lot of really good set-ups and payoffs.

On Monday Next

Local; a play about putting on a play. A bit of an odd play to perform, since it didn't seem to give much room for the actors to do much. There were altogether too many characters, and only one and a half good roles. The play-in-a-play is meant to be bad, and just beginning rehearsals, so there's a lot of just standing around reciting lines. Both acts begin with a character breaking the forth wall, which is never again broken, which was really strange - why was only one character able to 'see' the audience? Pretty boring overal, and I would have hit the bricks if I wasn't there with a friend.

After All These Years

Local; four old friends and their dramas. When looking back at what theatre I've seen this year, I kept forgetting about this one. Inoffensively boring.

Romeo and Juliet

Local; an all-female retelling of the classic. The programne described this version as being set on a counsel estate, but I didn't really get that while watching. It did feel quite modern though; the Capulet party at the begining had Paris serendating Juliet with Elton's 'Your Song' karaoke. During the wedding scene between R+J, the body of Tybalt was still on the stage for that character's funeral, which I think was a great staging idea. The scene where Nurse finds Juliet's body, thinking she's dead, was heartbreaking and I was fighting back tears.

Anthropology

A woman builds an AI based on her missing, presumed dead, sister. I saw this in London for my birthday this year, and it was so good! The 'AI' sister was played using a combination of pre-recorded video and off-stage voice work. An interesting look at the tendency to romanticise dead loved ones and how difficult it is to cope with not knowing what happened. Very interesting family dynamics.

A Doll's House

Local; Ibsen. I really liked the set design in this, which used both the stage and the area in front of it. The actor playing Krogstad was perhaps overacting a little in places, but the actor playing Nora was very strong.

Past Tents

Local; two men at a campsite over the course of one night. The only play I reget seeing. It was trying to explore men's mental health, but seemed unwilling to actually be earnest about it, and kept undercutting itself with gross-out humour and over-the-top performances. Would have hit the bricks if there had been an interval.

Apologia

Local; the birthday dinner of an artist and activist with her sons and their partners. Explores the family dynamic and history between mother and sons. The acting all round was excellent, except for the one gay character who felt very flat and stereotyped. I really loved the set of this, it felt lived in. One of my favourites of the year.

It Is I, the Seagull

Local/touring; a one-woman show about opera and the first woman in space, written and performed by Lucy Mellors. A lot of fun and really poinant. Balances humour and seriousness really well. Another favourite; if you're in the south of England, look this up and see if she's touring it near you.

(sidenote: one of the credits in the programne was for 'Artist Wellbeing Practitioner', and I hope that becomes more of a thing.)

The Walkern Witch

Local; about a woman sentence to death for witchcraft. Part play, part script reading. This was a lot of fun, a nice mix of fun accents and singing. The actors were clearing enjoying themselves and that was infectious.

--

So, what's the takeaway from this? Partly that it's so good not to be working evenings constantly, but mainly that good theatre isn't limited to the West End or Broadway, that local and amatuer theatre is worth checking out.

es, sometimes it will be bad. Not gonna lie, sometimes it will be awful and you will wish you had just stayed in. But then sometimes it will be amazing and you'll be raving about it to your friends. And sometimes, you'll be dragged onstage to be part of a ballet line and getting emotional over 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'.

[uhlavender]

hey! yeah i went to vegas with a few friends. im not usually the one to have a schedule and plan each activity at each interval of time. with my usual friends we just go with the flow and have some vague idea of what to do and just do stuff spontaneously. but with this friend group i went with, we literally had a doc of what we're gonna do on each day and hour, so it was an interesting, different experience for me. it was definitely an efficient use of time, but i think i still prefer just chilling and just enjoying what life brings to the table. i think people see it as a waste of time or money not knowing what you're gonna do, but hey i see it as just relaxing, meditative, and just enjoying the present moment. kind of like fishing in a peaceful lake and waiting till something bites. it's interesting seeing which people prefer. i dont mind either approach! but i do think the efficient route can get tiring lol. how about you? when you're traveling for time-off, do you plan a schedule, or just wing it?

when i went to vegas i saw a couple of cirque du soleil shows and david blaine live. ok rant incoming: but man cirque du soleil is so inspring and just a spectacle of culture and life. it's a combination of art, love, and perseverance. all the artistic merging of stage lighting, design, music, peformance/stunts, costumes, choreography/dance is amazing and its insane it's all done live including the music. and david blaine was incredible too. i cannot believe how hard he works and that he's doing what he's doing at every show. i literally think he's like at the edge of dying if he keeps performing his act at his cadence lol. out of every show show i've seen live in my life, i think david blaine's is the most insane when it comes to live performance, preparation, and commitment from a single human. that dude give it his 200% lol. he's basically displaying highlights of his life's works in a single show, and so many things can just go wrong.

home is just my bedroom honestly. im not afraid to admit im a homebody especially after growing as an adult, i've just been accustomed to enjoying isolation and time alone. not that i dont like to go out, it's fun socializing time to time and going to events, but yeah i prefer working on projects and doing 'nothing' aka just being present / relaxing / simmering in my own thoughts/ideas. besides, not to be paranoid, but i think there's a higher chance of dying going out, especially these days. and i don't know about you, but id like to experience the world as long as i can lol. i already feel like im living in the future with how much society and technology progressed, so imagine what the future-future would be like. but yeah, some day i want my own studio or something. i can call that my home.

im learning korean because i studied there briefly and recently for a moment i wanted to learn a language again. i just think being stuck in your own culture is just living in a bubble. especially in the u.s., i just feel like were so ignorant of the outside world lol. not to simplify our society, but sometimes i just feel like all we do is complain or become a pessimistic hivemind that just judges shit all the time. maybe other places do the same, but it gets tiring and numbing with the internet/news flashing upsetting stuff. knowing a different language is a superpower really, you get a different perspective of the world, and immersing in another culture besides your own brings new ideas and perspectives in life. since i already knew about korean history, culture, and scratched the surface of the language, i wanted to dive deep again. korea already resonates with me because of its history as being an isolated hermit kingdom and i think the country is interesting because of its westernization after the war and how they adopted our ideas and made it their own. I think kpop fans kind of overshadow how interesting korea is, but yeah korea has cool ideas and artists. check out do ho suh, he does interesting stuff with fabric and conceptualizes stuff about home, space/environments, and identity. you might find it interesting. and i still cannot believe kim jung gi passed away, im still devastated. i feel like every artist who wanted to draw well aspired to be like him at some point in their life

i think i am proud of myself. and yeah your right, comparison fucking sucks, and you're only comparing your behind-the-scenes with others highlight reels lol. i think living in the information age is a blessing and a curse. you get to be inspired and see the greatest artists all around the world instantly at any moment, but it can also suck the life outta you - your comparing your 5 mile progress to people who've made it 1000 miles already in their journey, content becomes so saturated that it's harder to come up or find original new ideas, and its more difficult to satisfy your hunger when your fed so much content. it's just not healthy consuming so much all the time. i feel like once you're past the point of inspiration and now you're just depressed cuz u fucking suck, it's probably a sign you should be producing and not consuming anymore haha. it must've been so interesting how information and content was harder to find back in the day: life was more of a mystery not knowing stuff and how we didn't know each others lives every second. maybe ignorance was bliss.

do you take meds for your adhd?

yeah i understand that you can reinvent yourself. but i also think if you pivot too much, youll never grow as an artist. i think you just have to balance it out or keep yourself in moderation. for me, i see it as you can slowly pivot, but it's important to play your strengths and experiment on ideas that still remain parallel with your craft. theres this video about an artist struggling, and was inspired by another artist. the successful artist told him to just draw the same thing everyday. then the struggling artist learned a lot and figured out you can come up with more ideas and innovate when your restricted. he also learned that you just need to take action. pondering and consuming is not equivalent to progress/production. i think it goes back to the saying "I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times". In terms of art/expression, i see it as you won't experience the depths of a skill/craft or its community if you don't put in its mileage. imagine knowing 20 languages at a beginner level, vs 1 language at its utmost fluency. the experience, depth, complexity, expression is totally different. you can have advanced conversations, tell jokes, say phrases/idioms, create never existing sentences, it's just a whole different experience and connection with the world once you reach a deep vocabulary, grammar structure, and listening skill. i want that same conversation with art. i want that same ability, "speaking" skill with art. i want to have that same "listening" skill in art. i want to form complex sentences in art, not just words, and also "listen" to other peoples art if that makes sense. compare your speaking and language skill with your 12 year old self to yourself now. the way you can speak, express, and listen to others is at whole different level now then when you were 12 years old. i kinda see the same in reaching the depths in an art form. i know nothing about cooking honestly, but i can imagine once you reach it at a very high level, you completely see food and cooking in a different lens and have a deep appreciation, connection, and understanding of cooking and its complexity / "language".

i think if i did persevere, i can actually make something cool and finish a project for once. i want to put something out in the world and make a connection through art and ideas with people. and if i maintained my persistence, my work will progress and form a story, like a tree or song. i find that my coolest works were stuff that i was forced to do, e.g. given a deadline, or i was so passionate about something with a goal in mind and a set date. when there's no motivator, i feel like my mind wanders too much and i leave projects in the dust. it actually feels cool coming back to unfinished projects with a fresh perspective and also being like "hey i forgot i made this", but i feel like it's even cooler when you finish it on the spot and keep it as a historical frame or a special moment in time that was captured in your life. id rather keep the photo than the unshot film, if that makes sense lol.

