#I'm just so excited these guys exist in someone else's brain now

[pyrotechnicarus]

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Ghost Story Pinterest + This Playlist

Image Credits:

La Casa Sulla Collina | Gio Mondelli

Untitled (Burning House) | Tito Merello Vilar

Untitled (Fire Face)| Amir Adel

Untitled (Mirror Face) | Simon Kerola/Johnny Keethon

Deimos | Dragan Bibin

Other photos taken by me (Mel Hornyak)

ain't no grave - bethel music / in your love - tyler childers / lady may - maggie antone / the house that built me - miranda lambert / ghost - josiah and the bonnevilles / deeper than the holler - randy travis / people - gabe lee / annie's song - john denver / drink the river - gabe lee / cover me up - jason isbell / a house in nebraska - ethel cain / canary - joy williams

listen here!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[satorusugurugurl]

i love ur work sosososisoso much <33 thank y for sharing ur writing ahh!!! could i request a satosugu fic where toru gets punished by sugu and reader??! maybe for like.. getting off alone or flirting w someone else?

Summary: You and Geto went to a local bookstore, leaving Gojo to fend for himself at home. It’s not like the two of you didn’t invite your boyfriend to join you on your outing. But shopping for books, of all things, didn’t spark his interest. But as the boredom of being alone settles in his bones, he decides to do the only thing that sounds remotely fun. Beating his meat.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader x Geto Suguru

Word Count: 2,876

Warning: Masturbation, cursing, oral sex, degrading, edging, smut, creampies, holy

A/N: Anon thank you so so much for the sweet words! I'm glad you're enjoying my stories! ❤️❤️❤️🥹This gave me brain worms and I just had to write it! Two of my weaknesses are SatoSugu x Reader and masturbation.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

”Are you positive you don’t want to come with us?” Suguru questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his white-haired boyfriend. “We were thinking about stopping for lunch after.”

”Nah.” Satoru is leaning against the wall, watching as you tie your tennis shoes. “The idea of a crowded bookstore makes my skin crawl. Plus, that's you guys’ thing. Books and reading.” He shrugged his shoulders lazily.

You hooked your arm through Suguru’s, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Okay, do you want us to bring you anything home?”

”Nope, have a good time. I’ll see you when you get back.” He waved his partners off with a smile before heading back to the living room to enjoy his Sunday afternoon.

The first hour was fun, trashy reality television, and the cupcakes you had made the previous day. Thirty minutes later, he groaned, flipping through Netflix to try to find something, anything to watch. Two hours into being alone, all by himself, Satoru groaned as he started to regret his decision to stay behind.

The apartment was so quiet and lonely with you or Suguru there. The room wasn’t as bright and full of the life it usually radiated. Jeez, was this what his life had been like before the three of you had gotten together two years ago? He was so used to going on dates, cooking food, and just existing in each other's presence now. What had he used to do in his tiny dorm when he was alone?

He would eat take-out, play on his phone, and jerk off to porn videos on Twitter.

Satoru sat up straight, a grin slowly tugging at his mouth. Yeah, he used to jerk off constantly. Since you three got together, he didn’t need to please himself. Seeing as either you were sucking him off, or Suguru was giving him a handy in the shower. It was like heaven, being able to experience pleasure with the two of you.

But thinking about wrapping his hand around his cock, going at his own pace, had him throbbing with excitement. You and Suguru wouldn’t be back for a bit. When you two shopped for books, you shopped—going down each aisle, flipping through pages, geeking out over your favorite series. He had plenty of time to jerk off and recover in case things got heated once his two partners returned home.

Leaning back onto the couch, Satoru turned the television to some random movie on Netflix. Mostly for background noise, and if you two were to come home in the middle of his solo session, this might cover him until he could readjust himself. With his eyes on the screen, Satoru slowly began rubbing his cock through his gray sweatpants. Up and down, just warming himself up.

Gojo was surprised that he was as hard as he was already. Was it the excitement of possibly getting caught or just that he hadn’t pleased himself in so long? Whatever the case, maybe he could care less. All that he could focus on with the warmth that was beginning to settle in his groin as he pushed his sweats down to his upper thigh to free his cock.

It was so hard, standing at attention with a slight twitch. “Oooh fuck.” Satoru pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Fuck, I’m so hard.” He spit into his hand before wrapping his bare palm around his shaft.

His hand slowly began moving up and down, coating his length with spit. He squeezed himself harder with each stroke. He was imagining it as you or Suguru’s hand. Both are so warm but different. Suguru’s hand was larger, more calloused. Y/N’s hand was smaller, more delicate, and her manicured nails always looked o pretty around his cock. The faster he moved his hand, the more the television sounded like white noise as his mind swam around his two partners.

Satoru found himself mimicking the movements you and Suguru would do. He gripped himself tight, like Suguru, stroking fast and hard. When he reached his tip, his pointer finger would tease his slit that beaded thick droplets of pe-cum, as your smaller hand would do so gracefully. Imagining his two partners worshiping his cock, was better jerk-off material than any porn video.

“Mmm, ooh fuck me.” Satoru’s hand squeezed his thick length hard, his hand moving faster. “That’s it, Y/N, just like that, Sugu.” Looking at his cock through his lashes, he gritted his teeth. His tip was leaking pre-cum, his balls were tightening as he felt himself getting closer and closer to cumming. “I’m so fucking close, so close, don’t stop.”

Grabbing his shirt, he placed the hem of it between his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to get cum all over it. Having a new shirt on when you two got back would be hard to explain, seeing as he stayed home alone. It would be much better to paint his stomach. It would be easier to clean up that way.

“Nnngh, fuck.” Satoru’s muffled moans grew louder, his cock twitching harder under each stroke of his hand. “Fuck yes, fuck yes.” The familiar burning coil in his abdomen tightened, and he never heard the door unlock. “Fuck, gonna cum—“ And tightened as his partners called his names. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” And tightened before it snapped as Y/N and Suguru walked into the living room. “Cumming fuck! Fuck!”

Satoru jerked his wrist frantically. Ropes of hot cum coat his hand, stomach, and chest. His pace finally began to slow as his cock started to soften in his hand, his white seed shining under the sunlight flooding the room. Fuck, he didn’t realize how much he missed jerking off. Especially since he had the two hottest people starring in his dirty mind.

In the afterglow, Satoru lazily looked towards the end table in search of a tissue. To his horror, he found the two of you watching him. Your jaw dropped, cheeks flushed, as Suguru ran a hand over his mouth, dark eyes glued to the cum on his stomach. The three of you basked in the silence before Satoru quickly wiped at his cum.

“W-Welcome home!” He shouted, doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with either of you. “I didn’t hear you guys come in.”

Suguru chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Maybe that’s because we were too busy listening to you cumming.” All attempts to finish cleaning himself came to a halt at Suguru’s words.

”I well, I gu—“

”There’s no denying it, Toru.” You joined in; faux sadness etched onto your features. “We caught you red-handed.” Your pout was adorable as you looked up at Suguru. “This is why he didn’t want to come with us Sugu.”

“Mhmm,” Suguru gently stroked your Y/H/C, “and to think we felt so bad for not including him. We stood in line for forty minutes at the cafe to get him the chocolate cake they're famous for.” Gojo swallowed as you lifted a bag with the cafe's name to emphasize Suguru’s words.

Slowly getting up on noodle legs from his orgasm, Satoru started walking towards you both. “It wasn’t like that. I just got bored. It’s not like I plotted to stay here to jerk off without the two of you.” The annoyance on both of your faces made him cringe. “I appreciate you guys thinking of me!” His hands reached for the bag, only for you to yank it away. “Oh, come on!” Satoru Gojo pouted, his eyes darting between you and Suguru.

“Huh, funny you did cum, on yourself.” Suguru barked out a laugh at your words. “And you didn’t even let me lick it off. I think that’s what hurt the most.”

”Y/N has a point, Satoru. You cleaned it all off right in front of her.” Suguru took the bag from you and placed it on the breakfast bar. “You know how much she loves our cum. My poor Princess.” You sniffled as Suguru pulled you tight against his side. ”Satoru has been a very bad boy, hasn’t he Y/N?”

”He has.”

Gojo ran both his hands through his hair with a sigh. “I’m sorry, guys. Is there any way that I can make it up to you?” Instant regret settled over him like cold rain. Both you and Suguru’s eyes darkened as sinister smirks tugged at your mouths. “Oh, oh fuck, please wait, have mercy.” He held both hands up, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop you from pouncing on him like a spider monkey.

Hours later, the automatic timer on the living room light came on. Illuminating the lewd scene in front of Satoru. You were facing him. Your back firmly pressed against Suguru’s chest as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Suguru’s hair was falling out of its bun, dark strands sticking out here and there, clinging to his skin. His lips were against the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at your skin. His actions made you whimper softly as you rode him faster.

Satoru wanted to join in, to get onto the floor and drag his tongue up Sugurus length, all the way to your clit. He hated being in the recliner across from you, his hand jerking at his cock. Fuck, you guys didn’t even let him get completely naked. He still had his sweats on and spit-damp shirt clenched between his teeth. He understood this was a punishment for jerking off and getting caught. He had to watch you two, and he'd already cum three times. But this was getting to be just cruel at this point. He wanted to join in!

Instead, you watched him, smirking at the flush dusting his cheeks and neck. The tears that formed in his oh-so-pretty blue eyes, and the way he fisted his cock to another orgasm. Arching your back, you gasped, Suguru’s tip hitting your G-spot as he bit your shoulder. Your arm reached over your head, fingers fisting in his hair. The sight of you getting closer to the edge made Satoru want to join in even more. If he could just get his lips around your clit, he knew you would squirt all over his face.

”Guys, pwease!” The cloth muffled Satoru’s words in his mouth. “I wanna help!”

You chuckled in between soft moans. “Sugu~nngh oh shit,” You watched as Suguru reached a hand around your waist, palming your thigh. “He wants to help~!” You laughed breathlessly as Suguru hummed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin

”Satoru,” your white-haired boyfriend perked up, “you wanted to jerk off so bad when we were gone. So you’re going to keep jerking off until we say otherwise. Dirty man whores don’t get rewarded.” Suguru’s hand, which Satoru wished was around his cock, slowly slid up to your clit. “Good fuckin’ sluts, like our sweet Y/N here, they get what they ask for.” You whined, your hand tugging at his hair. “Mmm fuck, baby tell me what my good girl wants~ yeah, be a good example to Satoru?”

”I wanna cum Sugu.” You whimpered, turning your head to face him.

He grinned, pressing a heated kiss to your lips. “You wanna cum?” You nodded your head, kissing him harder. “Go ahead, sweet girl, cum for me, Y/N.” His fingers rubbed circles around your cock. “That’s it; I feel you clenching cum on. Let it out, princess.” His gaze darted down, watching as you squirted hard.

“No, no, no,” Satoru whined like a spoiled brat. “I wanted to taste her cum!”

You were trembling, still coming down from your orgasm. Once you could form words, you tilted your head to the side. “See why we were so disappointed in you?” Suguru slowed his pace, his still-hard cock gently sliding into you. “I wanted to clean you up, but you used a tissue. I think I’ll clean up my mess the same way slut.” Suguru groaned, his cock twitching at your dirty fucking words.

“No! Please don’t. I’ll clean it up!”

”Oh, will you?”

”Yes.”

”And how will you clean up Y/N‘s cum Satoru?” Suguru asked as you slowly began rocking back and forth on his cock.

