#Ponies of Dark Water

[mlpoutofcontext]

[lxxse-cannxn]

↳✦║𝐈𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰

"I will need a box of macaroni, a tube of glue, fourteen gooey bunnies, and three jelly beans. Oh. And glitter. Lots of glitter."

𝐗 𝐗 𝐗 / 𝐗 𝐗 𝐗 / 𝐗 𝐗 𝐗

◤𝐏𝐒𝐃◢

Requests are open!

[tonycries]

PONY

Synopsis. Ride it, his pony!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ríding JJK men, creampíes, bondáge, GOJO’S POWERS, true form!Sukuna, dp, spítting, bréeding, pússydrúnk men, exhibitíonism (Toji and Geto), overstím, spánking, mentions of kids (Nanami), cócky Gojo, making Sukuna whíne, overspíll, heínous things, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hehehe have a lovely week with no leaks <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Do it, then.

Toji felt so dizzy right now, so full of nothing but sheer want and those raspy, stuttering grunts ripping from his chest. With a low keen, he’s sliding one of his rough hands down your bowed spine, mouth watering at that delicious curve all for him. “Arch jus’ a hah- bit more f’me, pretty doll. Lemme see.”

“I-I already am, Toji-” And despite all your huffing and puffing, he purposely takes his sweet, sloppy time tearing his darkened eyes away from how well you were milking him to meet your pouty glare. “Can’t hngh- anymore-”

Smack!

All five of his thick fingers leave a swift spank on your ass, “Now now, sayin’ ya can’t when you were sooo smug about ridin’ me, princess?” He’s rolling his eyes, and you simply get a quick, jagged buck of his hips. Toji’s holding back a high-pitched gasp, as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Better listen or m’ah- never cumming before Sh-Shiu gets here. Unless…” His hot breath puffs against your ear, and his even hotter, fat tip glides just across your g-spot. “-you want him to see?”

This earns him the cutest, drawn-out mewl from your glossed lips, your head throwing back for him to latch on from behind. 

“Oh, ya jus’ got wetter-” he breathes, and from where you were riding him in reverse cowgirl, you could practically hear the awe in his words. Feel that sultry shiver wracking down his muscled body. Toji’s ravenous hands dip down from your hips, two pads of his fingers spreading your puffy pussy lips wide open for him. “So drenched. Ya really like that, h-huh?”

And oh how much you did - your greedy pussy was practically slobbering down his swollen length. Coating him in a glistening coat of all your sweet sweet juices until it gleamed in the dim-lighting. Bulging with all of his long inches, he was so fucking massive that every thorough ram of your hips downwards made this thick base just thwack against your cunt.

Fuck, this was Toji’s favorite position for a reason - he could count every dredge and bead of slick running down his thumping veins with each of your harsh gyrations. And he did. 

“M’m- doin’ what you asked.” you’re whining, batting away the big, fat tears in your lashes. “But you’re not- ngh- h-helping!”

Toji thinks he could laugh right now, he thinks he could tease your needy self until you begged him to fuck you properly. But maybe it was the fact that he had to leave for a job soon, or maybe it was the way you looked so pretty on top of him - he’s feeling just a bit merciful right now. Just a bit.

“Awww, you poor thing–” he’s drawling out with a husky drone. Smiling slyly at the irritated furrow in your brows, the way you mewl when his large hand wraps around your throat. “My needy baby needs help?”

You can only nod half-deliriously, and he places a drippingly wet peck on your lips. Tasting that sinful scar and the syrupy sweet taste of his tongue. Dragging hotly across your lower lip, “Need s-so badly to have me cum in this oh- cute cunt?”

“Y-yes.” you mumble, your gasps turning into heaves when his rock-hard cock only expands inside you. Pumping upwards to grow even girthier, it’s like he wasn’t even trying when the curved divot on his weepy head kisses your sensitive spots. When he’s drawing sodden glides across your gummy walls, stuffing you split open until you were just molded to his very shape. “Yes yes please- jus’ wanna- hngh-” Reaching to tug on his dark black tresses, making him hiss. “-jus’ wanna have you c-cum in me before you leave ah-”

Smack! 

But this time, Toji doesn’t soothe over the sting - he doesn’t whisper pretty praises in your ear. Only planting rude spank after spank on your jiggling ass, adding to the bruising way his sharp hip bones rutted against your tender flesh. 