yeah i find success kind of scary, but also i wonder what it would be like if i did go for it. will i go crazier? i can imagine liking the attention and really appreciating finally being recognized and making people happy or feel something. i can also imagine being emotional that people reflect or feel a connection to what i want to express. but i can also imagine hating it. i dont equate success to being famous, but if i do gather attention from success, i wouldn't like it. i really value privacy lol. and i don't want to deal with questions or criticism. i also dont want people to influence my work or feel the pressure to do something to satisfy fans or maintain relevance or a presence in the community. i just want to do it for myself, on my own terms.

ahh thats great you can sympathize about finding your specialty. and its awesome you have so many interests, all of em sound so exciting haha. i remember i wanted to make clothing at one point. that reminds me of another point though, you also don't have to do it all alone. the greatest artists out there work as a team. so if you have a vision, you don't have to work alone. we are human after all, and some of the most beautiful things we've made are made by a community or team effort. just a friendly reminder that you don't have to pick up these skills by yourself, you can work with others! but hey, if youre doing it out of interest or fun, i dont think it hurts either. films, books, music, clothes, statues, games, actually probably everything in existence is a combination of our efforts working together and collecting, sharing, and maintaining ideas and inventions throughout history. a bit off topic, but also i hate it when people think we take shortcuts or cheat when it comes to making something, like wtf we humans made these tools, so use it lol. its funny how new stuff is considered cheating, then we later adopted it as the norm. like autotune, photoshop, even old stuff like dribbling in basketball or using a calculator. makes u wonder about the future of a.i.

i guess what i just wrote about teamwork is relevant to your next point haha. yeah u can totally be a director. i honestly think part of being successful as an artist (or even just in general) is through connections and just putting yourself out there and being involved in the community. if your interested in all these skills and participate in each community, i can imagine being successful since your casting a big net to meet a lot of different artists with different ideas/perspectives. you can probably meet a lot of people from different backgrounds and form a network.

haha i think at one point when i was super young my doctor asked if i wanted adderall lol. i was definitely super imaginative, stupid/oblivious, and hyper when i was a kid, so i may have adhd, but i dont think so anymore. i was diagnosed with depression when i was a teen and may or may not been bipolar, but was never officially diagnosed during the time. i tried a lot of different meds then tapered off somewhere in college. then i had so many different episodes here and there. i had more existential/identity crisis, and probably a two or three ago, i finally was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and it explains so fucking much about everything i have done in life lol. it probably also explains why im so hesitant about picking up new hobbies/interests because i feel like im entering a manic episode, which is why i get scared if im too passionate about something.

but i made it pretty far. honestly i was going through all my old stuff and recently i was looking at all my old sketchbooks and i was experiencing revelations about myself. its cool that i have all these sketchbooks dating back to like early highschool, and i really captured not only my progress as an artist, but a lot of memories and points in my life and ideas i had. it was surreal and inspiring. i remember the environment/place i was in and the headspace i was at when i looked at a lot of the drawings/paintings. the early days were so innocent, then i could clearly see points where i was spiraling into depression and times where i was manic lol. i would make extensive lists and absolutely fill the page to the brim. and when i was depressed, the pages were isolated or i would take a half a year or more without creating anything. i see the same story with the songs i made.

i think the most i was fucking emotional are these two sketchbooks that were rubberbanded together and had pages that were taped shut. i had no idea what they were, and when i unfastened it, it wasnt a sketchbook but a journal. i dont remember this at all, and i pretty much documented the lowest point in my life lol. it was surreal and pretty much contrasted where i'm at now. i dont remember any of the days i documented. i dont even remember some of the names i mentioned or why i was upset. i felt like a different person wrote this. there was even a letter i wrote that i was supposed to give to someone but never did. the second sketchbook was also a journal, but had pages taped shut. i was scared but also super curious why i taped them shut. i thought it was gonna be like something awful like a suicide letter or something - it was labeled "for everyone or no one", but when i cut it open i was really surprised and super emotional. it was the complete opposite, it was actually a bunch of messages from all my classmates that wrote in my sketchbook to say their goodbyes before we graduated. i absolutely forgot about this, and it was surreal how positive the messages were, especially comparing myself where i am now. a lot of people said i was funny, artistic/creative, unique, and glad i was in their life. some people even wrote they knew ill be successful or stuff like that. i forgot about these people in my life. after that though, the later pages funnily contrasted the messages. i was still journaling my depression, but in a more formal manner, it felt kinda edgy lol, but i guess i was more in a super aware depression and not a completely lost, ignorant depression. it slowly became less depressing as the pages go on, then later became a sketchbook again.

i remember reading that when u have depression or some form of mental illness, you get memory loss, and it explains a lot. there's lots of huge gaps in my memory of highschool and college. those days are completely lost to me. i dont remember anything unless i documented it through a journal, drawing, or song. i feel like im a detective discovering a story by following a trail, but that story is about me. pretty surreal, i feel like a completely different person now.

anyway i think i ranted too long. sorry if this is super fucking long, i feel like a crazy person, but i guess im just flowing with a lot of thoughts and ideas. i may or may not be in a different state of mind right now lol, so i apologize if im sharing too much or talking my mouth off. let me know if you like or don't like these type of messages, and ill moderate my mouth depending on your response haha.

thanks for listening if you actually read every word i wrote this late at night. i feel like i wrote a fucking essay or thesis lmao. it's kind of fun thinking i'm writing all this and it will be stored and archived in the depths of the internet. it's like a journal or snippet of someone's life and someone, including myself, can read this in the future (if tumblr still exists).

Hey!

Sorry about my late reply. I saw this huge block of text and got overwhelmed.

When it comes to traveling a like a mix of both structure and spontaneity. It's nice to have a rough guideline for what you want to do for sure and then fill in the blanks as you go. I recently went to MXCD with some friends and that's what we did! I love it. One of my best vacations ever.

And wow that's cool! I don't really know who David Blaine is but I'm glad youve enjoyed both of these shows.

I think it's great to embrace your lonesome! And you're right, there are more dangers outside and it would be nice to see what life in the future is like. But I hope even though you like to stay inside that you are not doing it out of fear. For me, I'd rather die young and experience the world as much as I can than the other way around.

As for language, I totally agree that languages are a superpower. You know about 30% of Americans have a working passport? Of those people, even fewer have left the country. Korean is an interesting choice. I think it's great that you find it interesting though. I think after Chinese I want to learn Spanish.

I think living in the age of the internet is for sure a blessing and a curse but I think overall it's a blessing. Yes tech companies design with the intent of addiction, but at least the power to disconnect is still technically there. I'd much rather be able to connect, learn from others, and see how expansive and vast everyone is than to stay within an echo chamber I have no choice but to stay in. I think the difference is just choice. You know what I mean?

Yes I take welbutrin for adhd but I'm going to switch to stratera and see how that goes. Adderall makes me too anxious.

I understand what you mean about being kinda good at many things vs being really good at one thing. I think both have merit. In capitalism, the latter is prioritized, but it's really the interdisciplinary people who understand all the moving parts who can see the bigger picture.I don't know if I've mentioned this, but there's the phrase, “a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.” I think it's sharpening one skill is overrated in my opinion. I've been to many countries and have stayed in a couple of homestays too (thailand and india) and something I am reminded everywhere I go is that communication is often times beyond language.

I think it's totally fair to create for yourself. No need to monetize it.

Yea there is a lot to say about ai's impact on art but I don't think technology is anything to be afraid of. It's the people programming and using it.

I am super grateful to be an artist in NYC, cuz all of my friends are also artists. It makes my life so beautiful and inspiring. I adore my friends, huge fans of them.

I think passion is beautiful! Feels like it's just concentrated love mixed with energy. It's a life force. But I hope you don't let your bipolar stop you. You can learn to work with it, not against it. Do you see a therapist?

It's so cool that you still have all that artwork! I feel like that's my tumblr lol. Maybe you can make new artwork with it. It's like you are addressing your child self, letting them meet you.

Aw I love that story about your sketchbook! I always forget and deflect every nice thing someone says about me so I think it's very special to have them written down. Proof you're loved.

I also don't really remember a lot of my childhood. I wish I could journal now the way I used to, but I've never been actually consistent outside of the time I went to india and didn't have a phone or internet. I feel bad and upset at myself for not hacing the discipline to journal more, but I gotta be gentle with myself. ADHD seeps into every facet of my life and my life makes me feel like I can never write enough about it so why bother. (I know why to bother but it's still hard)

Lol yea this was a lot to get through but I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing this w me. How's summer going for you? It's been good for me, but cancer season has been emotional. I almost broke up with someone I really like last night but they begged for another chance even though I just don't think we are in similar places in life or even have comparable experiences with love and dating. I do really like him though, and I'm also not the type to give up without a second chance so we will see what happens. Tonight I had a date w another person I've been seeing for months and I feel like tonight reaffirmed we are probably better as friends. There is a standard I have for the way my romantic partners treat me and this just isn't it. (I'm polyamorous btw lol)

My longtime partner Myka and I have been good though. They really are my best friend.