The two of you watched as your partner stood, his cum coated chest and stomach heaving as he looked to the floor. There was a dark, needy look in his eyes, one a person would only see in a feral animal. You didn’t know what to expect. For him to grab tissues to clean it, like he had done to himself. Him dropping to his knees was something you nor Suguru had anticipated. With bated breath, you watched Satoru slowly slide onto his stomach, his eyes on yours as he stuck his tongue out.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” Suguru’s cock throbbed harder inside of you as he watched Satoru lick and suck at your cum off the floor. Like some kind of desperate animal. Never once did he break eye contact. His tongue and lips kept moving, cleaning Y/N's essence off the floor in the most vulgar way. “T-That, fuck, Y/N wh—“

“Such a good boy.” You finished for Suguru. Your tight cunt twitched at the sight. “Cleaning up my cum like the horny dog you are.”

Satoru sat on his knees. If he had a tail, it would be wagging at your praises. “Yeah? I did good. Am I forgiven? Do I get to join in now? Please!” He watched Suguru’s face scrunch up as Y/N bounced faster and harder onto his cock.

”Hmm, Suguru, what do you think?” You asked, feeling another orgasm coming close as Suguru's hands gripped your hips, thrusting up into you.

”Let that dirty slut help. I wanna watch him lick your clit like he just did to the floor.”

Before you could change your mind, Satoru leaped into action. He was positioning himself between both of your legs. His tongue immediately went to work, sucking and lapping at your clit like a madman. The sudden added friction had you rocking faster, trying to feel more of his mouth on your sensitive sex. While Geto slammed up into you, chasing his release while driving you to your own.

Watching you both with lust-filled eyes, Satoru started jerking his cock once more. Fat and hard tugged as he took your clit in between his lips, suckling the bud as hard as he possibly could. That was all you needed to send you tumbling over the edge. You screamed so loud you were sure the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you again. Not that you cared as you felt Suguru’s chest heave as he buried his cock inside of you as he filled you to the brim with cum.

Thank fuck Suguru had been right against your g-spot. Because Satoru was bleed to have you squirt in his face. The sweet, tangy taste of you flooded his mouth. He sucked at your lips, tasting both your sweetness and Suguru’s slightly salty bitterness. Like a well-crafted treat just for him. The taste of you both combined had his hand stroking his dick, desperate to cum for the fourth time that day.

In the afterglow, Suguru grunted, kicking Satoru’s thigh with his foot. “Idiot, don’t forget what we just told you.” His best friend slowly smirked as you stuck your tongue out in between pants. “Don’t waste your cum.”

Not needing to be told twice, Satoru jumped to his feet, stroking his cock in front of your face. Only his hand was swatted away, replaced with Suguru’s. The sudden change of hand and pace had Satoru whimpering like the horny fucking dog he was.

“That’s it, Satoru,” Suguru purred, stroking faster, “cum on her face like a good boy.”

That sent your white-haired boyfriend right over the edge. Tears ran down his cheeks as he watched his load, which would most likely be his last for today, spurt over your tongue, chin, and the tip of your nose. You looked so pretty, cock drunk, glazed in his cum. It had him crying out in pained pleasure.

When the last waves of his orgasm faded, Satoru stumbled. Both you and Geto grabbed his arms, slowly easing him to rest on the couch next to the two of you. He gasped, his eyes shut, in post-orgasm bliss. You couldn’t help but smile, gently stroking his hair. Suguru kept himself inside of you, kissing your neck lovingly and putting the footrest up. You and your boyfriend relaxed in the silence until Satoru’s soft snores could be heard.

It's a perfect way for you to end a wonderful Sunday.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.

because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.

and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.

anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!

i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else

i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through

and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .

but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl - Final

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers, Barry Allen.

Word Count: 3335.

Part 1 / Part 2

Lena holds your face firmly, planting kisses all over it, making it impossible for you to move. Not that you would—there's nowhere else you'd rather be. You wouldn't move even if the room was on fire.

"I can't believe this is real." she whispers between kisses. Your cheeks flush, not because of her words, but the raw, desperate sincerity in her voice. It makes you feel like the most amazing person in the entire multiverse.

"Mhm, you know," you say, pausing between her soft pecks on your lips, "I love all this, but maybe we shouldn't be at CatCO anymore."

Lena pulls back slightly, her face betraying a flash of insecurity. Kissing someone that looks exactly like her employee at the workplace, one in a committed relationship even, clearly unsettles her.

"Okay, you're right." She slips into CEO mode so quickly it startles you. Pacing the room, she starts brainstorming. "Should I sell CatCO? Or find someone to run it for me and come back to this Earth on sporadically occasions? But what’s the point? Should we be worrying about which universe we're going to and—"

You get up from the couch, silencing her with a kiss. She's left breathless, lips shiny and red, staring at you as if you've taken all the words from her. "You were asking a lot of important questions, honey, but I was thinking of something else. I meant we should go to your place. I'm pretty sure there's a bed there, and we'd be much more comfortable."

"You know what? You do have good ideas!" She grins, and you can't help but mirror her smile. This smile. This one is new. Something your Earth's Lena never did.

"Look at that, I found a difference," you say, kissing the corner of her mouth. "That smile, I've never seen it before."

"I've never given it before."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised. "It's mine?"

"All yours." Lena says with such depth it knocks the air out of your lungs. And you realize she’s not just talking about the smile.

Lena looks at the ring on your finger, and you give her a nod. There's a lot to be scared of while facing this new reality you both wished into existence, but figuring out where to go next shouldn't be one of them. Yet, Lena's sweaty hands gripping yours tell you she didn't get the memo.

By now, you have traveled to so many Earths that they all look different and somewhat the same. It's hard to explain. The novelty of new worlds has started to wear off.

"Hey Barry!" 

"Y/N!" Barry exclaims, his voice filled with surprise. "And Lena?" His eyes drop to your intertwined hands. "Wait, which Earth are you guys from?"

"Earth-99," you say, pointing to yourself. He nods, recognizing you. Then you point to Lena. "Earth-242."

Barry's eyes widen, and he stays silent for a moment. You don't rush him, knowing he needs time to process. "Okay, wait a minute. Kara told you about the Earth I visited?" You nod. "So you went to a different Earth and found a Lena that loves you?" You nod again. After a pause, he adds, "Please don't tell me you're here because—"

"You guys could use my powers," you interrupt, raising your eyebrows suggestively. "And you could use her brains."

Barry looks like he wants to argue, but he can't. Not when he’s the guy who makes some of the most questionable decisions across many worlds. "I guess this is kind of my fault, isn't it?"

"One hundred percent started with you, yeah."

"Well—" He still seems like he wants to argue, but then something clicks. He realizes you and Lena could be valuable assets to the team. Soon, he smiles like a child. "Fine, you guys can stay. Welcome to Earth-1! Oh, and the S.T.A.R. Labs. The team will love having you here."

Lena looks around with a huge smile on her face. "Oh, I'm going to like this place."

You can't help but mirror her smile, seeing how excited she is. "If you're happy, I'm home."

Barry gestures for you both to follow him. "Let's go tell the others."

Earth-242 loses its Lena. She sells CatCo, donates some of her money, and invests the rest in her friends. Initially, they seem upset, but when they see her smiling at you, their anger softens. They want her to be happy, and she is happy. If they find it awkward that she is dating you, they don't mention it, and you’re grateful for that.

Assuming it would have been the same on your Earth, however, was a clear misjudgment of your friends' characters.

"So," Lena is helping you pack. She carefully folds your clothes while you toss them haphazardly into a box. "When are you going to tell your friends?"

"Well, I sent my resignation letter from CatCo a few minutes ago, which pretty much means Kara will be barging in through the window anytime now."

Lena comes closer, "And you're sure, right?" Her hands make way to your face and her touch is so good you lean into it without a second thought. "Darling?"

"Hm?" Lena has her eyebrows raised in question while waiting for your answer. "I've never been more sure about anything else in my life, ok?" You hold her waist and smile at her insecure expression. "You and I working in S.T.A.R labs sounds like a dream."

"There's no Kara in his universe." Lena makes sure you remember that. 

"Yeah I know." You kiss her forehead and smile. "We'll be fine, honey." She still looks uncertain. "Come on, Lena. I can live without Kara just fine."

"Oh really?" Kara barges in through the window that very second and you roll your eyes at the situation. Great, here she comes right on time. "You can live without me, huh?" 

You've never seen Kara this upset before, not while looking at you anyway. Perhaps at one super villain that got her really mad. But not you, never you.

"Kar," Your heart beats faster while you approach her. "I can explain. That was completely out of context." 

"Well then, please." Kara points at you, then glances at Lena behind you. "What is Lena doing here? I thought she was at headquarters."

"Right." You gesture for Lena to come closer. "Kara, this is Lena from Earth-242."

"Hi!" Lena smiles kindly. "I know this is confusing, you look exactly like the Kara from my universe too."

Kara's mouth opens and closes, unable to form a sentence.

"Well, Lena and I are together!" You smile brightly, throwing your arm around her. "And we're moving to Earth-1. Barry got us a job at S.T.A.R. labs and so we're packing my things."

One of Kara's eyes blinks, just one, while she tries to comprehend all that you're saying. She stumbles back into the bed, and lets herself fall into it with a murmured, "What?"

"I emailed in my resignation letter to Ms. Grant today, I was terrified to face her."

Kara clutches her chest. "What?"

"Darling," Lena calls your attention and you look at her. "Maybe go slower." She points to the door. "I'll be packing your kitchen stuff. You two can take your time."

Kara isn't listening to you. She fires off question after question, without giving you time to answer. So, you stay silent, watching her process everything.

"You're leaving? With a Lena? You're dating Lena? Oh my Gosh, you did love Lena. And I said it was crazy. But it is crazy. It's so crazy you're dating a different Lena from another universe and you're moving to Barry's universe? Is that even legal?" Kara reaches for her comm. "Emergency meeting in the headquarters, something insane is about to happen."

You sigh, looking at her, about to argue, but Kara points a firm finger at you. "Get your Lena there. Now."

"You know you're not my boss, right?" One hard look later, you call out, "Honey, we're going to the headquarters!"

You and Lena make it to the headquarters with Kara on your tow, so she is sure you two won't vanish into another universe (her words, not yours). The whole team is there already and Lena squeezes your hand a little stronger when she senses your anxiety.

"Hey," She whispers close to your ear. "They love you, they'll be happy that you're happy." You look at her, swallowing hard as she assures you with her eyes. "And if not –" She taps on your ring lightly.

"Is that…" Lena narrows her eyes at her counterpart waltzing in the headquarters hand-in-hand with you. "Me?"

"Hi everyone. This is Lena, from Earth-242." You decide to tell them all at once, so they can't argue. “She’s my girlfriend. We’re very happy, and we’re moving to Earth-1 together and working at S.T.A.R labs.” 

Kara points at you, “See! Something crazy!”

“It’s not crazy.” You huff annoyed, even though all of your friends are looking at you like you just grew a second head. “It’s love!”

Earth-99 Lena, it’s the first one to say, “well, this is awkward.”

“No, no. There’s nothing awkward about this.” But they are all looking at each other trying to understand how to best react to this. 

J'onn clears his throat. "Well, I wish you both good luck on your journey." He says getting opposite reactions from everyone else. He ignores them, and comes closer, shaking both yours and your girlfriend's hands. "I hope you two find happiness on Earth-1, and visit us anytime you have a chance." 

"What the fuck!" Alex exclaims from behind him.