“Well I didn’t say slow down, did I?” you feel him purr dangerously against your ear. All the warning you get before the hand around your neck just tightens, all big beefy muscles on his arm flexing. “Wha’s the problem- said you were g-gonna oh what was it-” And Toji’s craning his head easily to smirk at you, nipping at your lower lip. “-’ride me until I lose my mind?’”

It’s said in such a mockingly higher pitch than Toji’s usual baritone, making your velvety walls just squeeze. Jostling his fat cock inside you until your toes curled, legs weakening. 

Smack! “Faster.”

Your ever-faltering hips have absolutely no choice but to speed up and you moan at the slap! of skin-on-skin. Leaning backwards into his hunched-over figure, his tongue was so smooth. Licking and biting down gently all over your skin when you fucked your hips back just a bit too hard. Just a bit too cockdrunk. Babbling out a drooling ah! ah! ah! as you roll your cunt, trying to suck out something delicious from the ends of his leaky cock. 

“Do it, then. Do it f’me.” he shudders out, and for all the biting tone in Toji’s words he sounded so utterly ruined. Like he was holding back the hitch in his chest, the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Fighting for the life of him to not push you down onto all fours and pound you into these silken sheets right now. “Ride me until I lose my ahh– fuckin’ mind, doll.”

You can’t answer - can’t do anything else but ache for more more more. And his every ridge and bump down his reddened shaft swiveled around you sweetly. 

“Oh.” Soon enough, you hear him titter out a laugh of disbelief, heavy, cum-filled balls tightening. “N’ you better hah- hurry up-” Smack! The possessive hand curling around your throat just drags your bleary gaze to yours and Toji’s bedroom door. Slightly ajar. Moving. “-unless yer beggin’ for double the amount of work.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - DESTRESSER

“Shh shhh…” Nanami’s quieting down your tiny whimpers with a slow, sultry glide of his fat tip down your sopping wet slit. Back and forth. Voice so hoarse and strained when he whispers little praises in your ear, “You got this- hah- you got it, my love. Ride me.”

Shit, those words are hitting straight to your cunt, clenching and sinking down, down, down his swollen cock. Your husband was so big, reaching so deeply inside sweetened spots you didn’t even realize existed. 

“Does it f-feel good, Ken?” you’re mewling. Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, careful to not tip over his chair, “S’it relaxing?”

This was always Nanami’s favorite little remedy - whenever you waltzed into his office room with that too-short skirt and that too-tight silken top that drove him wild. Rambling about how he was being too overworked lately - how you have a solution.

Dragging his soft palm down your spine, Nanami grits back his teeth when you’re moving your hips in slow, shallow little grinds and gyrations. His thick head swirling slowly around your g-spot, thick base spreading your swollen folds gapingly open. 

Ah, this was heaven.

And he says so - a little over a million times into the crook of your neck. Throat shot already, “So pretty- so perfect, my wife-” he’s sighing out. Wrenching away to fixate his eyes on your sweat-sheened figure, the beginnings of that fucked-out expression of yours already on your features. “Y’know…seeing you like this- always makes me wonder what a great mama you’ll be.”

It’s so sudden that your hips are faltering, stuttering down sloppily to thwack! against Nanami’s tight balls. They’re almost bruising against the curve of your ass, and you’re whining into his mouth.

“S’true.” One of Nanami’s hands drapes down to your hips roughly, all five fingers splayed-out and just emblazoning itself when he’s guiding you through each slippery squelch. The other - his right - cradles one of your tits. “I see these- oh-” You watch as he’s attaching his lips around one hardened nipple, so hot. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, ”N’ I wonder how- ngh- s-sweet you’d taste when I fuck a kid into ya, darling.”

“And here-” His tongue skims past with a final kiss on both your tantalizing tits, moving down to where Nanami knew his cock was indenting into the very bottom of your pretty pussy. Where he knew that little nudge- 

“Ah!” Your entire body just jolts when he presses one greedy hand down on exactly where he was hitting at your cervix with almost-scary accuracy, teasing out your cutest keens. “K-Ken not there-”

“Yes there.” he’s cutting you off. “Here is where m’gonna fill ya ahh- all up-”

Just the very thought has his stern cheekbones coloring with red, and you’re so hypnotized by the sight that your hips are accelerating mindlessly. Legs burning, hips aching - but you’re still leaning forward to grind repetitive circular turns, rocking him inside in a way that made sure every inch of your melty walls were being massaged. 

Were being fucked. 

“Mhm- f-fuck-” he’s groaning, head throwing back to nip your lips, until it was all just smeared with Nanami’s saliva. “Ya like that, dontcha? Wan’ me to ohh– give my pretty wife a kid?” Words slurring together with each babbling second, he’s gently taking a hand to your scalp. Massaging your roots while you ride him to fucking insanity, “Answer me, my love.”