I feel like I wrote too much for be to proofread rn at 3:30am so I'm just gonna hope it makes sense. These are huge ass blocks of text

[sexyvampkitty]

RP Solo...’The Morning After’

I stir awake in Damon's arms...stretching a bit...wincing at the soreness that I'm still experiencing from another round of somewhat violent sex last night. It left me feeling a bit...raw...in a place that I'm not really used to...but I'm definitely not complaining. This is only the second time that my boyfriend took me in such a manner...bending me over the couch...pounding into me roughly from behind with my hands restrained above my head. Although...this time...he seemed a bit...angrier than normal. Of course...again...that was my fault. In my own twisted way...I enjoy seeing just how far I can push him...wondering each time what his response will be. I know that he felt bad about what he'd done to me afterwards...I could see the guilty expression written all over his features...but I tried to assure him that he had no reason whatsoever to feel that way. Actually, I think it's kind of cute that he feels bad about acting like that every single time. He's too damn sweet for his own good. Every day, I continue to wonder what I did to deserve him...and what he ever saw in me to begin with. I have to admit that I'm not as pretty as other girls...I felt the same way when I was a human freshie living with Josef. All of his donors looked like freaking models...so I have no clue why he wanted me around either. I still think that he was only using me for my blood, even though he told me multiple times that that wasn't the only reason. Even though Damon constantly tells me that I'm beautiful I just...don't always feel that way. I never did. Anyway...back to the sex. I have to admit...I always did like it rough...especially back when I first had my humanity switched off...and it kind of carried over after that. My ex husband and my last boyfriend...they both treated me like I was fragile...as if they were going to break me or something. I'm a vampire. It would be different if I was still a human. I can't be hurt...not in that way...not really. Besides...even if I 'did' happen to break something during sex...it wouldn't take me that long to heal. I finally found the man that I've always wanted. Someone who can be sweet...but can also be rough...yet knowing how much I'm willing to take at the same time...never pushing too far. I can tell that he wants to be intimate romantically as well...but...I'm not sure if I'm capable of that. I guess I've been used and tossed away so many damn times...that I'm not sure how to be...romantic...but I know that he loves me either way. Even my first boyfriend...as much as I sort of hated him later for leaving me the way that he did...always disappearing on me in weird intervals...he was the only other man who ever 'got' me...who wasn't afraid to 'play' rough when I wanted and needed it...emotions off or not. I stretch my legs a bit more...still wrapped in Damon's arms...letting out a soft snicker as I almost cause the both of us to roll over and tumble to the floor in the process. We never even made it upstairs to bed last night...instead deciding to crash on the couch after we came back down from our combined passion high...wearing whatever we had on...in Damon's case...that meant no pants and no boxer shorts...in my case...it meant a shirt and my skirt...but no panties. I'm still not sure what had possessed me to wear a thong...or a skirt...since I usually don't wear either. I guess I had just wanted to please my man subconsciously. I lift my head up a little...opening my mouth and letting out a yawn...then settle my head back down onto Damon's chest again...his cock still buried deep inside me. I know that he will have to leave soon for the day...so I try to enjoy these quiet, peaceful moments with him every morning as much as possible. Releasing a contented sigh...I let my eyes slip closed...and start to drift off to sleep... [END]

[ivesleptsolong]

He was slightly surprised at her question. Had she been curious about how it worked for him? He wouldn't withhold information from her. He just figured it was problematic for her, especially when he detected her racing heartbeat in the past whenever she saw him drink. He thought she was frigthened of him because of what he was.

"Back in the time when I was last awake", he traced his fingertips along her hand, wrist, up her lower arm, slowly. "It was much harder, you know?"

With a small smile, he reached her upper arm, then shoulder, then collarbone. His fingertips ever so gently ghosted over her neck, then he traced a line to her jaw.

"Feeding, for everyone involved, both vampire and human alike, is an intimate act. But it's tricky if one or both refused to let go. It could end in a tragedy, and fast."

Edward cupped her face with one hand, enjoying her warmth against his equally warm palm.

"I've managed, though; drinking from different people at different intervals, never going for too much, just a little every time, to keep myself from starving. I had educated mortals around me, there were people in my home whom I trusted, who gave their blood willingly to me. But it was always dangerous. Now", he glanced at the crystal goblet as he removed his hand from her cheek, "I may not get it directly from the source. It might not taste as good as it would if I drank directly from someone. But I could never fuflill my needs as I can, now. And the best part of it: it's donated blood." He smiled up at her happily, tilting his head back on the armchair's backrest. "The quantity and knowing that I've harmed no one, because they gave it willingly, makes up for it, it really does."

[ clean ] sender reaches up to wipe something off receiver's face (A bit of blood perhaps? I figure she learns he is a vampire some time)

| Comfortable Intimacy |

He just finished feeding.

In these modern times, vampires with Edward's title and rank did not need to hunt anymore. Cain - the most ancient vampire of all times, in fact, Edward's sire, the one who blooded him - took care of his thirst. A steady supply of blood, packed in plastic bags, arrived at his manor every two weeks.

Edward found this blood to be less tasty as it usually was when it came directly from a victim. The struggle, straining, also felt nice, especially as it melted away as his arms held them gently in place, and his venom got to work, weakening the mortals and stopping them from fighting back; sending them to euphoria shortly after.

But in the past few weeks, he had taken a liking to bagged blood, especially because he didn't want to frighten his new little wife too much. Thus, he drank his blood from crystal goblets. Warming it up first in the microwave - wonderful what technology came to, it always surprised Edward -, he could pretend he was sipping some good quality wine.

Except this drink had him completely relaxed in his armchair, as consuming a human being's blood caused him pleasure, too. He hummed as he finished it, placing the goblet beside him on a small table, closing his eyes and giving himself to pure bliss.

He heard her move; she became comfortable around him enough that he had told her the truth of what he was, and she didn't flee the room anymore whenever he brought in a goblet of blood to consume it in one of his many living rooms. It was progress. Small, meaningful progress.

Edward smiled, still with closed eyes, when he felt her lean so close. Then, something touched the corner of his lips. He opened his eyes and looked in her face, searching for something in silence.

She cleaned the blood off of his lips with a kerchief. He hadn't been a messy eater in thousands of years, but drinking from a goblet required more practise, it seemed. He smiled at that.

"Thank you, my love", he murmured softly.

[gurugirl]

The Queen's Secret Chapter 5*

Summary: Queen Y/n and Prince Harry have a quick rendezvous at his house to make up for the session that was cut short. This is a just a filler chapter - it's all SMUT.

Warning: Smut, some angsty thoughts

The Queen's Secret Masterlist

Chapter 4*

Chapter 5*

She could feel his need. The way his hands softly, and then roughly gripped and squeezed and roamed over her arms, her waist, her neck, her back, fingers in her hair - everywhere he could reach. His warm mouth was needy, smothering hers and removing the breath from her lungs.

She hadn’t expected to be greeted by him like this. She assumed a polite offer of a beverage, maybe some flirty banter, a few longing glances. A discussion about what they were doing but skirting the real issue. And then perhaps a soft kiss to start things off.

But Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about the queen since after their first session and today’s session was cut far too short for Harry’s taste. His sensitive soul needed to be shared with someone and it had been far too long since someone wanted it. Gertrude had grown bored of him long ago and she no longer enjoyed being loving and slow and savoring of intimacy. She liked sex on their regularly scheduled intervals, but it was quick and lacked the affection Harry had long stopped begging her for because he was tired of the rejection.

So he turned his suppressed affections onto the queen and when she opened herself to him and returned the need, his soul found a breath of relief and latched on. It was a surprise to her the way he pounced on her as soon as he saw her. He locked the door without removing his mouth form hers and then put his missing hand back onto her face, holding her head close to him.

Harry was dressed very casually in his home, but so was she. She hadn’t seen the Prince in sweats and a t-shirt before but this was a welcome sight.

Y/n slid her hands up the back of his shirt and softly scratched at his skin. She didn’t want to make marks on his back but she wanted him to feel it. His broad back was covering her frame and everything about him surrounded her.

He moved a hand down to one of her thighs and lifted her softly to hitch it over his hip, he needed to get in closer to her. Y/n happily let herself be adjusted to his liking and he kept his hand at her thigh to hold her in place. Harry pressed himself into her center and they both gasped at the feel of warmth between them.

This wasn’t how they were supposed to act around one another. This was forbidden. Their need and desperation for closeness and touch and feelings had won out over their better sense. But neither cared anymore. They’d only just begun this sordid deal and now it was their Garden of Eden. A secret place to dip their toes into, to get the fix of intimacy and pleasure they weren’t getting anywhere else.

Harry rutted into Y/n again and this time he spoke, his nose still brushing against her, “I’m sorry. I swear that I was going to be a gentleman and invite you in for tea and then talk a little but I… how long do we have?” He backed away a bit to see her face, but kept her body pressed into the wall firmly. His clear green eyes were darkened with his pupils and spoke of lust and need.

The Queen needed a moment. She was taken by him. Her breath was still caught in her throat and body was trembling already. She swallowed as she took Harry’s appearance in. The way he looked at her was enough for her to bend to him in whatever he wanted. How long did she have? She hadn’t made a plan. She couldn’t be gone all night or the king would wonder where she was.

“Maybe two hours? I can’t stay all night. But maybe we could arrange for that another night, if you wanted.” She wanted to stay all night. To know what it would be like to have him until the morning. To sleep and wake with him next to her.

Harry dropped his mouth back down to the Queen’s. Two hours was perfect for now. He’d make good use of their time. When Harry stepped back he kept the Queen’s hand in his and he lifted her knuckles to his mouth and gave her hand a soft peck.

“Let’s go to my bed. I want to make our time together count.”

The master suite appeared to have been readied for their encounter. A few candles were lit, the bed was turned down, there was a tray with water and wine and some glasses, dimmed light. Harry was a true romantic. He’d thought of her when he was preparing the room. It wasn’t much, but it was more than the Queen had gotten from her own husband.

Harry pushed the door closed and grasped Y/n’s hips, pressing his forehead to hers, “Would you like a drink? Should we sit and talk first? What do you want, Y/n?”

The Queen held onto Harry’s sturdy sides and bumped her nose toward his, “I just want you, Harry.”

And that was true. She didn’t need a drink or chit chat in that moment, but she did think they needed to talk. Perhaps after. The kiss he’d given her as soon as he saw her at his front door was quite enough to tilt her opinion in favor of action at the moment. Harry was happy to oblige. His body was aching for her.