"You'll be missed, Y/N, but I understand your decision." J'onn looks back at the others. "I'll patrol the city while you continue this conversation."

For a moment, the room is silent, but then Kara takes a deep breath, and everyone starts talking at once.

"You're crazy!" 

"This is insane!" 

"Are you shitting me?"

When they finally stop, they all look at each other, seemingly agreeing on a plan.

"Earth-242 Lena, can we talk to you?" Kara starts.

And at the same time, this Earth Lena looks at you, “Can we talk in private?” 

You agree with your head and follow her into a private room in the headquarters. Only Kara would be able to listen to your conversation, but you don’t think she is dying to know what’s happening inside this room when she is quizzing your girlfriend to death in another one. 

“So, you’re dating… me.”

You bite your tongue. How will you get yourself out of this one? “Well, you said that we’re all different people, remember?” 

She doesn’t, by the way she is looking at you completely lost. You’re not surprised she doesn't recall the moment when everything changed in your life, she was, as always, barely aware of your presence.

"I asked about it and you said there wouldn't be a paradox. We're different individuals."

"Well, yes, but she's still me somehow." She seems to be carefully choosing her words, but when she speaks again, you don't think she chose the right ones. "Isn't that the reason you're with her? I mean, you barely know her. What you know is because she reminds you of me."

"That's not true. You two are different."

She doesn't believe that, but for the sake of winning this argument she lets it slide. "Then how do you know that you're in love with her?"

"Sometimes there's no proof. Sometimes you just know."

She stares at you in disbelief and repeats, "Darling, she is me." 

"No, she isn't. And you wanna know why?" Lena raises her eyebrows, encouraging you to speak. "Because she loves me. Because, God, Lena, she can give me everything you never could. Love and smiles and—" You turn around, you can't look at her face while you say that. "We've been falling into beds together, and in each other's arms. Just loving each other so hard, I can't even remember what it's like to be a mess over someone who never gave a damn about me." You breathe out. "So, do I still need to tell you how she brought me back to life?"

She doesn't talk for what it feels like an eternity. You never once thought this was how you were going to confess your feelings for her. But now, it doesn't matter anymore. It might never have mattered in the first place.

You turn around slowly, Lena's eyes are filled with unshed tears. "Smiles?"

"What?" 

"She can give you smiles?" She repeats. You're sure you've said many, many words after that one, but 'smiles' is the word she decides to focus on. You nod slightly and Lena lets out an incredulous laughter. "Like I never smiled at you?"

"Different smiles."

"Different smiles, okay." Lena parrots, wiping her eyes even though no tears have fallen yet. "So, what? You jumped into different universes to find a version of me that would give you different smiles?"

"Shut up." You try to push past her, but she blocks you. "You don't get it. You'll never get it."

"Why?" Lena's voice is small, despite her standing tall in front of you, blocking your escape.

"Because!" You try to move past her, but she holds your wrists, pinning you against the wall.

"Because what? Say it!" Lena growls with such intensity, a hard gaze flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

"Because you wouldn't love me!" You yell.

Lena blinks at you. The splash of blue in her eye takes you off guard, you've never noticed it before. You knew that about your Lena, but you hadn't realized all of them had just a tiny bit of heterochromia. 

Then she finally blinks away a tear. You hold your breath to the small tear rolling down her cheek and time just stops between you. You both get so caught up in the moment, she lets go of your wrists, hands dropping to her sides. You swallow deep while raising your hand to her face. Your thumb brushes softly against her skin to clean a single tear she shed for you. 

You smile. "Different smiles, different tears." You explain. "I know you're confused, and I was confused too. For so long I was confused about this. But then I kissed her, and now I know."

"Well, maybe you need to be confused again." Lena pushes you further into the wall, no space for you to even breathe without having your body fully pressed against hers. 

You know what's coming next, and here's the thing, you could fight it but it doesn't even seem worth it. 

So when Lena kisses you, you think back of the many Lenas you've kissed in different universes. The sweet familiar pecks; The passionate disgraceful kisses; The 'you're mine' kisses; The 'I wish you were mine' ones; The many lips and tongues and hands; And then this one.

When she breaks the kiss for air, you have a dopey smile on your face and a light behind your eyes, you don't think it was there before.

Lena smiles too, satisfied with herself. And if you're being fair, you don't think you've ever seen this smile on her face. 

"Ok. So now that I have you confused again," She starts and you think she keeps talking, something about how to keep you on this Earth and get the other Lena back home or whatever. You're not even sure, you're not listening. Body buzzing so loud, you're shaking. 

"Sorry, I've got to —" You run to the door, since now she's given you enough space to do so. 

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Oh." You offer her a smile, the first one since this whole conversation started. You see, the other ones, they weren't for her. "I'm going home."

She looks puzzled, so you give her more information.

"You know, Lena, when you have perfect, 'almost' is never enough." You run back into the main space, you think Lena is right behind you but you're not sure, can't see her. You're not even aware if there's anyone in this place except for her. Your Lena, the Lena. 

She's caught by surprise when you hold her hand, but is quick to get up and ignore the last question fired at her by the three musketeers. "She's done explaining herself to you. We're going home."

"Wait —" Kara tries.

"No." You keep making your way out.

"Y/N, please." You think you hear Lena's voice, but it could've been Kara, or maybe even Alex, you don't care. But your escape is put to a halt, and you turn around with a frown on your face.

"No, you guys don't get it. And we don't have to explain ourselves. I love her. This one." You raise your intertwined fingers so they all can see it. "This Lena is the one for me. And you can accept that and be happy that I'm finally happy, or not. But what you can't do is try to mess up with this. Do you all get me? Me and my girlfriend are moving to Earth-1, we're starting a life together. Because she is the one I want. And no other Lena will ever do. No other person will ever do." 

You look back at her and see the smile. Different, unabashed, yours. Earth-99 Lena might have a thousand different smiles you've never seen, but you don't care about them. You like this one. This one is yours.

You look at her, doe-eyed. "You're with me?"

"I'll die." She whispers. "I'll die a sure death if I can't be with you."

Epilogue.

"Honey, do you know if Barry is bringing Iris?" You ask, going to the kitchen. Lena is organizing the many dips she bought so they look nice. She has her hair down in messy little waves, a large t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants. Barefoot on the kitchen floor, and not even an ounce of make up on her face. You smile at the perfect sight. "Why are you making all of that? It's just a game night with our friends."

"You know your friends from Earth-99 are coming too. And yes, Iris is coming too." She accepts the kiss you plant on her cheek with a bright smile. 

You peek inside one box. "You bought potstickers just for Kara, didn't you?"

"And the special beer Alex likes, and I snuck the new prototype out of the lab so I can show Winn." Lena says, sounding more excited to see your friends than you.

"That's why they love you a lot more than they love me." You joke and she chuckles, holding you from behind.

"I'm just happy they came around."

You turn around so you can face her, but her arms never leave your waist. You kiss her forehead and peck her lips.

"They would be crazy not to. You're the best Lena in the multiverse, even they can't deny that."

"How about Earth-17 Lena who helps every other Earth when they are in crisis? You know, the one responsible for this." She raises her eyebrows and you know what she means.

"No one's responsible for this, but us. If we hadn't kissed, we would never know." Your finger goes to her chin and you tilt it the slightest so you can kiss her better. And God, how is it possible that every kiss you share with her, feels the exact same as that first one. Explosive, urgent and in perfect harmony. "Just don't tell Barry that, or he might kick us out of S.T.A.R. labs."

"We're indispensable at the labs, darling."

"No. You are indispensable. I'm just the comic relief." You joke and Lena laughs as bright and easy as the sun. And shit, this Lena is so much better than any other Lena. Not only because she is yours, but like, damn, look at her. You're sure, you'd have died many deaths if it wasn't for her.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 136 thoughts

before i get into the sad stuff i need to say that ai eating ice cream with her head empty no thoughts expression blasted ten hundred million billion tons of dopamine directly into my brain. thank you.

This chapter is interesting for a lot of reasons but I will say up front that I'm really glad the story is taking the time to humanize Nino and to flesh out the absolute mess that are her feelings towards Ai. I was really excited when she entered the story because I had always wanted to know more about the 45510 narrator (which this chapter basically unambiguously confirms even more strongly than before — we get the 45510 drop again!) but I was worried after meeting the real Nino that she would be painted as a black and white villain. Through Kana's empathy for her and the movie's portrayal of her though, we get to see her as just a normal person.

Because like… I'm gonna be honest, I feel so deeply sorry for Nino! Like, Jesus Christ, don't forget that she was anywhere between twelve and sixteen when all this was happening. She was just a kid being brainpoisoned by the entertainment industry and held to impossible standards. She had no power and the few things she felt she had any control over were being ripped out of her grasp. Is it any wonder she reached a breaking point?

Not just that but… man, B-Komachi gen 1 just seemed like it was an utterly dogshit experience for everybody but especially anyone who wasn't Ai. Both Nino and Kyun have said it explicitly: they did not feel like valued members of the group. Saitou pushed and favoured Ai to the extent that everyone else in B-Komachi felt like backup dancers who were just there to make Ai shine brighter. We see this pattern repeated in B-Komachi gen 2, as well! I've already talked about how in a very real sense, the group only exists for Ruby's sake and Kana and Memcho really are just there as her accessories but Miyako herself is favouring and pushing Ruby for work to the extent that even Ichigo points out that she needs to give the other girls more jobs. No wonder Kana empathizes with Nino so deeply.

Something else really interesting about this chapter is getting to see what dealing with Ai is like from someone else's POV. Understand that I'm saying this as the Internet's Foremost Ai Wife Guy but oh my god!!! I think this is the first time we've gotten a really good understanding for how deeply, deeply frustrating Ai really must have been to deal with as a person only allowed to see the perfect 'Ai of B-Komachi' mask. Nino is all but breaking down in front of someone she considers a friend, begging her for the slightest bit of honesty and authenticity, for Ai to just show that she cares about Nino in the least… and Ai just gives her a bunch of blithe, noncommittal answers. Even knowing Ai as well as I do, I could almost feel a ghost of Nino's desperation and frustration pass over me as I read that exchange.

With that in mind, Nino's outburst at the end of the scene here doesn't feel like pure nastiness - it feels like desperation. It feels like her lashing out with the worst possible thing she can think to say because if she hurts Ai, if Ai actually shows that Nino's words reach her at all, if Ai's human enough for Nino to hurt then…

But, well. We already know how this all turned out. Even so, like Kana said… Ai's smile is suffocating.

Speaking of Kana, this was a damn good chapter for her. A lot of people seem to have interpreted her as getting 'lost' in the role of Nino but going by this chapter's portrayal, Kana seems to have a much healthier distance from her than Ruby does to Ai right now (BUT WE'LL GET TO THAT….), being literally portrayed as viewing the scene as if from a distance. I do think her empathizing with Nino is allowing her to examine and get out some of the hurt and resentment that's been bubbling away since Black Hoshigan Ruby but things are being so infinitely more complicated by everything else going on around this split.

Speaking of which… whoooooooof, Ruby. Her levelling up her understanding of Ai was uh, not quite as good for her as I'd previously thought. It's important to note that this is pretty clearly Ruby's feelings that she is projecting onto Ai: in 45510, Ai herself explicitly says that she never hated the B-Komachi girls and Ruby blurting this out here feels like a very pointed contrast to that. It's pretty clear to me that we're coming back around to something established during the preproduction phase: that this material is quite literally triggering for Ruby and it's damaging for her to be engaging with it.