“Yes!” you spread your legs even further, knees clacking against the hard plastic of his chair. Blinking away the bleary, cockdrunken tears welled up in your eyes. “Wan’ it- want hngh! Wan’ you to breed me, Ken.”

He can’t stop himself from grazing a sweet, sweet kiss right on your moaning lips - followed very shortly by a mean smack! on your clit. Your shuddering cunt glossing the very tips of his fingers down to his wristwatch in a dripping, hot coat of your honeyed juices. 

And more. 

So much more.

“Wait- Ken that’s gonna- oh-” 

Maybe it was the way that cool wedding band on his left hand burned so starkly against your steamingly hot cunt, maybe it was that forceful push of the very curve of his raw cock into your g-spot - or maybe it was how Nanami just looked at you. Hazel eyes half-lidded, pupils blown, mouth slacking ever-so-slightly agape with your sloshing swivels. Because your orgasm slams into you immediately after, knocking every breath and sentence out of your delirious mouth. 

And he crashes his lips into yours, chuckling at the messy way your pussy was gushing all around him. You feel him drool with every sodden splatter of your juices, squirting until you saw stars. 

When you’re finally pulling away - delicate strings of spit snapping, Nanami chasing hazily after your mouth - all you can peer down is at the way his strict uniform was so soaked now. 

Neat slacks about ten shades darker than usual, and your cunt still wasn’t done - drooling all across in a lewd pool underneath, spreading every time you fucked your self down on his weepy cock. Hell, if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that some of it got on his button-up, too. 

“Squirtin’ all over me, how cute-” Nanami simpers, low and slow. His mouth greedily salivates at the sight, “Can’t believe this-” You’re gifted with another sudden spank on your clit, and he lazily soothes over with a roll of his thumb. “-cute cunt s’gonna have me conceiving our f-first kid in the hngh- office.”

You pant hopefully, still being wrung through the peaks of your high. “Y-you were serious about that–?”

“I’ve never been more serious about a damn thing, my wife.” And he loved how the words tasted on his tongue - almost as much as he loved the taste of his fingers in his mouth, savoring you. Sucking. Eyes twinkling, “So ya better get ready. S’gonna get real relaxing soon.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “So gorgeous…”

It’s just about all that Geto can breathe out right now, all that he can think. Dark eyes half-lidded and boring right into yours, smug mouth sagging open, falling to let out such a loud moan. 

“Ohh-” his brows scrunch together. Jostling around your ravenous body where you were sitting so prettily on his lap, he’s leaning backwards greedily taking in every single inch of you he could see. Purring, “Ya look so fuckin’ pretty like th-this, dontcha?”

All you can do is keen in response, your trembly fingers taking a hold of the back of Geto’s chair to just slam your stinging hips downwards. 

“Feels too- ngh- good Sugu- Could do this forever.” you’re mewling, and he feels you weigh your entire body on top of him. Resting atop those tediously sculpted muscles of his to angle your hips just the way you liked. 

He felt so used right now, and shit - he’s never been harder about it. 

You could feel the way each stuttering ram down Geto’s reddened length left him growing even girthier, stretching out your snug channel even more impossibly open. His rock-hard cock was reaching deeply, kissing sweet, lingering kisses pointedly on the bullseye of your g-spot. Again. And again. And again and again-

“Heh-” his snicker ruffles your hair, dancing two large hands down to your waist. Spreading open those jittering globes of your ass until your ravaged pussy lips were spread so shamefully. And fuck, that heavenly sight was enough to make him gulp. To have his voice pitching a few octaves higher than usual when he hums, “Am I the one g-gettin’ fucked or hngh-” Leaving a trail of syrupy-sweet kisses down your tear-stricken face, “-are you?”

“S-so mean…” you’re jutting your lower lip out in a pout. The very action makes him lick his lips dangerously. “I should j-jus’ hngh- leave you here- to handle the meeting all alone-”

Truly, it’s become something of a little tradition - Geto loved to call it his “good luck charm” - how you milked the fucking soul out of him before every single cult meeting he led. And shit, has it been good luck alright.

“Awww, but you won’t will, ya honey?” His chest rumbles with vibrations, one hand jerking your face upwards to tug on your spit-glossed lips. He’s nodding along to your drunken babbles, drifting your hasty bounces further and further into lazy grinds with his words. “Because you’re my gorgeous lil’ cockslut, aren’t ya?” His words ring headily across your head - across the meeting hall.