The Prince walked them to his bed, with Y/n moving backwards, and The Queen sat down and moved herself up toward his headboard. He removed his shirt and his sweatpants before climbing onto the bed and when he got to her he placed his hands into the band of her sweatpants, “Mmm… these are so soft, my Queen. Is this cashmere?” His grin was playful as he looked down at her pants and then back into her eyes. She nodded. His grin widened as he began slipping them off her hips and down her legs, “Of course the Queen wears a cashmere jumper set. Only the best fabric should be placed on this body.” He kept his gaze on hers as he brought her ankle up to his mouth and kissed, slowly moving up her leg, his mouth pecking warm kisses up to her knees and then onto the other leg. Y/n quickly rid herself of her top as Harry worked his mouth over her limbs. When he got to her inner thigh the Queen was downright dripping into her lacy panties. His lips were masterful on her skin and she let out shallow breaths as his lips drew near to her center.

He licked at the edge of where her inner thigh meets just next to her wetness, and then to the other side. He kept his tongue skimming just around her sweet spot and Y/n sighed in pleasure. She loved the build and the attention.

Harry continued to move his eyes up to the Queen to watch her reaction. He loved seeing her arch her back and part her wet lips. He slid a hand up to her tummy, spreading his palm over her belly button as he continued slowly licking all around the fabric crotch of her panties, but never directly on it. They had two hours, which wasn’t all night, but he knew it was plenty of time so he could go slow and bring her to the edge the way he preferred.

When Y/n groaned in impatience Harry chuckled and began to pull at her panties so they could be free of them, “Ruined. These’ll need to be washed. Certainly aren’t able to wear them home, Y/n.” He watched as her arousal caught between her labia and the lace fabric of the panties before pulling them over her thighs and off her legs completely.

When Harry lowered himself back over Y/n’s pretty pussy, the Queen’s hands grasped the blankets under her and then she brought one hand down to the thick curls on the Prince’s head. She met his gaze and saw his tongue jut out at that moment, finally gliding his tongue over her folds and upward toward her clit. She dropped her mouth wider, if that were possible, and moaned at the vision.

Harry began consuming her cunt with wide strokes of his tongue upward toward her clit at each pass. He’d pause and pay extra attention to her clit on contact and then go back to lapping upward. Each pause at her clit, whether he’d flick his tongue around or suck it into his mouth, had the Queen moaning his name.

The taste of her pussy was delicate and lightly tangy, but mostly sweet. As he continued sucking and teasing her he brought both arms under her thighs and held her well in place. She was forced flat into the bed so she could not thrust her hips upward anymore under his solid hold.

The Queen loved how sturdy Harry was as well. His well-built arms holding her in place and the way he pressed her down so firmly was sending chills up her spine. He was amazingly strong and well-founded. The way his muscular thighs flexed and his back muscles stretched and tightened when he held her down was so achingly sexy to her that she swooned over his image between her thighs this way. She’d always have this picture in her mind of him.

Harry moaned into her pussy and closed his eyes when he felt her wetness increase further. She was turned on and her soft panting indicated a good sign. He lifted his head up an inch, his lips still feathering over her labia and spoke, “Taste so good, Queen. Dreamt of the way you squirm under me when I eat your cunt.”

Y/n could feel his lips bracket her pussy again in a full-on hungry display. He sucked her clit into his mouth and the slurping noises were divine. He removed an arm from under her thigh and promptly circled his fingertips at her entrance before pushing three thick fingers past her opening and curling them upward to reach her little honey spot. A deep moan bolted from the Queen’s throat and she keened when he began pumping his fingers and sucking at her clit at the same time.

Harry didn’t let up his rhythm. He felt her begin to wobble and shake under him and her moaning became louder and louder every moment she got closer to her orgasm. This was exactly what he wanted. Y/n to moan his name and be as loud as she needed to be. He reveled in the sounds coming from her body and from her lips. His ego was fed fully when she started to tip and gushed with her orgasm.

He held her down with one arm as he continued lapping at her, prolonging her pleasure from the fingers he fucked into her and the way his lips worked over the rest. Her high-pitched breaths and moans became yelps as she began feeling overstimulated, but Harry didn’t let up. She tried pushing at his hair and her small laugh turned into another moan and a whine as she tried closing her thighs.

The Prince removed his fingers from her and returned his arm back to her thigh to keep her still, and spread open for him. He kept lapping at her but he eventually slowed down as he felt Y/n calm and relax under him. The Queen was at his mercy, so she gave in to the indulgence he was forcing on her.

“Harry… Haarr… please…” she whined when he didn’t let up. Soon, the tickle and overstimulation of his tongue and lips started to twist itself into a second layer of sensuality through Y/n’s insides, making her feel gooey and pliant again.

“I know, Y/n. Let me take care of you. One more for me, baby.” He put his mouth squarely back over her wetness and took his time with gentle strokes of his tongue. He lazily circled over her clit, not going too heavy on the pressure, he wanted her next orgasm to be soft and floaty to get her ready for what was to come.

The Queen relented and her second orgasm was deeply lovely and comforting. Her breaths were hitched and then she went silent, jaw dropped when it overcame her. Harry released one of her legs and smoothed a hand up her tummy and palmed at her tit. The grip she had on his hair was uncompromising. She wasn’t letting go easy. Harry smirked into her pussy and then chuckled as he lifted his eyes up to his Queen, a beautiful mess above him. She had the slightest sheen of sweat over her torso and her pussy was absolutely sodden. Harry determined he’d need to wash the comforter based on the how wet it was below her. Certainly, he’d leave it be for the few more days he had until Gertrude came home. He’d like to smell her on his sheets and his bed for the entire week.

Slowly Y/n slid her fingers out of his curls and opened her eyes. Harry sat up between her legs and massaged her thighs. He ran his gaze over her face and her beautiful body and down to her swollen cunt that he’d just taken care of.

“Harry, you’re… so good at that. My god.” She was still panting and her chest was violently rising and falling as she caught her breath.

Harry pressed over his ruddy tipped cock and then squeezed himself as he smirked at Y/n, “Ya think so? Keep complimenting me like that and I’m gonna go down on you again.”

The Queen chuckled and sat up, “I’d like to go down on you now, Harry. Return the favor…” Harry’s lips cut her off as soon as she spoke of returning favors.

Harry was feeling appreciative and enlivened by the Queen. She was a good match for him. In bed at least. Her willingness to suck him off and allow him to eat her out, the way she wanted him to enjoy everything as much as he wanted her to… he couldn’t stop the emotions that made his heart pound and his tummy sizzle for Y/n. He didn’t want to think of her like a new toy, but it was hard not to get so overly electrified by her sexual appetite. He hadn’t been so wound up about a woman in a long time and the pang of guilt he felt regarding Gertrude and his children, he’d deal with later as his lips smoothed over the Queen’s.

And she could taste herself on him. She loved it because it meant he had just done something that she’d been longing for. Harry was motivated and it reawakened her taste for all the bonuses that went with sex. She’d been disappointed with the king but it hadn’t bothered her all that much. Until she experienced Harry. And this was trouble for the new lovers. Both of them were suffering with lackluster sex lives outside of one another. They both had a deep need for love making and sensuality that wasn’t answered in their marriages.

The Queen got to her knees as she continued allowing the Prince to kiss her lips and sip at her tongue. Harry got to his knees as well so they were mimicking each other’s stance. Her hands journeyed down from his strong shoulders to over his pecs and then continued south to where his happy trail began, soft but firm under the extra bit of flesh that had accumulated from Harry’s large appetite. When her hand grazed the thick hair that surrounded his large dick like a crown displaying royalty, Harry groaned and stopped his lips from working over hers for a moment as he pressed their foreheads together. Their noses were nudged together and Harry flattened his hands around the back of Y/n’s upper thighs before moving them upward to hold onto her soft bum. He pulled her center in towards his as her hand finally made contact with this thick shaft. He could feel her own sparse hair drag over his cock when he pulled her closer. Her wet labia kissed over the ridge of him, wetting him lightly.

He moved his hands up to her waste and titled his head to kiss at her lips again. The soft kisses were an invitation, to do what she wanted. She was being given permission to make the next move.

The Queen cupped at Harry’s cock and gently stroked him and he lowered his lips to her neck, licking over her sensitive pulse point. She rutted her hips to him and continued pumping gently and Harry brought his hands around to her breasts. He placed them into his large palms and massaged before focusing on the nipples and softly pinching the hardened nubs. Y/n gasped at the feel of his lips on her neck and his fingers pinching at her nipples. She was nearly ready to be ravished by him again. Wanted to feel him enter her and poke deep inside of her body. But first she wanted to have him in his mouth.

She pushed at his chest with a tap so he’d sit back onto his bottom. Harry quickly got into position, his arms outstretched behind him, legs spread for her to cozy in and take him however she wanted. He watched as she held onto his knees for leverage and lowered herself further over him. She looked up at him with her eyes, keeping her head tilted down so her mouth brushed over his tip and then she kissed it. Once, and then twice and jutted her tongue out to give a tiny lick. Harry was already heaving breaths. He knew what was about to come. Y/n’s mouth on his cock was holy. He watched her purse her lips and spit over his tip and then grabbing him from the top she pulled her saliva down his lengthy shaft. He could feel the air from the room delicately dance on his cock now that he was wetted with her saliva. It was cool and goosebumps jumped out on his thighs.

When Y/n saw his goosebumps she waited no longer to put him into her mouth. She knew what she must do. What she wanted to do.