… which is why it's so, so scummy for Gotanda to be pushing this. I'm holding back on really going into what I'm thinking of Gotanda right now because I want to see if/how the manga addresses this but I'll just say that I'm coming away from this part of the story feeling much more sour about him than I think I'm intended to. It's possible that this is just because I'm fresh off hearing Jeanette McCurdy's horrific account of how damaging this kind of acting was to her as a child but… I find it really hard to like and get behind a director who is purposely letting his actors endure intense psychological suffering for the sake of His Vision lol

After all, like… for all that he talks about wanting to film 'the true Ai', this Ruby freakout is not that! That's Ruby, snapping under the strain of the pressure put on her. Even if you want to argue Ai felt similar strain… is her restraint and her grace and patience in not giving out under it not also 'real'? Why does authenticity necessitate turning Ai's ugly feelings into a spectacle? Why does Gotanda think he has the right to make calls on what is 'authentic' here?

I'd say "who died and made him king" but that's the point, isn't it? Ai died. She's not here anymore to make calls about her identity and the people who are here and who are in a position to do so aren't actually doing it with care and consideration or proper respect for her memory. This movie has been touched by so many people who have their own agendas, who did not know anything about Ai and quite frankly have no right to be making calls about who she really was and what she really felt. 15 Year Lie is an utterly ghoulish production and nobody is coming out of it clean.

[limeartichoke]

limer's slendermansion au masterpost!

mostly made for myself and anyone else who wants to read/is interested! most of my fanart is built around this too ha ha. containing headcanons/a complete overhaul/fanon depictions of my fave creepypastas + the slendermansion au, because i think my brain deserves to think about them

(now illustrated!!)

tws in the tags but there's nothing too serious i think

the slendermansion/slenderman;

- bastard man you will never be a father figure in my eyes

- there is no such thing as any other variant of slenderman (we are not in a Dr Seuss book we do not need the rhyming quartet of evil white men)

- doesn't speak, probably leaning more towards the operator rather than slenderman tbh

- except this guy has exceptional situational humour (it's me I'm the humour)

- not explicitly abusive but like if you don't obey him when he sends you out to do proxy shit he'd probably kill you

- which is a problem especially with a house contained with not only agents/berserkers but also sleepers

- which actually thinking about it isn't that big of a deal except for the like 2 guys where they have DID and one alter is an agent and the other isn't

- the house is kind of like the monster house from monster house albeit a little more lowkey in it having a consciousness (so perhaps a little more alike to the house in encanto, just less friendly)

- you don't age in the house, but it's a situation where you don't really notice that fact until you really think about how the dates never really change properly

- wounds don't heal properly either, but if someone is fatally injured within the house slenderman usually blinks them out of existence for a couple hours before they're found again, perfectly fine, but lost around the woods surrounding the mansion

- the only time you'll actually see him is if fatal injuries happen or if a proxy has fucked up on a mission or something and needs immediate backup (kind of like alex in MH)

- missions are always posted through the letterbox once a month in envelopes along with the four weekly newspapers (maybe a magazine if you're lucky)

- possibly also how the proxies source their wanted posters info, which is usually contained in the paper. they have disputes and contests on whose criminal description is the best (slenderman interferes with cameras so no photo evidence exists of any of these people outside of the mansion, only eye witness accounts)

- only a certain amount of people are used to go out every month, typically in groups of threes/fours - less if the people he's sending out are older (responsible of him, I know)

- mansion is situated in a black void. please don't ask me where this void is because I don't know but it's probably a different dimension from the earth most of them are sourced from

ben drowned;

- the benjamin lawman kind of ben

- seemingly an infinite supply of pondscum he's constantly picking off of himself

- whenever a new zelda game comes out he's always excited because it's a new link skin to use + so when botw came out it was like the equivalent of a wardrobe makeover

- one of the few that doesn't have to share a room with anyone given his physical body is like, semi real and mostly spends his nights in his game cartridge which is in an overheating Nintendo 64 in the tower attic, which is too small for a bed anyway - but ben personalises it as much as possible (it's a pig sty)

- speaking of his body, it's in a weird liminal state of real and not real, because he can make it disappear/reappear but everyone can touch him, he can touch others, etc. i explain this away via slender mansion dead person magic

- he doesn't typically eat, and even though he doesn't need to he likes making his body breathe (as much as it can since it's waterlogged most of the time)

- Ben's body is mostly in a state of flux dependent on his mood, eg: if he's content/happy he looks less drowned, if he's upset/angry he looks more corpse-like

- can spy on people through any electronic within like a 50 ft radius of his console without him actually having to enter the device, so to say

- this has caused many an argument

- along with him being able to phase in and out of reality he can also appear in any digital screen

- constantly electrostatic and will constantly touch people to give them electric shocks to piss them off

- probably one of the youngest there, about 12/13. maybe even eleven - around the age when preteen boys become semi unbearable 364 days of the year and have like one day of emotional realisation

jeff the killer;

- just want to clarify that this jeff has hair and eyelids in this au i feel like that's important

- but he doesn't blink much to put people off so really it's almost as if he doesn't have eyelids anyway

- will not stop picking at his mouth wound & that shit has NOT healed and will not stop oozing plasma/rbc

- ptsd from an ambiguous house fire that probably happened but Jeff won't talk about it (read: I haven't decided on the specifics yet)

- I've seen in some stories jeff and fire are tight but I've always interpreted it as more of an adversion to it

- honestly my reformed fanon version of him is pieced together from a bunch of rewrites I've seen

- mentally ill asshole (emphasis on asshole, he sucks ass)

- like come on sure a few kids bullied him but your first instinct shouldn't be to kill them . that's at least step 27 on a bad day

- tbf he had neglectful parents

- but like so did liu and he only started being homicidal after his brother disfigured him

- killed his parents but was unsuccessful with fully killing liu because, funnily enough, killing someone you gaf about is hard even for dickhead jeff

- shares a bedroom with nina and jane because the house (me) thought it would be funny

- quite disturbed when he realised nina was there to stay and probably tried to kill her at one point (again)

- someone take away the bad graphic tees he wears it's almost a crime against humanity

- he cuts all his t shirts up but like. stylishly

- or as stylishly you can get especially when paired with massive fucking demonias he will not stop wearing . he's had them since he was like 12 the only reason they fit is through sheer force of will (no one talk to him about his feet blisters)

- he's like. nineteen at a push but probably the kinda guy to lie and make himself seem younger for pity points

- "i killed my parents when i was fifteen, god can we not grow from our errors anymore? cancel culture nowadays. [...] when was my hunt? oh yesterday ha ha it was a bloodbath"

-smokes

nina the killer;

- wow! i wonder who she likes the most in this household!

- (amongst other things) bpd, jeff is her favourite person and it's a pretty miserable fucking time for the first like, year she's living there he is so horrible

- on a bad day her preferred state of being is being at least within a six foot radius of him at all times (maybe he might learn empathy being around her, who knows)

- he went on a little killing spree post-woods family murder and killed Nina's parents, & disfigured her w the glasgow smile but before he killed her slenderman intervened (not to save nina but to make sure jeff himself didn't like die from his own injuries)

- she was his only survivor and saw it as a.. "wow... he saved me from my abusive household, i need to get to him"

- this didn't go down well with her case worker

- neither did her running away (which really wasn't a good idea with massive facial wounds but she did NOT want the hospital to heal them)

- (insert probably incorrect medical jargon) she now has a face which healed with big gaps, sometimes keeps the flaps stapled together for easier eating/speaking purposes but they won't heal back together now

- she takes out the staples when on missions though because she thinks it looks cooler

- her and toby probably go through those face staples like wildfire together

- she only killed one guy before being led (by the operator) to the mansion to try and get jeff's attention (unbeknownst to her jeff does not read or watch the news so had no idea of this copycat kill - she was quite distraught by this)

- one of the few that suffers quite badly with self harm

- her parents were awful and when her little brother died (when he was about four and nina was nine) from their neglect they blamed it on nina

- not necessarily unkind to everyone else but she also especially warmed up to ben because from her fuzzy memory she can see a vague resemblance between ben and her little brother

- scene queen +curly hair she flat irons like once a month on special occasions

- she's the one that does everybody's piercings and sticknpokes

- should she? not at all she didn't even google an online tutorial, just guesswork

- probably about. 15 ish? maybe 16. I don't like her canon age of 11 because the thought of an eleven year old going "i love jeff the killer i hope we jeff the kill together" is lame

- jeff is incredibly put off by her whole schtick and was not impressed upon finding out she was there for the long haul (wouldn't it be funny if this happens thrice)

eyeless jack;

- I've heard so many goddamn variations of his story so I'm just gonna riff and make my own

- 16 y/o kid, average in every which way, gets involved with the wrong people who basically feed him on drugs which make him have bad hallucinations, trips to the point where jack gets very fucking frightened while high and it ends up with the aforementioned wrong people unintentionally killing him

- everyone panics and dumps his body which rots for a while (eyes rotted out first)

- guess who picks it up! (unspecified) cult

- they use him for a ritual which goes awry

- jack's corpse proceeds to be possessed by a demonic force which revives him but he's... different now #emo

- kills cultists as his brain, as decomposed at it was, carried on the fight/flight instinct he initially died with

-but whoops! doesn't remember his life at all (as demon nor human) and almost ends up starving to death before like jeff or someone finds him and drags him back to the mansion

- seeing as jack is a (semi) demonic entity slenderman does not appreciate him in the house but the actual house itself does not gaf and provides him a bedsit anyway

- finds out his name when going through the paper with others and they see his missing poster printed on the front page of 2 of the papers (he's since been demoted to a back page story)

- his brain is a weird combination of demonic and human matter (but he's still just one person, just a hybrid now - leaning more human)

-the tar comes from something to do with the specific ritual and it stains like shit

- which was unfortunate to jeff and his previously perfectly white hoodie

- finds out he eats kidneys after being force-fed by jeff and toby the left over meats the house provided for them that no-one else wanted to eat

- so basically take a human corpse with no eyes with tar for blood and stuff in a demonic entity and give both the host and entity amnesia

- atp he's older than 16 but he doesn't know how long his body was dead for + how long he was in the real world so really he just kinda guesses he's probably 18-19 now

- got his mask as a kinda shitty paper mache project from sally at one unspecified holiday (birthday or Christmas probably) and got it cast in a layer of resin to keep it lasting longer

tim wright/brian thomas;

- like maybe twice a month tim is let out to go shopping for everyone, if not for his mental health if nothing else (considering the house realistically could stock it's own shelves) like walking a dog

- never let out together because they will just run away (even if masky ends up dragging them both back it's still a hassle)

- everyone else is much more okay with this living arrangement than tim

- albeit the only reason brian isn't as uncomfortable with the situation is because he died, and has a lingering sense that this is his purpose now (that's the proxy in him, he doesn't actually believe that)

- they push their single beds together to create the most uncomfortable double bed on planet earth

- has a period where they kinda hated each other at first before realising getting over it and making out up

- it's okay now they love each other (i may have skipped a few chapters)

- (said chapters being arguably more than a little traumatic for both of them but it's. fine)

- tim arrived first, brian took a while as the operator takes longer to resuscitate corpses than he does to just guide a living person into his influence

- brian still looks a little fucked up though (one pupil larger than the other, bruising on his back from his blood pooling, + other related non-issue injuries now that he's been reanimated)

- masky is an alter of tim's , in which masky is the operator's agent and tim is not