Gasping when Geto suddenly shifts his body so that your ass smacked against his muscular thighs with each saturated drag, bruising against his milky muscles. 

“N’ you-” he whispers lowly against your ear, suckling softly on the sensitive spots at your throat. And you feel like such a fucking ragdoll when he abruptly bounces his thigh upwards - and you right along with it. “-are the only fuckin’ reason I stay sane during these f-fucking meetings.”

It’s a hoarse, breathed-out little admission that you barely even hear over those drippingly wet squelches from down below. Geto was fucking up into you unapologetically, eyes revered downwards at how cockdrunken you were moving right now. Sloppy. Depraved.

Burbling out, “Th-then you should really be- hngh!” You swivel your bratty hips down harshly against his heavy, cum-filled balls. They twitch and squeeze with each movement, yearning to just fill you up already. “-nicer to- me-”

Your words are so rudely interrupted by one of Geto’s impatient ruts, which he barely even acknowledges before you tug on his inky hair. 

“Ahh fucking fine.” he’s hissing out, leaky tip just as needy as he was becoming right now. Shit, Geto knew that he was losing control. Becoming irregular. Hasty. “Fine- fine fuck!” 

His long, slender fingers wrap delicately around your throat, nudging your lips in a wet, coquettish graze against his snarl. “Tell me what you want, then.”

Geto feels the way your gummy walls clench around him delightedly, how heated your pussy becomes as you get even more sluttily drenched. Just by this? Shit, he might have to play nice with you more often. And that smile on your face - oh, how gorgeous it was. Making him ram his thighs once more in a powerfully pressurized thrust. “I wan’ a kiss, Sugu.”

“A kiss?” he chokes back a gasp, eyes growing wider. The way you only nod has his high cheekbones flushing pink, humming, “I’ll do you one better.”

It takes only a few more swashing crashes of his weepy tip against your sweet spots before he’s pursing his lips - ready. Only to spit out a thick wad of saliva right onto the middle of your lolling tastebuds. So much - because Geto’s mouth was already watering at each one of your cute whines before this. 

And then it’s not long before you cum. Fuck, honestly you think you’re cumming as soon as that hot stream hit your tongue.

Toes curling, languid hips stuttering, you could only let out moan after moan of Geto’s name. You felt like you were in heaven, his thick cock sinking in and out of you to drag out every bit of your high. Squeezing him so tight-

“Fuck…fuck-” he’s grunting, each one ragged and rough like they were being ripped from his throat. “M’gonna-”

And then you’re feeling so fucking full, whatever snug space your cunt was being stretched out into was all of a sudden being filled out by thick ropes of Geto’s hot, potent cum. It was swelteringly hot filling you up, and trickling in a velvety sheen down the innards of your thighs. 

With a loud groan, Geto fucks it back up until his seed was knocking at your very womb. “Now we can start the meeting.” Mouth attacking yours into a sopping mess of a kiss, barely-open eyes flitting to the bowed group of cult members that sat silently behind you. Waiting. “Dontcha think, everyone?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - One more

“Baby- oh p-please.” You were his girl, his pretty baby - and ah were you driving him crazy right about now. The slow, sultry swirl of your hips around his sensitive cock making stars burst behind Choso’s teary eyes, every languid drag of your cunt down his shaft making it only sob sweltering hot streams of precum. “One more- just one more–”

It was his first time finally having you ride him - or, well, it was a few hours ago. The one thing you hadn’t anticipated was just how heavily addicted your pretty boyfriend would get on it.

“Are you sure, Cho?” you’re humming, but your hips show absolutely zero sights of stopping. And it wrenches out the most broken of whines from him. “If you wanna stop we can-”

“No!” And Choso’s body is moving before his mind, those rosy pink lips of his babbling pussydrunkenly a mile a minute. The soft pads of his fingers dig into the curve of your ass, leaving neat little crescent patterns for him to admire later. 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting, snarling into a messy kiss against your lips. Teeth clacking, drool trailing. Nodding as he just slams your slobbering pussy down his hefty cock. Recklessly. “-need it. Need it so badly, my p-pretty girl– don’t think I ah- got ‘nough yet.”

Yeah, addicted. 

And it’s like he’s just raring to go all over again no matter what his poor, overused cock says. Angrily reddish tip thumping in a low throb! throb! throb! against your spongy cervix, glossing all over your snug channel in milky streams. Spreading in a silken puddle underneath the two of you, it was so wet. 