Harry moaned and then gulped down the spit that had gathered when he began to salivate over the spectacle. Y/n slowly moved down on him. He was thick and long and she needed to get her bearings with him. She opened her mouth as wide as she could sucked him in, slowly going down further then back up to his glans. She gently stroked her tongue over his sensitive frenulum and then, taking a deep breath, lowered down again to get him further.

She kept a hand at his base and her lips over him were watering down his shaft so he was wet all the way to his dark pubic hair from her saliva. She bobbed and she tried getting him further and further as she sucked and flattened her tongue along the thick dorsal vein that ran underneath. Harry was wetly gasping and he put a hand into the Queen’s hair, gently moving the strands away so he could watch the scene with adoring eyes.

When she felt him move her hair aside she looked back up to him and he groaned at the eye contact and the way her lips were pink and wet and sinking over him. “Mmm… Y/n… your mouth feels so good. Don’t know how I can ever go back to not having this from you again when we’re done.”

That was the elephant in the room, which Harry didn’t mean to bring up but his state of mind couldn’t help but speak it. They knew their time together had an expiration date. It would be too risky to continue this after she became pregnant. Which, she knew she would be soon. If not this round, probably by the next. There was no way this man wasn’t fertile and she knew she was. It would happen soon, too soon for her liking. Though, the Queen was excited to be pregnant and have a child.

She continued her dutiful sucking and licking and Harry moaned her name into the room and threw his head back when he felt that warm ache begin to liven up his groin. He wanted to come inside of her, though. The feel of her pussy around him was not like anything else and he wanted it. So, he sat up and grasped onto her hair to gently pull at her, “I want to fuck you. I’m gonna come if you keep that up but I wanted to come inside your pussy if you want that too.”

The Queen grinned and nodded. Her face was a little damp and her lips puffy and pink from her diligent work on his cock. She sat up to her knees and Harry pulled her down onto him so she was laying over him, their centers pressed together. She was still as wet as she could ever be. Having him in her mouth and listening to his moans and tasting his creamy pre-come was exciting and arousing.

Harry pulled her down by the back of her neck and forced his mouth to hers in a hot and wet kiss. Y/n spread her legs to straddle his hips and she angled herself so her labia would smooth over the large vein under his shaft. She shifted slowly up and down for a bit as their lips meshed and locked together in perfect pace.

Then the Queen lifted herself up a little and reached down between them to put his wide head at her hole. They gazed at one another as she sank over his tip and she gasped at the stretch and the pop of his initial entry. Once his cock was just past her opening it was easy going from there. She moved down and encased him with her wet walls, wrapping him up in a tight, warm enclosure.

Harry put his hands over her ass and pressed her as he moved her up and down over him. Her knees were in the mattress on either side of his hips and her clit was gently rubbed at each pass. She placed her palms on his pecs and began moving herself on him as Harry assisted with his hands over her. Now the sounds of her slick walls around him were evident and their gasps and moans were soft and quiet at first.

“You… Harry… that’s it. Oh my god.” Her words wouldn’t make much sense outside of the bedroom they were in, but to Harry they made perfect sense. He knew he was parting her walls, spreading her open and reaching deep inside of her. He knew she felt good and it made him feel good.

She slid up and down as far as she could fit him, until his balls were tucked up to her ass. Her hips rolling downward at each stroke over him.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Y/n. Milk me, baby.” Harry groaned into the room. He was going to explode. He was already being bumped toward his peak. He clenched his jaw to stave off coming too fast.

So she did. She went a bit faster and the cock inside of her hit everything, everywhere. Their bodies, where their centers met, were wet, slick, and sticky. The smell in room around them was nothing but sex and heat.

Harry’s eyes were squeezed closed and his face was twisted as he felt the Queen clench and hamper down over him when she began to release. He wanted to hold out a little longer. Wanted to fuck her in one more position and make her come once more for him. Give her a really good ending. Her moans were load and her vision went white. Her body rushed with heat and the small gush of her release dripped down over Harry and onto his ball sack. It was erotic and carnal. The mess between them was something Harry loved during sex. He loved getting a little dirty, didn’t mind the cleanup. The wetness and the smell and the sweat were all a badge of honor for him.  

The Queen collapsed onto Harry’s chest when she was done coming and her lungs were exhausted. She was warm and soft over him. He rubbed his hands over her back and she felt him twitch inside of her. He was still solid and long. He’d not yet come.

She pushed herself up and looked down at the Prince with confusion, “You didn’t come?”

Harry shook his head, “Want to fuck you from behind if that’s okay. Make you come once more. Got one more for me?” He raised his brows at the last sentence.

At that very moment, Y/n couldn’t imagine having one more orgasm dragged from her body. But she was happy to let him fuck her in whatever way he wanted. She wanted his come.

“I can try. But I want you to fill me up, Harry. Even if I can’t come again.” She smiled at him.

She moved her leg off him and leaned back as Harry sat up and gently took her face in his hands and pulled her in for some more kisses. She would not get tired of all the sweet kisses and touches Harry continued to bless her with throughout their baby-making-sessions.

He lapped at her lips and she opened up. His soft lips would kill her. There was no one who could come close to kissing her this way. It was ethereal. He was ethereal.

He lowered his mouth to her left breast and did that thing she loved so much where he licked and gently suckled all around before focusing on her pebbled teat. He gave the smallest nibble and then flicked his tongue over it to soothe before turning to her right breast and repeated the action. Y/n put her hands into his hair and watched as his pink lips sucked and swathed over her tender skin.  

When he sat up the look in his eyes was dark and marked a man ready to devour. She quickly turned herself and lowered her palms to the bed and spread her thighs for him to arrange her however he liked.

He grabbed her hips and rubbed over her bum softly, watching as her flesh indented with his fingers. God what he wouldn’t give to hang onto her with a bit of a grip and watch as small bruises form, marking her up with his fingertips so she could see them as a reminder of what they’d done in secret. But he couldn’t. Despite his need to claim her in some way, she wasn’t his. Would never be.

He leaned over her back and moved his hands from her ass up to her low back and to the plane of her upper back and her spine. She could feel him pressed against her bum as his lips swept over the shell of her ear. His deep, raspy drawl in her ear made her skin prickle with lust, “Want to just bite into your beautiful bottom. Can I give you a quick spank. I won’t leave any marks. I’m just so… God your ass is so beautiful.”

The Queen bit her lip and turned a bit, prompting Harry’s nose to press into the inner notch of her ear, “Yes. Give me one nice swat to each cheek so it stings. Shouldn’t leave a mark.”

Harry rocked his hips down once to push his cock into the spread of her cheeks before he leaned back, kneading over her for good measure and then took his right hand and landed his palm square on to her right cheek first. She jumped and let out a soft chuckle as he did it again to her left cheek. Her moan came out in a wet garble. Okay, now she was ready again. She was sure he could give her another orgasm again after this bit of respite he provided her pussy.

The Queen felt the Prince spreading her cheeks and she closed her eyes, readying herself for penetration when she felt his wet mouth on her from behind. He moaned into her folds and then licked. She spread her thighs a little more on instinct so he could have easier admission to all her parts. When he licked up toward her bum hole she popped her eyes open and turned to see him. He had his hands over her cheeks, parting them for his mouth as he licked over her and up again over her anus. He caught her gaze and then sat up with a smirk.

“Taste so good everywhere. I couldn’t help myself.” He spoke as he dragged a finger back over her tightest hole and she squirmed under the touch and the way he looked at her. He licked his lips and grasped his base, dragging himself up and down her slick crease. She was wet all along her inner thighs and her ass. She was so aroused there was denying the proof.

When Y/n turned back around she stuffed her face into the blankets below her which popped the arch of her back and Harry’s jaw dropped at her submissive pose. He gently attached his tip to her opening and pushed just the head in and then brought himself back out. He loved watching himself disappear inside of her and he wanted to really get a good look from his position. Her holes were both on display for him as he spread her open with his head and then pulled out with a small slush sound, thanks to how wet she was.

The Queen wiggled a little, needing him to wreck her and so he took note of her need and pushed in a little further, watching as her lips spread apart for his thick cock. He pushed in nearly all the way and then watched himself back out little by little with his dick shiny and slick. Inward he thrusted and then slowly pulled out almost all the way. His languid strokes were on purpose. She could feel every single inch as he pushed in and pulled out. The way her body allowed room for him, parted for him and how he filled her up so completely was worth the price of admission. That price being a possible broken heart or a longing that she’d never be able to sate once their time was up.

Harry’s thoughts were similar. He wanted her to really feel him, know him, desire him. He wanted to feel good in and around her. He wanted her cravings and her time and her body, but their relationship wasn’t meant to be endured for longer than necessary. But in the meantime, they both pushed those dwelling thoughts back and focused on their now together.

Harry began at a hungrier pace when he needed to feel more of her on him. The patting and slapping noises that fell from between their bodies were only punctuated by the wet sound of arousal that Harry’s cock glided through. Y/n’s body was on fire and she grunted at each thud of his hips into her. She whimpered his name and curled her toes when he dug in deeper and faster. His hands on her hips were meant to hold her still but she was able to fuck herself back onto him, needing more, more…

Harry choked out a gasp and watched his cock being fucked by her when she reamed herself back onto him, her breaths being knocked from her body as he impaled her with a sturdy force.

“Creaming all over me, this fertile pussy is begging to be bred. Want my babies, Y/n? Hmm?” He was keening and tipping fast again. He wanted to give it to her one more time. Get her to burst over her cock and feel her squeezing and pulsating around him as he filled her up and poured all that he had into her cunt to get her knocked up.