- turns out the seizures weren't JUST the operators doing. is he allowed his anticonvulsants or antipsychotics though? well, the house doesn't provide them and if he manages to steal some from outside & he's too conspicuous about it they mysteriously disappear so there's a lot of untreated mental and physical illness going on here

- neither masky or tim know if there are any other alters because masky has never cared and Tim's only just finding out that masky isn't the operator's doing (albeit the operator is a front trigger)

- while unmedicated, tim comes to realise there's so much shit that makes him and masky a little cofront-y/switchy when before he just thought it was normal dissociation

- in my head brian is kind of a sleeper agent but remembers what he does when he is acting as the operators proxy, probably similarly to how alex was (oh how the turn tables) but he can snap back out of wanting to kill people where alex didn't/couldn't

- he is the meme "there are two wolves inside of you"

- tim is constantly stressing about everyone going out dressed like they're ready for a night out partying (especially jane and nina, they do not dress practically)

- brian and masky dgaf they're just here hoping to not keel over and die (again)

- probably about 24-27, part of me prefers them being on the younger side for comedies sake

- like the operator finally kidnaps a few adults to take care of these misfit teenagers and the adults have barely entered their 20's themselves

-peak comedy

"ticci" toby;

- hates being called ticci toby or any variant that isn't just his name

- this is of course exploited by his peers (cough jeff) to piss him off

- it really doesn't help that when he's agitated his tics get worse

- because of this he tends to lock himself in his bedroom to get away from jeff being a jackass

- the first proxy slender brought to the mansion

- which was a shit idea because who the hell decided that a kid with schizophrenia and multiple dead family members to hallucinate was a good option to leave by himself with a ghost (sally)

- especially with the issue that nobody in this household is medicated properly

- he has mild asthma that he keeps thinking he grew out of years ago (spoiler, he didn't)

- probably close with nina and liu but otherwise near the beginning he's very reserved

- because he can't feel pain + his bones are pretty weak the amount of times he'll come back home, take off his clothes to bathe or something and only then realise he's completely fucking mangled one of his joints (his left ankle is typically the victim)

- ergo he walks with a limp because the bones sit too awkwardly to really walk very well but running is less of an issue especially when adrenaline is pumping

- ...unless his knees play up and he kind of just crumples under his own weight . he always curses when he finds that he literally cannot get away with no bedrest

- the muzzle was NOT his idea and he is not impressed at being made to wear it like surely there are other options to him biting at his fingers

- eventually jeff becomes less antagonistic (sometimes) and they become closer

- they became pretty close after having to resuscitate jack together

- probably have debates on whose version of blade is better

- probably pretends to have a tic and launches his axe at jeff, who in turn literally never believes when toby's actually having a tic attack

- has this almost gotten them both shot out on the field several times? yeah

- refuses to believe he has cannibalistic tendencies as he eats from someone's liver, "just to try it"

- dressed like it's always the thick of winter

- keeping his canon age of 17 because it fits well with the late teenager aged up situation i got going on

jane the killer;

- holy shit it happened twice

- i kinda dig the original story of jane just hating jeff so much she goes around killing people (specifically men in my mind #misandristqueen) pretending she's killing jeff

- in my head though it wasn't jeff who attacked her, but a copycat instead (not nina, just some other male serial killer)

- hates her face now and the mask is specifically a fitted prosthetic

- by the time she was getting over her hatred slenderman brought her into the woods and got her to the mansion

- she was not happy and neither was jeff

- incredibly hostile the first day before jeff finally stopped antagonizing her because she would have just killed him

- finding out that it wasn't actually jeff who disfigured her caused some conflict but in the end she still settled on hatred

- real

- hardcore goth 40% of the time the other 60% she literally looks unrecognisable

- eventually stops wearing her prosthetic in a casual setting but still uses it while hunting

- probably 19-20 ish, but she acts so much older

characters I've put less thought into:

alex&jay as skully

since the operator took so long to start bringing their bodies back from the dead, when he uses either of them as a proxy there's not yet human life within them, currently 100% operator. As time moves on, this decreases, and they may join the ruckus of the mansion one day. For now, glances of the familiar mask unsettle both Tim and Brian.

sally

corpses when brought back to life still will forever look pretty fucked up ( as mentioned with brian having injuries from his fall + prolonged time being dead)so the reason sally is covered in blood is due to this fact. She was one of the first (after toby) for slender to house and literally no one can find out why tf he's housing a stressed seven year old ghost-corpse - because really she acts more like a ghost, and typically avoids the more masculine newcomers until she can get a good feel if they're okay from everyone else. doesn't necessarily avoid all men, especially if said man is pretty typically feminine (long hair, no facial hair, etc). has taken a liking to hanging around jeff who is probably the quickest person he stopped being fucking horrible too, because she's literally seven and he is a villain not a monster ok

homicidal liu

probably one of the most violent/reactive towards fellow proxies because of his brother (LOL) but if you're chill, he's chill, which is probably why he gets along best with toby who also mostly kept to himself at the beginning. doesn't have DID because i don't think it fits his character (given his main trauma was in his teens) but did probably cause serious fluctuations in mood, being able to go from 0 to 100 quickly. had a grand entrance to the mansion where he tried to kill jeff upon first seeing him (reasonable reaction)

to conclude, i made this all for me but also for anyone who has interest in my au! any and all creepypasta/marble hornets drawings are probably part of this au (whether the art takes before the characters were part of the slendermansion or not ha ha)

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[SEVENTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cw: talk about depression but no in depth detail.

Heidi sighed, nervous. Nichole had asked her to meet up and she had no clue about what. Well, she had an inkling but she hoped it wasn't about the podcast episode that went up yesterday.

She was surprised to hear of Cartman hosting ANOTHER podcast episode today. Normally they only did one episode a week, sometimes two if it was a particular exciting week but even so that had at least a few days in between.

"Heidi."

Heidi looks up and sees Nichole, "Oh! Nichole hey!"

"Cut that shit out, did you know?" Nichole asks and crosses her arms.

A look of shock runs over Heidi's face briefly, "Wh? What are you talking about?" Heidi stutters.

"Y/n. And Kenny? Hello? The podcast last night? Did. You. Fucking. Know?" Nichole grits out.

"No! NO! Oh my god I swear I had NO clue whatsoever!" Heidi exclaims, "I wouldn't EVER have participated in that podcast if I knew what Cartman was planning, I swear!"

Nichole stares down at Heidi with a hard stare, "Heidi. Be straight with me here."

"I am! I am! Nichole oh my god please believe me." Heidi pleads.

Nichole clicks her tongue, "You do the logistics behind that podcast Heidi. Sorry I'm a bit apprehensive to believe you, there's no way Cartman orchestrated that entire episode ON his own."

"Okay.. okay look, I don't know how Cartman had this whole thing planned, I didn't even expect Red to show up at the stupid podcast either and share her piece. If I had known ANYTHING I would've shut that down so quickly, Nicky you have to believe me." Heidi speaks quickly, voice softening a bit at the end, cracking.

Nichole sighs and sits besides Heidi, "Then how did Cartman of all people, get this information.. and HOW did he do this."

Heidi racks her brain, "There..there was a mystery caller, uhhh.. a while ago, said they had some world shattering news or something stupid like that to Cartman. Asked if... if uhh.. if friends or fame was more important? As like, like a test of sorts," Heidi plays with her hands unsure of how to continue, "Do.. do you think whoever that was.. may have had the information?"

"Well.. we could assume that caller was Red?"

Heidi ponders that for a second, "The caller sounded male.. I mean there was a voice changer on it but it didn't sound like Red on a voice changer.."

"So there's someone else out there that KNEW Red and Kenny had a thing going on..but why tell Cartman? Why not gather the evidence and go straight to Y/n?" Nichole wondered aloud.

Heidi shrugs, "I wish I knew.. listen if I knew that Cartman had that information I would've started unplugging everything. I literally walked into the studio and Cartman was already hosting the episode and there sat Red.. and before I knew it, Cartman and Red were already talking about Kenny."

"I saw the podcast episode, I thought it was somewhat scripted that you were coming in shocked, listen I'm sorry.. Y/n is in a state of despair and I just.. I know coming to you accusatory wasn't right of me but.." Nichole sighs, "I want to figure out who is trying to hurt Y/n and for a second there I thought maybe you were the one or at least knew more information.. I'm sorry for the doubt Heidi."

"It's okay Nichole! I'd be the same way, I've been trying to figure out who the caller was but Cartman won't let up with the information."

Heidi pauses, "Oh my god! He's going live right now!"

"He's.. what." Nichole slowly raises her head to look at Heidi.

"Yes! He's got an episode planned right now! A live one? I think. I told him I was busy today and couldn't attend and he just waved me off and let me go."

"Can you guys BELIEVE, Reify? Canceling the rest of their state tours! Have you guys even gotten your money back?" Cartman asks the group in his chat.

Cartman loves this section of his live podcasts, the part of it where he turns to fans to ask them questions. People asking him HIS thoughts on matters and in turn him asking questions (and only choosing answers that fulfill his hateful agenda) has always validated his need for fame, for status.

"Oh thank you mm_panles for your answer; you say you HAVEN'T gotten your money back?" Cartman hums, "Well that's a shame! Seems like Reify are a bunch of greedy money hungry bastards huh? Well.. I'm certain we can see why."

Cartman continues reading the chat of the current, ignoring any comments that allude to how Reify has returned the money for those who are returning tickets.

"Yo, chat look at the user connor_conned, look at what he said haha, fuckin loser." Cartman snickers, munching on a small bag of popcorn as he continues reading.

"Right well," Cartman clears his throat, "Reify certainly has let down a lot of people. Speaking of letting down people, let's all give a shoutout to Kenny McCormick for possibly being the BIGGEST let down of the centuryyyyyy, bro does not know how to keep a woman."

Cartman munches on popcorn before continuing, "Speaking of, you gotta hand it to him, he managed to get not only Y/n L/n, a BASSIST for a band, albeit it being Reify, but also Red McArthur, a MODEL, everyone give him a round of applause real quick."

Cartman stifled a laugh as the chat split in two; people actually giving applause emojis and people going "bro that wasn't funny".

Rolling his eyes at those who claimed he wasn't being funny he sighed, "If you guys are gonna be lame this time you're free to leave. No one wants you hear anyway, chat boo the ones being lame as hell right now."

Cartman's phone started ringing, "Oh jesus christ, sorry everyone call ale.." Cartman trails off, before chuckling, "You guys are never going to believe who this is.." and the chat goes insane trying to guess who the caller is.

Cartman pauses for dramatic affect before continuing, "Stanley fucking Marsh."

Stan and Clyde couldn't help but sit in silence trying to figure out the mess that is going on. The friend group was in rough shambles, with many people blocking Kenny, Stan not being one of them, not that anyone but Kenny probably knew that.

"Dude.. has Y/n said anything to you? Anything at all?" Clyde asks.

Stan shakes his head, "No bro, nothing. Kyle and Nichole both said their attempts haven't worked. I just.." Stan sighs.

Stan is in a state of complete chaos. He has no clue how you're feeling right now, you've gone through so much in the past few weeks.. too much for one person to handle. Stan had no clue how he'd react if all of this happened to him like how it has for you.

Stan thinks back to the stalker, in all honesty it'd been on his mind ever since it happened and he's been slowly trying to figure out who the stalker could be in his mind... and with the bulletin board in his room.

He knows for sure it couldn't be Kyle, Clyde, Nichole, Bebe, or Wendy. He knows for sure it's not Kenny anymore nor would it be Red considering recent events. He knows Craig and Tweek are out of the picture for that, considering they had no reason too stalk you NOR would they ever, plus their alibi was tight.