She moaned loudly into the air, a partial yes, but difficult to make out. She was being whacked into rather vigorously so a sentence was out of the question, and even a single word was not likely to be uttered properly. But Harry wanted to hear her and he also needed to slow his impending release so he slowed his cadence to a still vigorous but reasonable pace.

“Tell me, Queen. Whose babies will you have? Whose cock do you want inside of you every night? Whose cock do you want to come all over?” Harry’s balls were tightening up, a telltale sign of what was about to happen. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath and tried not to look down to where he was connected with her.

“You. Oh God! Just you, Prince. You Harry. Your babies, your cock. You!” She was trembling and she knew she was close. She couldn’t believe the speed at which he was able to bring her to orgasm. But she needed just one more thing to push her over the edge. She moved a hand between her legs and began slushing her arousal over her clit and the tips of her fingers and nails were delicately swathing over Harry’s balls. When he felt her fingers he looked down to realize she was quickly swiping back and forth over her clit and he panted deeply, causing a small snort to fall from him. He was so close. His sperm had to have been frothing, about to overflow up his cock and into his lover’s cunt. He grunted as he tamped down the cream about to exit his urethra as his muscles started to contract around his reproductive organ.

The Queen moaned loudly and pathetically as she felt his large organ twitching inside of her and his grip on her hips tightened. She wondered if he’d bruise her and if he did she’d need to worry about it later, because her orgasm suddenly spilled onto Harry’s cock as she bit down on the comforter under her face. She cried and her ears rang as Harry coughed out a moan and finally allowed himself to release inside of his Queen. He fucked his come into her as he felt her squeeze around him in soft pulses. He forced his eyes to stay opened to watch her cunt being pumped into. She milked every last drop of his sperm out of his cock, ejaculating into her in big spurts that filled her to the brim.

There was no denying their very intimate connection in the bed. They were well matched and burned for one another in a way they shouldn’t. And while this was all a physical manifestation of a deeper need they were both consumed by, it was easy to see how this could become sentimental and personal on a different level.

With both bodies exhausted and sweat on every crevice of their bodies, Harry slowly pulled out of his beautiful lover and spread her again to watch the come slowly ooze out of her. He thumbed over the spot and pushed into her and spread it up toward her swollen clit. He wanted to cover her in his come. It was some primal need that was ridiculous but the image had made him almost harden up again. Maybe she’d let him come on her body one of these days they had together. Instead of inside of her. Maybe the one time he doesn’t come inside of her is the moment she would be most fertile and they could do this weeklong affair once again. He’d like to do this with her again. And again. If she gets pregnant too quickly, it will all be over for them too fast.

Y/n sat back and hummed in contentment, “I need a shower before I head back. Is that okay?” She turned to look at Harry knelt behind her.

He nodded, “Of course. I’ll join you.”

The shower was over too fast. Harry helped her clean her back and cheeks and he did notice the very beginnings of bruises from where he’d held on too tightly as he started to come. He kissed over the bruises and held her hips and then kissed the back of her shoulder, “I’ve accidentally bruised your hips. I’m sorry. Maybe just think of something to tell the king or try not to let him see you.”

Harry preferred the latter. He’d prefer to be the only one to see her naked. He didn’t like that the King got to see her naked whenever he pleased.

“Edgar will be difficult. He’s been hounding me today. I don’t know what’s gotten into him but I think he’s a little jealous. I haven’t given him reason to be but, he just… I don’t know. I’ll be careful. I think it was worth it.” She smiled softly at her handsome prince.

When the Queen slipped away from his house and back to the castle she checked her phone and realized she’d missed many calls and had a few texts from Edgar. She rolled her eyes but the last text message he sent her 45 minutes prior had her hackles raised.

From Edgar: If you’re at the Styles’ home I will find out.

Part 6

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[grantspectortrash]

Bad To The Bone

pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Halloween night, King Steve on the cusp of Good Steve, and a shared love for The Karate Kid. Flirting that you'd never admit to, a party that you'll never forget.

word count: 3.2K

A/N: aha honestly? I just wanted to combine my love for Steve Harrington, Cobra Kai/Karate Kid and Halloween all into one place. Hope you enjoy! Requests are open btw <3

-

It's Halloween 1984 and somebody is dressed as a skeleton.

But not any old skeleton - they're dressed up as Johnny Lawrence's skeleton, headphones around his neck and all, completely identical to the costume in The Karate Kid.

You wonder how long it took them to create it, and how many times they went to the cinema in order to memorise it down to the very last thread.

You can't see their face, but they're on the dancefloor and they are killing it - no Halloween pun intended.

Tina is the one throwing the party, claiming that she is the 'ghostess with the mostest'. Her house is large enough to host all of your classmates and more. You're pretty sure that there's some underage kids hanging out and drinking in her backyard, but that isn't your problem.

And, while you take in the scenery and stand in Tina's kitchen, you contemplate why you ever thought dressing up as Mr Miyagi was a good idea - bald cap and all.

Robin, your best friend in the entire world, had bailed on you this Halloween. Sure, maybe she couldn't get out of going to her cousin's wedding, but why did it have to be the same weekend as Halloween? The pair of you were always Batman and Robin, and surprisingly you were always Robin. That joke never got old, not to you at least.

Most girls, if not all, at the party had gone for the sexy side of Halloween dress-up. Sexy ghosts, sexy nuns, Princess Leia in her golden bikini. One very specific, very skimpy, sexy E.T. who had lights glowing from her boobs instead of her finger.

You think it's the first time you've seen an alien that wants to get probed. Alas, you digress.

The Johnny Lawrence poser is dancing as '(Don't Fear) The Reaper' is playing from the large speakers that Tina has borrowed from her boyfriend Chris.

Although you're not very close to Tina, you get the urge to tell her that while she's dancing with her friends, Chris is making out with Stacey in the downstairs bathroom behind you.

Each time their hankering bodies collide with the bathroom door, you take one step further into the kitchen and one step further away from whatever is going on inside that bathroom. You're grateful the music covers their noises.

Nobody has spoken to you in about twenty minutes, and the only conversation you did have was when someone, clearly already drunk and dressed like Danny Zuko yelled "Wax on, wax off!" in your face as he grabbed yet another beer bottle from the kitchen counter.

You had wondered if he had a Sandy to pair up with, but when he sauntered back into the crowd you saw the mass of T-Birds waiting for him.

Hiding out in the kitchen has it's privileges. You had already swiped two bottles of the cheep beer yourself, and now you nurse the second by taking tiny sips at regular intervals and clutching the bottle tightly just so that you have something to do with your hands.

The song ends and a new one starts, and you watch as the skeleton gestures to some of the people he's with - you don't recognise any of them.

His thumb jabs over to the direction of the kitchen and soon he's snaking through the throng of costumed people on the dancefloor, all drunk or high to a varying degree.

As he gets closer you wonder if he'll see you. You wonder if you know him. You still can't see his face; the makeup is deceiving and his hair is hidden by the hood of the costume.

The skeleton-clad boy moves to the other end of the kitchen, his back to you. He grabs a bottle from the counter and absentmindedly cracks the cap off with his teeth. It's an act you're sure a dentist wouldn't approve of, but it comes across as quite an impressive act, and a slightly attractive thing to do.

He pulls the cap from his mouth and flicks it onto the counter. It's only then that he takes in what's been going on in the kitchen.

There's a guy who's been stood over the punch bowl for the last ten minutes, tipping in various bottles of spirits and mixers and meticulously stirring it, all while dressed as a baseball player.

A couple, dressed as Fred and Daphne from the Scooby gang, have been arguing just as long. Their hushed tones are hidden by the music, but whatever is going on neither of them are happy about.

And then there's you. And the skeleton boy can see that.

He turn towards you fully, grinning, and it's only then that you wish you hadn't been staring at him all night. You wish you hadn't created an idea of who he might be in your head. Because he smiles and it's unmistakeable. It's pretty and popular and all the girls love it.

You have to stop yourself from cursing.

"Oh shit, Mr Miyagi. Better stay away from you." He takes a sip from his beer and leans casually on the counter beside you.

He is no longer skeleton boy, the guy with the bad dance moves and the good taste in movies.

He's Steve Harrington. King Steve. Douchebag of all douchebags. And your crush since about eighth grade, not that you'd admit that to yourself. Or him.

And sure, the crush faded in and out, because it was never going to be reciprocated, and honestly you didn't care.

But tonight he looked like Johnny Lawrence, and you had to keep reminding yourself who he really was under his clothes and all of that makeup.

A bully. A rich boy. A reminder of why you didn't need a guy in your life.

And yet, even after all your reminding, when he's dressed as Johnny Lawrence he's almost someone else. Almost the guy you created in your head.

"Yeah, one wrong move and you're dead, Harrington." You reply, rolling your eyes and taking a sip of beer for good measure.

Steve brings his own bottle to his lips, and laughs.

"It's Y/N, right? We have maths together." He asks, and you're surprised he even remembers your name let alone the classes you have together.

You nod.

Steve smiles then, almost proud of himself for remembering, and it's difficult to picture his real face under all the makeup - all you can see is Johnny Lawrence and it's beginning to become a little flustering. No, frustrating. Yeah, that's what you mean. Frustrating.

He says something just as the music gets cranked up. 'The Monster Mash' is playing at a deafening volume, no doubt something the neighbours won't appreciate, along with the smoking and yelling and all the other noises omitting from the house.

You look over at the dancefloor to notice Tina is gone - you hope she's not looking for her cheating, scumbag boyfriend. She's better without.

You turn back to Steve, "Huh?" You have to practically yell to be heard.

Steve repeats whatever he said, only for you to not hear him again. You shake your head.