Everyone else was up for debate..but Stan was so tired of the mess, of the drama that he hasn't given the stalker much of a thought.

"..ude? Yo! Stanley Marshhhhh." Clyde drawls on.

Stan perks up, "Hu..? Oh Clyde sorry man what's up?" He scratches his neck awkwardly.

"Nice dream huh?" Clyde jokes, "Listen to this shit, Cartman's going live."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me.. let me see that." Stan reaches over to grab Clyde's phone and checks the tweet, "Oh my god. That little bitch weasel."

Clyde takes his phone back and opens the link for the podcast and starts watching it. Stan moves himself closer to Clyde and they listen in on Cartman's ramblings as he talks about the disappoint that Reify is for their actions of canceling the rest of the tours.

Clyde scoffs, "Classic Cartman... bank on everyone's misfortune. Like always."

Stan feels anger bubbling underneath his skin. How dare he. How fucking dare he. This was all Cartman's fault.. well Kenny's for cheating in the first place but Cartman's out here airing everyone's dirty laundry like he doesn't have a mountain of horrendous shit underneath him.

How dare he drag Reify through the mud? Stan's pride and joy? This band is his family and Cartman just comes through knocking down everything Stan has done to help build Reify? Everything Kyle has done? Clyde? Nichole? Y/n?

Y/n...

Stan feels his anger dissipate, he can hear Clyde continuing to rant about how awful Cartman is but his mind is on you again. What if you saw this? How would you feel? None of this was your fault but he was sure you had heavy guilt that you're the reason for this.

He texts you quickly, another "Please tell me if you're doing okay, I'm here for you Y/n, I need to know you're doing okay." and sighs. There was no way you'd respond and he knew that. He just was hoping.

Unfortunately he lacked a key to go over to your house and a part of him assumed that if he went over there, there's no guarantee you'd let him in even. He knows the feeling too well of self wallowing pity, of being self deprecating, of depression.

He sighs and looks back up at Clyde, who is still on a rant about Cartman, Kenny now included and he can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for not blocking Kenny like everyone else.. but he can't bring himself to end years of a friendship.. not quite yet.

"Let's call Cartman." Stan pipes up.

Clyde looks at him confused, "The fuck? Why would we waste our energy on that bozo?"

Stan shrugs, "Cuz, I need to tell him how much of a bitch he is."

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @ryenwritess @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies, mostly not very long ones today, but there is one about some characters being tops or bottoms! Wow, that was a clumsy way to explain it lol

thestarlightfae asked:

SHE'S SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I thought the drawings on here were yours and the drawings on the Nebula collage tumblr were Katsu's.

Thank you for answering!

HEHEHE THANK YOUUUUUU wait why am I thanking you, I have nothing to do with Mila being adorable. She really is!

Also thank you for answering, I really was wondering! lol yes that makes sense. But yeah, I am an artist for Nebula College, but it’s mainly Katsu’s brain baby in terms of absolutely everything else <3

Once again, thank you for your questions.

Anonymous asked:

I literally stalk your page everyday to see when you post! Your posts, may they be writing or art, are always delicious. This isn't a question or anything, but I thought you'd like to know how much some people enjoy your posts❤️

Anon! You scared me there for a second, but then your message turned out so sweet!! 🥺💕💕💕 Thank you so much for your kindness and for enjoying our stuff! It makes me super happy to hear that…

Anonymous asked:

Bitting those Ortho calves chomp chomp 🤤

Damn enjoy your meal Anon~

Anonymous asked:

I find the whole top and bottom thing kinda interesting: so I'm curious to know if you have any headcanons for the characters not on the list so far; Vargas, Sam, Crowley, Najma, Baul, Eliza etc.?

I’m glad you find it interesting, Anon! It’s a very subjective preference-based thing, so I see how someone might find it weird, even though it’s not as rare on the Eastern side of the fandom…

Oof, this is a good question lol A bit difficult to tell with some of them because we just don’t ship them with anyone, buuuut.

Vargas is a top because while he isn’t super interesting to us, he fits a very specific role in a very specific trope verrry nicely (gym teacher/badly performing student).

Sam is a mysterious man, but somehow gives us top vibes. Crowley has the same reasoning for also being a top… for now. He is also an authority figure and misuses his power + an idiot, we love those two things in tops lol But we don’t know enough about him and don’t ship him with anyone.

Baul is a top; we haven’t seen him, but we know the type, and we love seeing this kind of a man as a top. Similarly to Sebek, to be fair.

Eliza is *drum roll* also a top because Idia attracts those with his babygirlness lol We aren’t invested in Eliza enough to give her a concrete role though, it’s mostly just because she is bossy and more assertive than Idia.

Can’t say anything about Najma, haven’t met her yet at all, unfortunately :( Not getting any vibes yet, but excited to figure her out one day… when we watch the event.

Anonymous asked:

Idia: *exists*

Everyone: It's free real-estate

Poor guy just wants to sit in his room and play video games T-T

It’s his fault for being such a datesim protag! He just keeps attracting more and more weird people… (good hehehe)

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

This quote from Shiori Novella summarises Idia/Ortho : "once you're a ghost brother, are you really a brother at that point?"

(this quote refers to Miku and Mafuyu's relationship in Fatal Frame)

lol absolutely fair. And in their case, it’s a robo-ghost brother! Or a blot-ghost brother! The layers of taboo slowly disintegrating….

Anonymous asked:

So, in conclusion, Jade has a mushroom kink.

Mushroom isn’t just a kink, mushroom is a way of life, mushroom is everything and anything, mushroom is everywhere…

Anonymous asked:

Have you heard of obey me nightbringer/master to rule them all it's a good game and has many good characters

I have heard of it and seen some of the characters (they’re pretty popular as far as I can tell!), but we haven’t played it.

[milkywaydrabbles]

Hii it's me again!

I wanted to say thank you for answering my questions! It's was so nice to finally talk to you. I'm glad you brought up sanzu because I think with your dark writing style you could capture characters like sanzu and hanma in a really deep headspace. A lot of people write sanzu as cold and chaotic but forget that he was characistically loyal to a fault (and low-key a God complex when it came to mikey).

I feel his bontent executive lifestyle would not be one of stability or kindness and that any women that somehow peaked (and kept) his interest would be stuck between his curiosity and (not so subtle) obsessive tendencies masked as loyalty. What do you think🤔

Either way I'm so excited to see how your future works will be with him! He's such an enigma that dark creators like yourself truly get to play around with the many faces they have. I hope you don't work yourself too hard with all our requests❤️ make sure to eat something delicious as a treat.

-🐇 anon

OKAY I'm on a computer just for this ask bc I have a lot to say I think and I need full mobility lmao. One I'd like to thank YOU for your kind words and thoughtfulness I appreciate it so much! It's really great to have these deeper questions for these characters because they really are so complex, and I know I get caught up in just the heehee haha's of it all and writing them the way I'd like to see it or someone requests it but thinking about what they do or say in the real world would be terrifying.

SO SANZU! While I do think he is cold and chaotic, I completely agree with you. Don't get me wrong I LOVE the way people write him and I think it's phenomenal I can read Sanzu fics all that (@ everyone reading this if you have faves drop the link) but sometimes I do think sight is lost on who he is/how he's depicted. Sanzu is cold in the sense that no one else is worth his time, because Mikey exists. He doesn't have time for niceties because he has a job to do, and everyone else just gets in the way. Sanzu's chaotic in the way a gang member has to be to survive. But I think we also gloss over the fact that he's taking drugs. Now while it's not explicitly discussed what it is, I imagine it's an upper, so most pills are out the window (except party drugs but they won't do much in comparison to how he acts).

But I like to think the drugs he takes is a combo of something like coke and heavy medication (that he very blatanlty abuses) to cope with the trauma that he practically relives. He has a lot of PTSD that's really shifted its way to stockholm syndrome with what Mikey did to him. The way he's still so loyal to him is really a trauma response beacuse it's easier to deal with. I think ALL OF THIS creates such an intense character that without thinking much about it can get boiled down to just a crazy silly guy with a gun.

Sanzu in a relationship is a terrifying concept, because he really would be obsessive. I don't even think he'd be the type of obsessive that would kill a man because he's jealous, I think his mind would tell him it's out of pure protection for whoever's he's dating. I think the longer he's with them the more difficult it is for him to stop himself from being outwardly obsessed, but I think the exposure to his lifestyle over however long would kind of make his s/o be like 'okay well this is him and i love him so it's okay' type deal (we know that's not healthy)

I think if I let this fester in my brain I can create a lil sumn for Sanzu because he's a scary individual that has CPTSD and doesn't recognize that, along with an insane amount of power and a drug dependancy.

ALSO this is a sidebar but I read a short drabble once about Sanzu seeing someone and Mikey found out and basically executed them in front of Sanzu, and he immediately after shot himself in the head. It was intense but a really good ficlet and that seems VERY accurate for Sanzu in a relationship, that eventually they will overtake the number one spot from Mikey and he'll be so attached to them that he'd just take his own life because he can't live without them. I need to find it bc it was good.

ANYWAYS THIS IS A LOT TO TAKE IN IM' SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH I LOVE YOU NONNIE. I hope I get to write for him and characters like Hanma soon in the future, it's very fun!!!

[neongreenllama]

You said Antifa Wolfstarbucks and who am I to disagre????? Here are some random unorganised thoughts, just pure word vomit straight from my brain into your inbox!! you're welcome/I'm sorry!!

So Sirius and James probably go to protests all the time, they're such a good team (thinking of that drabble you wrote for the trick or treat ask a while ago <3). But one time they get separated at a protest and Sirius randomly bumps into this guy who's just dancing to Bella Ciao, eyes closed, like the world around him doesn't exist. As established, Sirius is gone for him, listens to Cordula Grün on repeat, we know the drill. Sirius and James eventually find each other again and Sirius can't shut up about the guy he just saw, and how perfect and hot he is. I think Sirius and James are already in a relationship at that point, but they're open and love telling each other about their crushes and other partners/dates. Maybe they're even relationship anarchists? 🖤

So anyways a week or so later they're at a soli party and Sirius is busy playing table football against Peter and James is just out there being a social butterfly, socializing with everyone at the party becoming bffs with anyone who doesn't run away quickly enough, and then he sees Remus, sitting in a corner, reading Karl Marx because he's not like other commies, he actually reads Marx and he needs everyone to know it, you know? James casually walks over to Remus and starts a conversation about Marx, and at first Remus takes one look at James and sighs, thinking he's just another rich guy who doesn't get it but the longer they talk the more he realizes James is actually kind of smart and knows what he's talking about? AND he's cute?? But then James's boyfriend comes over and gives off the WEIRDEST vibes ever, poking James in the ribs, raising his eyebrows and telepathically communicating something to James that Remus doesn't understand at all. James's boyfriend may be the hottest person Remus has ever seen but he's definitely giving off super weird and awkward vibes when he pulls James to the side and says, a bit too loudly, "James, das ist Cordula Grün!!!!" whatever the fuck that means, anarchist weirdos, speaking in code.

Anyways James is very excited by this revelation and goes to buy them all some more beers and maybe a round of Pfeffi, and then another and then another, and James and his boyfriend are now sitting next to Remus on the couch, his little communist manifesto book long forgotten, now being used as a coaster for the Sterni bottle. Anyways, the party eventually dies down but they're not done with their political discussions, reform vs revolution isn't something that can be settled over just 3 drinks, so James casually mentions that his and Sirius's flat is near by, they could stop by a Späti for some more drinks and maybe some snacks or other stuff and continue this at home?