This time, Steve rolls his eyes. Then, he's ducking his head so it's close to yours and his lips are against your ear. His breath is warm and it sends a spark straight down your spine.

"I said, only hot chicks can pull off a bald cap, I'm impressed."

He pulls away and suddenly the heat isn't from his breath, it's across your cheeks and burning the tops of your ears.

You don't want to admit to yourself that it's because of Steve fucking Harrington, so you blame it on the fact he looks like Cobra Kai's bad boy.

"I - uh, umm..." It very quickly seems like you can't find your voice. You swallow hard, hoping to clear the lump in your throat. You don't know what to say.

And Steve's loving every second of it. There's a smug look on his face, and undeniable sparkle in his brown eyes.

You're about to yell at him. Steel yourself and tell him what's what, when the music gets cut.

Everybody turns to the speaker, including you and Steve. Whatever moment the two of you shared passes. Tina's ripped the cord, and she's standing there in her cheerleading outfit, shaking a pom aggressively.

"Where's Chris?"

As soon as she yells his name, Stacey storms out of the bathroom behind you. Her hair is a mess and her identical cheerleading outfit is ripped. A lipstick stain smears the right side of her face.

"You said you'd broken up!" She's marches across the kitchen and Steve pulls you close to him so that you're out of the girl’s way.

Seconds later, Chris appears. His trousers by his ankles and lipstick all over his face and exposed chest. A line of kisses trail all the way down to his boxers.

"Stacey! Tina!" He stumbles across the kitchen, making his way behind you. Once he passes, you push yourself away from Steve, aware of how close the pair of you were.

The two girls start yelling, moving towards the direction of the front door as they start grappling each other. Tina has Stacey by the hair, while Stacey is trying to shove Tina's pom down her throat. Chris hauls ass behind them, yelling apologies that neither of the girls are paying attention to.

They leave through the front door, and the yelling becomes fainter as they move across the lawn. Someone dressed as a ghost pulls the front door shut, and plugs the speaker back in. The music commences, quieter this time.

"Holy hell." You shake your head and finish your second beer of the night. The alcohol hasn't affected you yet, and it's making you feel left out. Everyone here seems even a little bit tipsy. Apart from you. And, well, maybe Steve too.

"Yikes. That’s depressing." Steve replies, and without asking, leans behind him to grab you another bottle. He does the teeth thing again with the cap and you laugh.

"That's a very Johnny Lawrence move, you know."

That earns a grin from Steve, his real teeth showing instead of the fake skeleton teeth painted on his skin. "What can I say? I'm bad to the bone."

You try to hold in the laughter. For someone who was meant to be cool and popular, Steve was proving to be quite corny.

You take a risk by asking, "Talking of bad boys, why aren't you flooded with your usual admiring fans tonight?” Then you carry on, just to add the illusion of disinterest, “And Tommy?”

Then, you take a long sip of your third beer until the embarrassment of asking goes away. You nearly drain the bottle.

"Well," Steve says, glancing over to the masses of dancing girls who are all dressed up like sexy cavewomen. The actual cheerleading squad.

"They found out I was dating Nancy Wheeler, and I had to stop basketball practice to get my grades up. All of which apparently made me lame. And then Nancy dumped me, yesterday actually. So turns out I'm not as cool as I once was."

He reaches out to touch the fake Mr Miyagi beard stuck to your chin. You slap his hand away, with no real heat behind the act.

"Hence why you're talking to me." You laugh, a little bit of the alcohol taking effect now. Your insides feel warm and you're not worried if your comment seems insensitive. Steve doesn't seem to mind.

And the fall of King Steve is almost intriguing to you. He was funny. And had good take in films. And was talking to you like he actually cared.

"Yeah. Right. Hence why I'm talking to you." Steve's voice is full of sarcasm. But, he's smiling. A real genuine smile that makes you think that maybe Steve Harrington isn't so bad. Maybe.

His clinks his beer bottle with yours then, and tips his head up to take a long swig from his bottle. You watch as his Adam's Apple bobs.

You take a sip after he takes his, and he watches as you do. Some impulse draws him closer to you, and he pulls the bald-cap away from your head. You take the bottle away from your lips and take your natural hair out of its hairband. It falls roughly, kind of sweaty and bobby-pinned in place, but Steve nods anyway.

"Much better." He says, and winks.

It's in that moment that you think something passes between the pair of you. Something special, something that's yours. A strange acknowledgement of something that's just begun.

But hey, maybe it's just the alcohol talking.

You pull the fake beard away from your face and set down the third empty beer bottle of the night. "Want to go outside?"

Steve nods.

Five minutes later you find yourself on a swing set with Steve beside you. The beer bottles and the music are forgotten. There's only a couple people outside, all appreciating the slightly quieter outdoors. Two guys are sharing a joint and are deep in conversation, but they're not in hearing distance.

Wherever the love-triangle of Stacey, Tina and Chris got to is a mystery, but you're glad the drama is nowhere near you.

Steve's pulled the skeleton hood off now, revealing tufts of messy brown hair. His heels are dug into the ground, and truth be told he's a little bit too tall for the set, but he swings slightly all the same.

The sky's pitch black but the tree above you has been bombarded with enough fairy lights to attract an entire moth family. The lights reflect in Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry about Nancy, by the way." You don't know what makes you say it, but the words come out of your mouth anyway.

"Thanks, Y/N. I think you're actually the first person who's actually said that. Everyone else is glad that we’re done."

There's a tinge of hurt in Steve's voice, and he won't meet your gaze.

"Are you glad you’re done?" You ask even though you can already guess the answer from the look on his face.

"Yes, and no. I don't know. She's in love with someone else. I have to respect that. Maybe what we had was love, maybe it wasn't. Whatever."

You know it shouldn't, but his comments gains a laugh from you, "King Steve respecting women, who would have thought it?"

Steve cracks a small smile, almost painful, and suddenly you feel bad.

"Sorry." You say, "That was in bad taste."

He looks at you then, all soft eyes and skeleton makeup. "No, it's okay. You're not wrong."

There's a brief silence between the two of you, and you watch as the couple dressed as Fred and Daphne - who were arguing the last time you saw them - are stepping out of the back door in tandem. The guy’s hands are on the girl’s ass, her's are in his hair. They're snogging at a rapid rate, and not even looking where they're going. They find a tree, and start making out against it. Their kissing noises are off-putting.

"Well at least now I'm single I don't have to be embarrassing like that." Steve laughs, but the act seems perfunctory. "Anyway."

He stops swinging and looks at you, scanning you quickly before smiling. He leans over to poke you on the knee. "What about you?"

You frown, "What about me?"

Your question gains a smirk, "You know. Are you dating anyone? What's up in the world of Y/N?"

"Oh, well, not much." Your hand comes to the back of your neck, suddenly feeling awkward and exposed. Your fingers itch to be holding another bottle of beer - where was that liquid courage when you needed it?

"I'm single. Very. Always. And it's fine, I guess. Yeah. I'm fine."

Under all his face-paint, Steve's left eyebrow quirks up at you, "You sure?" He's trying to hide a smile, and you move to lightly hit his foot with your own.

"Shut up, Harrington."

"No, come on. You must have thought about someone though. Like the prom's coming up soon, who would you ask?"

You groan, burying your face into your hands. Fuck sake.

Steve moves then, you can feel it more than see it. You peek through your fingers to see him crouched in front of you, his hands coming to rest on your knees. There's a warmth radiating off him, one that you can't ignore.

"Y/N, why're you hiding from me?" Steve's voice is barely a whisper. It gains another spark down your spine, one that circles back around your body and straight into your heart.

You were going to have so much explaining to do when Robin got home.

"You." The words come out of your mouth in a mumble, and you're still hiding behind your fingers. Steve moves them for you. You become very aware of his hands on yours, the way his fingers interlock with yours and rest between your knees. It seems easy. It seems right.

"What was that?" You can tell he's not trying to be mean. He's genuinely curious. His fingers slip out from yours and you end up squeezing your fists tight.

"I'd ask you. You know, the version of you that isn't a dick, anyway."

Steve smiles so hard to the point where he ends up looking kinda goofy, and ultimately, a little bit pleased too.

So, you do the only thing you can think of. You push him with your knees and it sends him landing on his ass.

He guffaws, “Damn, I was right. Gotta stay away from Mr Miyagi."

You stand up and offer him your hand; he takes it.

Steve brushes himself off before looking at you again. He notices the tint in your cheeks, definitely not just from the alcohol this time.

"Tell you what, considering that I'm not cool or a dick anymore, do you think you could handle being friends? Go from there?" There's a gentleness in Steve's voice that fully convinces you maybe King Steve is dead for good.

Maybe tonight, dressed as Johnny Lawrence, there's some sort of symbolism there. The last night of being a bad boy.

You nod, embarrassed and endeared all at the same time. "Sure. Cool. Works for me."

Steve sticks his hand out, cracking another smile, "I'm Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you."

You can't help but laugh, even if you do take his hand and accept the shake. It's almost like a deal. A secret between the two of you. And you have no idea how it happened.

"Hi, Steve. You know, for someone who's been popular for a long time, being a corny loser kind of suits you."

"I guess so. Perhaps hanging around with you has that effect."

You're both smiling, but you hit Steve in the stomach all the same. It leads to an all out Miyagi-Do vs Cobra Kai fight, although you're not really throwing your punches and Steve's totally letting you win. But this is a friendship you didn't know you needed. Hell, maybe is was going to be more than a friendship. And it seems wonderful - an unexpected treat on a Halloween night.