And Remus is so oblivious, of course he goes with them to talk some more about politics, nothing else, what else would these two extremely hot guys who have been casually touching him all evening (in a purely platonic, very friendly way!!!) want from him? Sure, they were all joking about having a threesome and Sirius actually picked up condoms on their way home but they were only joking, they would never actually be into Remus? Sirius and James probably just needed condoms anyways so it just made sense that Sirius bought them when they were in the store. And if Sirius looked at Remus and asked him which brand he preferred that was purely so he didn't feel excluded when third wheeling a couple, which was so nice of him, looking out for his very platonic new friend. Remus is a bit sad they were only joking about the threesome because he really thinks Sirius and James are both extremely hot, AND they actually get Marx? They're basically his dream guys, but *sigh* they would never actually go for someone like Remus, who is he kidding?

So they get to their apartment, and Remus immediately goes to sit at the kitchen table, they're here to settle the age old reform vs revolution debate after all, but James and Sirius just give him a weird look, and James casually suggests the couch in the living room might be a bit more comfy? And Sirius puts out some candles, which he probably only does because his eyes are tired, so he needs soft lighting, that must be why. It's so funny, because he actually says "let me put on some candles for mood lighting, to make it a bit more romantic for us", and Remus just laughs, he loves Sirius's sense of humor, that guy is so funny!! He even kissed him on the mouth when he said it, just a quick little peck and then he got all flustered and red in the face, probably because James was watching them with a grin. They're such good new friends, Remus really likes them and hopes he will get over his crushes quickly so he can actually become friends with them!

Remus is so happy when he sees they have all the books of Das Kapital in their flat, and he stands in front of the bookshelves, looking fondly at his hero, Karl Marx, when James comes up behind him and gives him a back massage, which is so nice of him, Remus did mention he carried a lot of tension in his back, and James is such a nice guy and already a good friend for taking care of him like that.

Sirius puts on music [sidenote: wolfstarbucks playlist? there are SO MANY songs called Liebe zu Dritt, it took me a while to find the one I was thinking of LOL!] and Remus can't NOT dance, it's just such a deep instinct, he hears good music - he has to dance! The lyrics are really funny to him, again another classic example of Sirius's sense of humor!! And the lyrics even mention communism, so he feels very seen. James has gone from massaging his back to just holding his hips and swaying to the music with him and when remus looks back because he wants to compliment Sirius's music choices he sees them making out?? And at first he's a bit taken aback, because that's kind of rude to make him feel like such a third wheel but then Sirius grabs him and they all dance together and he honestly also thinks it's kind of hot that James and Sirius are so open with their love, and he loves watching them, so really, he doesn't mind if they occasionally kiss while they all dance. They keep giving him these looks though, and if he didn't know that they're way out of his league he would almost think they're prompting him to flirt back and kiss one of them? But surely he's mistaken, they couldn't possibly be into him, they're way too hot!!

NOT YOU SENDING ME AN ENTIRE FIC IN MY ASK BOX

Never apologize for your word vomit! (You call it unorganized thoughts but it's an entire fic) And it's Wolfstarbucks!!! WOLFSTARBUCKS EVERYONE STOP SCROLLING!!!! You have no idea how much I love this!!! I don't even know what to say this is perfect begnning to end

I love the Prongsfoot and their amazing communication and being completely open with each other and trusting and 🥺

Ad Remus "I'm not like the other girls" Lupin! And being completely oblivious the whole time!!?? Honeyyyyy, they're so obvious 😭😭😭 The candles and the dancing and the COndOmS bdjsksksjlsjdjd I can't

AND WHAT THEN??? CAT WHAT HAPPENS THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOPPING RIGHT THERE?!! 😭

Will Remus get it eventually? Or will he be say "well it was nice" and go home and everyone ends up totally disappointed? Will they see each other again? Or will they fuck and Remus remains oblivious the whole time? "Just friends doing each other a favor"? "They didn't want me to feel left out"??? Will they start dating and Remus will never know? What happens when he does figure it out? How happy will he be that those two hot amazing guys want him? How will they go to protests in the future? I NEED ANSWERS! If you ever decide to write a second part to this I will love you forever

[sugawarassoulmate]

Hii! I was binge reading your loser kuroo and oh my god 😭 it's literally everything I hope you don't mind me just venting everything I felt when reading fr.

The dynamic is just amazing! I'm not sure if bully!reader is not that common (everytime I search it's a bit hard to find, so omgg when I came across your work!). Sub guys are just 😪😔 a want you know?

The (lots of) 'first' interactions they had were so ughshsjsbs S-est tier! I felt the excitement on my body, like actually for real! Not gonna be a weirdo and get into details 🤭

And since I was reading it throughout the day I had to pause a few times, chorezz, and when it was getting too tiring and boring I'd stop to read and!! That's when the more angsty ones started and I was about to combust like lord how can life be like that?? Ik I'm being dramatic but it was like the story was kind of matching my mood.

So! It was the best rollercoaster I've been on so far. And again I really hope I'm not being too pushy? but I wanted to ask about some parts of the universe if that's fine! 😔

• are all of the works connected in the universe? I feel like to some point yes, not all of them, but you're the author!!

• about their dynamic in bed!! is the mc kind of like a sub? cause mc definitely leads the relationship. and how would tetsuro define himself? cause he acts like a sub (just realized how repetitive it sounds, sorry!) but when it comes to sex, at times he seems to be the one in "control", control might not be the best word to describe but, you know? for example when he's drunk. Sorry I don't know how to exactly say what's on my mind but you have a gigantic brain!! So I think the question is a tiny bit understandable.

• that part where he started showing interest in someone else?? That was my biggest wtfff moment (very respectfully). The part where I think I have more questions about. I feel like I'm really pushing my luck by asking these, so of course you can ignore these or just idk 😭. 1. Why did he start having feelings for someone else?? 2. Why did mc just ignore it like it was nothing when in other occasions they would be livid? 3. Why did *he* do that to mc? I was like damn bro there's no true love anywhere. In some occasions you mentioned mc being insecure and things like that. 4. How did mc really take it? Did mc feel sad at all with all that? What was mc really feeling through it all? Why did mc forgive him so easily? How was it when they got 'back together'? was mc even more of a cruel bitch to teach him a lesson or something? I'm light headed just thinking about it 😩.

I'm pretty sure there's more I want to ask but I can't remember right now and I feel like I went way over the socially acceptable to ask 😷

I just saw that were both infp and leo!! So happy very belated!!!

Thank you for the patience!

omg no i love these kinds of questions!!! i’m so glad you love their dynamic 🥹 trust me i love hearing all y’alls thoughts when it comes to my stuff it makes me so happy.

i’ll answer your questions one by one haha 

okey the worlds are kind of connected. you’re definitely right that in some ways they are and other ways they aren’t. i like the idea of everything being kinda interconnected in the sense that loser!kuroo, bully!osamu, and stoner!suga can all exist in one universe (the peach cinematic universe if u will) but i didn’t want to make hard rules if that makes sense??? cause i didn’t want to limit what scenarios i could put the characters in! so there’s deff the canon of osamu and reader being childhood frenemies and kuroo and his reader being college lab partners yeah but other than there aren’t rigid rules they have to follow. the freedom allows people to send in whatever request they want for those characters (so long as it doesn’t break my rules!!!) i hope that makes sense!!!

you’re definitely right about reader and loser!kuroo’s dynamic in bed! i just thought it was interesting for the mean, abrasive character to also be the sub in bed?? like “you’re a fucking loser, you can’t do anything without me but alsoooo please pin me down and hold me in bed.” i tend to imagine reader as being shorter/smaller than kuroo (but y’all can imagine reader any way you want!!) just cause i like the idea of mean person a who bullies and bosses around their much bigger/taller person b 😅

ok!!!!!! so i’m glad you caught onto that! it’s a dynamic that i’ve kind of been playing around with bc i have plans for a longer, possibly chaptered fic with that kind of plot in mind. if y’all remember that monstrous 8k fic i wrote for bully!samu and reader….i kinda want to do something similar??? (maybe reader finally tells kuroo she loves him?????) that’s very tbd at the moment haha

this was fun!! it felt like a press conference 😂😂😂 please send more asks like this i love talking about my writing and i LOVE even more hearing what all of you think!!!!

it’s not a bother to me at all!!!

[fire-but-ashes-too]

get to know my oc!

thank you so so so much @flock-from-the-void for the tag <3

im so excited to do this, finally all the unnecessary traits I gave her will be useddd so so happy

gently tagging: @leisoree @rmgrey-author @digital-chance @maewrites13 @briannaswords @tea-and-mercury @anonymousfoz and anyone else who'd like to join :)

this is my forever beloved (and one of my first ocs that managed to not get tossed away) Giada from Flowers and Homicide (before it was murderous roses)

As I step in the lab, a rotting smell fills my nostrils. I'm seriously tempted to drop this crazy interview and go back home, but then I think of my boss.

And so I keep on walking through hell, knowing that the previously cited boss's rage would be even worse.

There's some guy cleaning a syringe near what I presume is a corpse (don't vomit, don't vomit, dont' vomit) and so I approach him and ask him if he knows where a girl named Giada could be.

After a couple seconds, he sends me off in direction of a room with glass panels, through them I catch sight of a dark, curly mass of hair and knock on the door.

"Hello, are you by any chance Giada?" the foreign name is still new on my tongue, I hope I didn't pronounce it wrong.

"Yes, that's me! What can I help you with?" she answers smiling brightly at me.

"I'm from Tumblr-News," I explain "I was hoping you'd have time for a couple of questions..."

"Oh! Sure! I'm on my break right now, so we have a good 20 minutes for talking"

Are you named after anyone?

Huh, interesting question. No, I wasn't named after a person, but an object. A gemstone. See, my family's half Italian and Giada, in Italian, means jade, also my grandmother's favourite stone.

I think she said something about a ring and a proposal.... doesn't matter though.

When was the last time you cried?

Ha haa... Is this really necessary? Yeah? Ok..Yesterday. I just'd just gotten my period and ice cream fell on my shirt. Don't judge, it makes me really emotional.

The period. Not the ice-cream.

Do you have kids?

Do I really look that old? Damn. And no, I don't have kids and don't plan on them.

Do you use sarcasm?

I believe sarcasm should be a love language. Yes I do, anytime I can, I love it, it's half of my personality.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Well, I'm a med student, so probably the overall appereance, if they're sleeping enough, if they're eating enough, stuff like that.

Also if they look like a murderer. Or like a person who killed someone.

Guilty, in general.

What's your eye colour?

They're jade, like my name. Just kidding, I'd love to have green eyes but I don't have them.

She leans closer to me and opens her eyes more than I thought was humanly possible.

I don't know if you can see through the glasses, but there is a bit of mud green in the brown, so technically my eyes are a bit green.

Mostly brown though.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I'm literally standing in a lab full of cadavers. What do you think?

Any special talents?

Oh oh I know this! I can lick my nose! Want to see?

she brings her tongue to her nose and makes a muffled scream while pointing to it.

I also have an apparently worrying knowledge about poisons and death, but I'm studying forensic, can you blame me?

Where were you born?

In an hospital? Duh. It was in San Francisco if you care to know.

What are your hobbies?

I've already said poisons but I'll say it again, they are super interesting, did you know we exist just because some ancient monkeys got high? many times, and those chemicals extended their brain cells and so they got smarter. It's amazing!