[tokusaatsus]

Hi! I really love your works and it's always fun and enjoying to read them! It's a shame that I didn't made it for the event reqs but i saw that regular reqs are open, if that's what you call them? XD Anyway, can I request for Kohaku, Mayoi, and Hiiro being a secret admirer to the reader? Thank you!

HOW THEY WOULD ACT AS A SECRET ADMIRER

ft. amagi hiiro, ayase mayoi, oukawa kohaku

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none (as of now)

In my opinion, Hiiro is too honest and straight-forward to be considered a ‘secret’ admirer. I feel like he wouldn’t see any reason to hide the fact that he is the one sending you the letters?

Since he wants you to see them and feel appreciated, he would probably think you’d like it better if you knew who your admirer was.

The only reason he doesn’t is because Aira assured him it would be more romantic that way. Out of the two of them, Aira is the more well-versed in pop culture, so Hiiro decides to take him at face value.

I am a firm believer in the idea that Hiiro unironically enjoys puns. So he probably sends you lovemail in that style. Little sticky notes with cute doodles and adorable puns pasted on your desk, or on your doorframe.

Like:

If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber ♡ or Are you a banana? Because I find you very a-peel-ing ♡

They’re small, usually mentioning food or animals, but they still manage to fluster you with their simplicity.

He places them at intervals–one in the morning, and one in the evening!

It’s especially sweet when you’re having a bad day and you just see these cute little notes. It makes you brighten up and forget your worries, even if it’s only for a little bit.

And that’s exactly what Hiiro wants! He’s glad that he’s able to bring you even a fraction of the joy he gets when he’s around you.

Signs off with little spades, just as a hint!

He does reveal himself eventually, though, because he feels like there’s no need for him to remain a secret anymore.

The only reason you didn’t suspect him to be your secret admirer despite the teeny spade doodles is because you thought that he wouldn’t hide it, rather he would just outright tell you, which is why you’re so surprised when you realise.

Even after you find out, he still makes it a habit to send you the puns–though not so secretly–because he likes seeing you smile when you receive them!

Mayoi is probably the most secretive out of the 3. He would rather die than let his position be revealed.

He finds himself writing you flowery, poetry-esque short letters with cute little doodles whenever he’s thinking about you (which is a lot!). He would prefer to never have to send them ever, but he also thinks you deserve to be appreciated for all the hard work and effort you put into things.

You are strong, you are brave, you make flowers bloom in my heart. A whole garden, just for you. My heart, no matter how small and shrivelled, will always have a space for you. You are more perfect than you know ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

He’s certain you wouldn’t like any messages from a gross creature such as himself, so he decides to take the good ol’ secret admirer route.

Goes full-out super spy when it comes to planting your letters.

Crawls into the vents at 4am so he can place them on your desk before school starts, sneaks into the ES kitchen at midnight to place one in your mug, etc, etc. He’s putting those ninja skills to good use!

You’re like a blushing schoolgirl being serenaded, honestly. It’s sweet.

These letters are the highlight of your day. Not just because of how cute they are, but also because no one can figure out where they’re coming from? No matter how hard you try, you can never catch the culprit who is slowly but surely stealing your heart!?

The actual reveal happens by accident.

You wake up in the middle of night, craving the most delicious drink known to mankind. You open the kitchen doors and lo and behold, what do you find but Mayoi, a piece of paper in one hand and your favoured mug in the other.

Hang on… Your sleep-addled brain starts to connect the dots. Is Mayoi-san…my secret admirer?

Starts stammering about how y-you’ve got it a-a-all wrong and eep! I’m s-s-sorry for r-ruining your night!

You giggle, startling him, and tell him that it’s okay before thanking him for how sweet his words were. You tell him that he also has a special place in your heart and he nearly dies. Hopefully you know CPR? Or maybe…mouth-to-mouth?

Sends you shoujo-style lovemail in the form of adorable letters praising all your virtues and commenting on how cute you are when you smile.

You wouldn’t expect Kohaku to write such cheesy things so easily, but all those Ghibli marathons with Aira have paid off. It started off as a way for Kohaku to express his feelings for you in secret, but after a few too-close calls with Rinne, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

This way, he can tell you how he feels without embarrassing himself and also seeing how you flush every time you see one of his letters on your desk makes him more pleased then the cat that caught the canary.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your day is going well?

People always talk about how bright the sun is, but I think you’re the brightest thing in my sky. You push me to be the best version of myself, I want to be the way you see me. You manage to stay brave and strong, and I admire your desire to be the very best you can be. You’re a blessing to the people around you, and I thought you should know this. I’m not…very good at expressing my emotions but, I hope that this could make you smile just a little bit. That’s all.

You deserve good things.

Love, 🌸

His letters are so sweet and heartfelt, they make you giddy.

You slowly start anticipating the letters everyday. There’s always a kind note and a query about your day, it feels like the writer really cares about you.

This goes on for around a month, and then you decide that you need to find your so-called secret admirer so you can thank them for their kind words and praise.

When he finds out you’re looking for the writer of the letters, Aira pushes him to reveal himself but Kohaku doesn’t want to. He feels like it might be a letdown for you, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your experience.

But Aira, who knows that there’s no way you would shun him for something like this–actually there’s no way you would ever shun him, period–decides to casually let it slip in conversation that Kohaku’s been writing love letters for someone. Oh, Y/N, you are the recipient of these letters? How shocking~

When you thank Kohaku earnestly for how kind he is–and be sure to compliment him about his writing skills while you’re at it!–he’s flustered like you wouldn’t believe, but also incredibly happy as well. 

notes!

WC: 1.1k

reze txt HELP this was so long omg im?? but secret admirers are sooo cute ahhhh <33 i hope this made up for u missing my 100 followers event anonnie! and that it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write!!

[tamayosclinic]

i love your writing 💛 what’s you’ve posted so far has been great! if you have time could i request something where modern au! giyu is seen by his students being soft/loving with his wife in public? i feel like they wouldn’t except him to be like that since he so strict as a teacher! thank you!!

A Surprising Discovery | Giyuu x F!Reader

Modern AU

Warning(s): Slight suggestiveness at the end

Author's Note(s): Thank you so much Nonny. I'm happy that you enjoy my writing. I had fun imagining the outcome of the Kamaboko squad finding out about Giyuu and his wife. I can see Giyuu being the type to keep his personal life to himself so it would be a shocker to everyone. Enjoy this oneshot.

Word Count: 612

The Kamaboko squad was witnessing a phenomenon. It was mind-blowing, made them question reality, and, in Zenitsu’s case, sparked jealously. The three boys and Nezuko decided to go to the shopping mall after school to commence summer break. The first stop was the food court for lunch which led to them seeing Giyuu Tomioka, the drill sergeant wannabe who instead became a P.E. teacher. The sound of his whistle being blown in intervals rung hauntingly in the boys’ ears.

“Who’s the hot chick?” Zenitsu asked, almost screaming out the question as he pointed to the woman seated across from him. “No way that coldhearted bastard has a girlfriend.”

“Don’t say that Zenitsu and keep your voice down Tomioka-sensei will hear you.” Tanjiro scolded in a whisper; not that Giyuu nor the woman would be able to hear them since they were sitting on the other side of the court. “Besides just look at him right now. Maybe he’s not as cold as you think.”

At Tanjiro’s comment, Zenitsu looked back at the couple and his jaw dropped at the sight. Was he mistaken? Surely, the school’s P.E. teacher would not be capable of looking at a woman with adoration while feeding her icecream. Zenitsu rubbed his eyes then looked again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“Does Tomioka-sensei have a twin?!” He asked loudly, earning him another scolding from Tanjiro.

“Keep your voice down and to answer your question no but he has an older sister according to Kocho-sensei.”

Inosuke, who had been uninterested the whole time, rolled his eyes impatiently and dragged the four to the line of their favorite restaurant. “Why should you care about Tapioca-sensei? Let’s get some food already!”

While waiting in line, the three boys would occasionally glance back to see Giyuu and the woman feeding each other icecream while talking and laughing. Seeing Giyuu act so soft towards someone felt unnatural especially for the boys after a whole school year of hellish military-like exercise that left their bodies sore and heavy at the end of each day.

Nezuko fangirled at the couple’s public acts of affection and snuck a video of the couple to send to her friend group (bad mistake it got shared). The last thing they saw of the couple was them cleaning up and walking away shoulder to shoulder with the woman’s arm wrapped around Giyuu’s.

…

Bonus:

“Giyuu honey, your coworkers have been texting. You won’t believe what happened.” (Y/n) said while preparing some light snacks and wine for their movie night. Giyuu walked into the living room, refreshed after his shower, and wearing the new nightwear (Y/n) had bought for him.

He hummed as he picked up his phone and opened the chat, scrolling past the latest comments to the top comment that started the conversation. He deadpanned at the video Uzui sent in the chat of him and (Y/n) at the mall earlier that same day.

Tengen: Oi Tomioka, what’s up with this?

Kanroji: *GASP* so cute! Give us details Tomioka! Who is that?! When is the wedding?!

Rengoku: WOAH! CONGRATS TOMIOKA! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD IT IN YA TO FIND A LOVER!

Shinazugawa: Huh?! Well, I’ll be damned. Tomioka has a girlfriend.

Iguro: Well, if Tomioka has a girlfriend then anything is possible. (i.e., Iguro getting together with Mitsuri)

Himejima: Alas, I wish you both a happy fulfilling life together.

Kocho: Why haven’t you told us you have a girlfriend Tomioka?

Giyuu: That’s not my girlfriend. That’s my wife.

Everyone: …

The chat erupted in countless questions about Giyuu’s relationship and why they were never invited to the wedding, but he muted the conversation. He can answer those in the morning. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy his first night of summer break with (Y/n). Enjoy the night they did.