I also love magic, I've thought about joining a cult or something, but those people are mad. Worse than me. I've been to a session, and they were all dressed up strange, candles everywhere, there was the star on the ground, you know that star in the circle? That one.

But I firmly believe in faeries, coincidences do not exist, it's them meddling with our lives. You can't change my mind.

Do you have any pets?

I've always wanted a lizard or something like that, maybe a snake even if I'm low-key scared of them. They're absolutely stunning, but what if one bites me? They are super venomous.

But when I was little I had a goldfish, his name was Alastair, it was my favourite character from a book, can't remember which. It died after month.

It's buried in my parents' backyard. Poor little thing.

Any sport that you play/played?

I think you can tell that I'm not the sportiest person ever, but I was on the track team.

I absolutely sucked, but I was in it.

Oh and in winter I always went skiing with my family so also that.

How tall are you?

I'm 5.3 and I hate it. At least I can wear heels. But I usually don't cause they hurt my feet, apart from a pair of boots, those are my salvation. Sometimes I even wear them here, not today tho.. sorry I'm blabbering.

What's your favourite subject?

Oh, it's the first year I'm taking it but it's super interesting, it's called anesteti- anast- anesthesiology... Yeah anesthesiology. Hate the name love the subject. I think I like it because most anesthetics are also poisons.

But yeah, right now it's my favourite subject.

And finally, what's your dream job?

Coroner. Or working in the forensic squad.

Right now I'm in an internship, but if it goes well they might keep me around even next year.

"And that's it, thank you so much or answering, I'll leave you to... whatever you'll be doing" I smile uncomfortably and hug her quickly.

"Just in time, by break's over so I better get working"

She sets down her cup and shrugs on a white lab coat, quickly waves at me and just like that she's gone.

I walk as fast as I can, anxious to get rid of this disgusting smell.

[and-yet-the-daisies-grow]

I've been figuring out "I'm" actually a system. I thought it was just a very particular dissociative case of BPD. Like yes, my unconscious can communicate with me and yes, when it can't I can feel someone trying to speak in the back of my brain but too muffled for me to make it out, and yes, the emotions I change between have their own thinking about gender, music taste, fashion sense, way of speaking, thinking, interacting with the world, skillsets, socializing styles, memories (especially memories at a specific time), and they experience their own emotions differently....

But it can't possibly mean anything, rightttt??

Well, we've finally gotten through the denial, and we're trying to do a host change. We had a host change once before (that we remember), and it happened under very similar circumstances we're in now. Namely, getting out of a bad environment into a better one and learning that our previous coping mechanisms are not only unhelpful, but very stressful and painful to the point of being excrutiating if we think about it too long.

We live on our own now. Our current host's trauma response is a heavy, heavy freeze. But we don't have to hide anymore or conserve our energy as if we're going to be thrown out or abused in particular ways at any point. It's not healthy, to say the least. And the host is so terribly exhausted. He's wanted to step off for years but didn't really know what to make of that feeling.

But it's possible now. Four of us have relatively good communication, while we have almost none with everyone else (we don't even know who exists apart from one, maybe two), and the four of us are very eager for this host change, and the guy that will likely become host is hella on board with it.

So we're excited about that and excited about finally learning how to deal with the environment we're in right now. Hooray.

[ortizselene]

It was nice to hear.

Her insides twist at the contrast between how they spoke then, and now.

If Selene closes her eyes, she can listen to the crunch of Kieran's bite and her brain will fill in the blanks: the exact way his eyes squint, the motion of his jaw when he chews. It's something she's seen dozens of times, hundreds of times, probably thousands, performed in libraries and the packed dining hall and poorly-lit bars that smelled of dark hops and house-made chips.

It scares her to think that he might chew differently now. That this and thousand of other details have changed, and she had no idea when they did, how indicative they were of greater changes. How did she let this happen? Side by side, how similar were old Kieran and new?

Selene supposes she's going to find out now.

'Your office is across from mine,'

And that lands like an anchor: heavy and impossible to hold in her head. Across. From. Him. Trepidation, a sudden and strong flash of excitement compete inside her. Uncertainty, because she didn't know how to navigate it all. Them. Their past, and their future, the stark difference of it all. It felt almost .. tense, and the pang in Selene grows, desperate for a thawing, for a smile, but she can't really blame Kieran for not giving one to her.

She was marrying his brother, after all. Even though there was no way that he— Selene's subconscious balks, fighting against the earth-shattering revelations that lay curled in her heart and mind — felt the same, about this whole situation, it had to be weird. Probably upsetting. Selene wouldn't blame Kieran for hating her.

But still, the thought of it makes her feel like she was drowning.

'I'll be training you, so. I'll be close by, if you have any questions.'

Hope beats against her breastbone weakly. Training her, too. They would be in close proximity every day. It's agony, it's desperate wanting. It's impulsive thoughts slamming against her brain: that she can just pretend this engagement doesn't exist. That she can call up every vendor, cancel every tasting and showing and sampling, no, thank you, we won't require your services. She can burst into Kieran's office and tell him this whole engagement is a fucking fiction and pretense, her father kept pressing and guilting and disapproving.

You can't do this one thing for your family?

"Oh." Selene nods, once, twice, slow as if to conceal the upheaval of emotions inside her. "That's great. Thank you." There's the tightening of her fingers around the cool ceramic. "I know your guys' ERP system is a bit different than ours."

What was this? Why was she like this? What bizarro world had Selene stumbled into where any business conversation of theirs wasn't done shoulder to shoulder, smiling, confident they were going to take over the world together?

Misery just churns within her, Kieran mentions changing furniture.

Well that was nice, the offer. When Selene had become an executive at her father's company, at a sudden retirement, no way for her father to deny what she'd earned because nobody else had Selene's know-how, her backwards-forwards familiarity, she'd entered the space as the only woman there. Someone, some grinning executive who might have not have even considered it very mean, had left a box of tampons at her desk the first day.

Selene had chuckled, emptily, and personally walked the box down to the trash compactor in the sub-floors.

(When everyone else had left, of course. They'd receive no outburst from her.)

"I appreciate that. I'm sure I'll have a white noise machine in there soon. Or some other contraption that my father hates."

Another needed sip of coffee.

"Is it super different?" A beat. "Here, as opposed to your office in London?"

As he listened to Selene explain that Kieran had made some sort of short list, it made him wonder -- how many times did he come up in conversation? All those years that they'd spent apart. Did she keep up with him? Did she avoid his family's name at all costs?

When it came to Selene, Kieran had opted for the latter. There was always this horribly depressing feeling that came with thinking about Selene. The feeling of missed opportunity, and being too late, and watching someone you cared about slowly slip out of your life until they were a stranger.

Selene was a stranger now, but it occurred to Kieran in that very moment that she wouldn't be for very long.

No. In no time, she'd be at family dinners, sitting next to Kane. Selene would be exchanging Christmas gifts with the rest of the family, Kieran included. She'd be his sister-in-law, and he was just supposed to forget about ... everything. All the times he'd spent the night at her place, the moments spent curled up on the couch, watching their favorite show.

Kieran would have to spend the rest of his life pretending that he didn't know her favorite coffee order.

Kieran bit into the apple again. What a cruel fucking punishment from his father.

"That's nice to hear."

It was nice to hear that he was on some short list that he didn't give a shit about?

"Your office is across from mine," Kieran explained. "I'll be training you, so. I'll be close by, if you have any questions."

And then, once she was fully trained, Kieran was going to demand to move offices. Hell, he'd even move buildings. After the first thirty days or ninety days or however the fuck long it took to train her, Kieran wanted to minimize all contact with her. He wanted to pretend that she didn't exist.

"If you don't like the furniture in your office, I'm sure someone could do something about that," he mentioned. "You can just let Ashley know. She's in charge of stuff like that."

Or she could make the request from her fiancé. Future CEO of KNDY. Every time Kieran thought about either of those things, he felt like he was going to collapse.

[velvet-wishes-candy-dreams]

HIII I'm so happy there's another active 2p writer out there!! I'll throw out something basic here to start you off, how about 2p!America with a female s/o that's the personification of the Sun? AHHH I LOVE THE CONCEPT SO MUCH EHNFHWHDW THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME ❤️❤️☀️☀️☀️

Believe me, dear, I know what you mean!! It just came to the point where I decided if there weren't more things out there, I might as well do it myself, and now this blog exists!

Now, to be frank, I'm mentally an old person, so I kind of had to run around figuring out what you meant, but hopefully this does you well!

Warnings: None, Use of ‘You’ And ‘She/Her’

Gender: Female

2P!America with a Female S/O That's the Personification of the Sun

If I could describe this relationship in one way, it would be that one tiktok of this girl with her cat that goes “WOW the whole head is just like the sun! good lord, lady!! shine bright!”

Now can I just say; a match like this would work so well together.

There’s no denying that there was shock when you were formally introduced to Allen’s family, and it wasn’t because there was a complete opposite energy going on. They just couldn’t believe a guy like him would score the sweetest girl known to man. God’s gift even! (Don’t let him know both Matt and Francois cornered you and demanded you to blink twice if you needed help, it’ll hurt his little manly ego.)

Your high strung energy and positive outlook could give Allen a heatstroke. Yes, he can understand why some people look on the bright side of things, but having a girlfriend that religiously follows this bubbly and joyful lifestyle was actually pretty cool.

Yes, the first time you met, he tested just how far he could go with this, but...

Let’s just say sunburns hurt.

(Never believe when he starts bawling over pushing you over the edge, he’ll moan and cry and then peek at you through his hands just to see if you feel any pity for him..)

Another thing; expect cheesy things from this bastard about your mindset.

“Why do you put your shades on when we kiss?”

“Don’tcha’ know, doll? It’s not safe to stare at the sun! Can’t go blind now or else I’ll never be able to see my baby girl again.”

And, of course, you can’t help but melt once he gives you that classic smirk of his.

He’s whipped the moment you start getting excited. And it can be for the littlest thing! Allen will lovingly watch you bounce off the walls with your love for the world. The moment you finally look back at him, he’ll have the goofiest grin with his shades on, giving you a thumbs up to show that he’s listening and basking in your warmth.

Despite being the sleaziest player, Allen does fumble a bit when with you, and who wouldn’t?

Your love for the world isn’t as big as your love for him, so devoting your affections x10 to Allen will leave him in such a giggly mess. His macho guy persona melts like butter on a hot piece of toast.

Not to say he doesn’t drop that flirty greaser guy personality he put up the first time he met you, but the easily flustered American will break his back to keep that smile on your face.

Quite literally, it wasn’t a fun time on your end to watch him recover. But he was grinning like a kid on Christmas because of his ‘ wicked battle scars’, so there’s nothing you can really do except listen to his dramatized re-enactments every chance he gets to share and nod occasionally.

Now, Allen doesn’t mess around when it comes to his girl.

She’s the one that rises every morning and greets the world with her glory. So nothing and no one is going to get away with bringing any dark clouds over her shining rays.

Now of course he can’t get away with bashing someone’s brains in and calling it a night now that you know just how violent he can be, but sometimes, Allen finds ways to get away with his little...exterminations.

Yes, it helps relieve stress, but the moment he feels your arms wrap around him and hears your gentle voice coaxing him to come back down from his rage, the American just turns into mush and finally starts to relax. You are like his guardian angel, his silver lining, his ray of sunshine.

Now, if someone that’s been trying to test your patience really had it coming, he’ll end things off with one grand punch to the face before leaving, you hooked on his arm and babbling about whatever good thing happened prior to that.