All it took was the tiniest inch of your cunt swallowing his greedy inches, and that was more than enough to make his twitchy balls just ache to cum all over again. 

Your fingers tangle in his sweat-damped hair, scratching lightly against Choso’s scalp in a way that makes him purr. His sculpted abs ripple when his spine curves deliciously upwards. 

“Are you sure?” you tease, with a light giggle. “Sure you can hngh- c-cum f’me again?”

His mouth waters, dewy eyes flitting down towards the widely-stretched entrance of your cunt. Grazing his fingers lightly across your glistening folds, toying a thick thumb over your neglected clit. He grits out in a raspy, breathy tone, “P-promise- Promise I’ll fill ya up- hngh- I promise, baby just please-” Boring right into your eyes, “-ride me.”

And he was so perfectly fucked when your hips start gyrating back and forth in determined grinds, head thrown with each hug of your melty walls around him. So tight. So harsh that you occasionally revel in the lazy drag of your pulsing clit against those tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

Your jittery legs tighten around his slender waist, and he’s whining contentedly when you tug and haul his hair as leverage to maneuver your bounces. Using him. 

“Y-yeah-” he’s rambling onwards, thumb slicking with a wet sheen of your slick when his fingers draw lewd, unsteady patterns on your clit. “J-jus’ like that. Fuck- m’gonna cum so early- ah think I might jus’ c-cum dry f’you, baby–”

Another sudden clench of pussy makes him smile - it’s humorless, drunken. And you feel it grow even wider when Choso’s craning his head to kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

“Mhm, wan’ you to ngh- cum f’me, please-” Even your moans are dipping into broken territory at this point. The sheer stretch of Choso’s heavy cock making your head spin, your hips stutter, feeling every and any nook and cranny stretched out when he drills his large, rotund head up into you. “Wan’ you t-to cum in me ah- again.”

Choso’s biting down on his lower lip hard enough that you’re almost concerned it might get bloodied. One of his hands reaching up to curl deftly around the headboard, trying for the life of him to not cum already. The other growing feverish on your clit, stroking calculatedly in slow circles that have you gasping. 

“Sh-shit-” you’re leaning downwards so that he can bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Hngh- oh, k-keep up like that, baby, n’ m’g-gonna-”

“Please.” he’s begging out in wet gurgles, tears now streaming down his innocently blushed cheeks. Still so painfully overstimulated from not too long ago, but so hypnotized. Addicted. Mumbling cutely into your ear, “Cum all over my cock.”

And he felt it - fuck, he couldn’t feel anything but it. 

The way your gooey walls hugged around him so tightly - it almost made it difficult for you to slam your hips downwards. But what sort of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t help, right?

So he’s grabbing roughly onto a handful of your ass, just rutting mindlessly upwards like he was out of control. Every surge of Choso’s dick sent white-hot waves of pleasure up your spine, and you could feel the way he throbbed at each smashing nudge into your g-spot. Over and over and-

“Choso–” The way his name sounded on your lips made him just whimper, eyes scrunching shut he grinds his teeth when he bounces his thighs upwards. You cup your hands around his face, forcing him to sneak his eyes open at you. Smiling, “You’re cumming, baby.”

And that makes him gasp, droopingly half-lidded eyes immediately snapping downwards at those milky swashes of seed. The ribbons upon ribbons of cum that overspilled from each sides of your sopping slit. Painting your insides in a sticky white that creams at the thick base of his dick

Just oozing outwards, and Choso thinks he’s cumming blanks at this point. Angry cock streaming out thick loads of nothing, balls clenching so painfully. 

The thought alone makes his jaw sag open, tears staining his taste buds. He’s bawling out, “Fuck- oh fuck, please-” Gulping heavy, heaving exhales, Choso murmurs against your lips. “One more.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Pretty pink ribbons

“You are s-so–” Ryomen Sukuna manages to grit out through his clenched canines, snapping them at you ferally when you only smirk. And he only scoffs, “-gettin’ it.”

You have to bite your lip to hold back that little giggle you knew would only make the king of curses more infuriated - because he looked so unfairly sexy like this. All splayed out on the velvety royal sheets, abs rippling and twitching with each of your tiniest movements, all four hands pinned to the towering bedposts by those pretty pink ribbons he’d bought for you just today.

So many thick, massive inches of his matchingly swollen cocks sunken into your sodden cunt - barely even. And no matter how many times you took him, no matter the fact that you were riding him, he was always too large.

Too stuffed snugly into your tight cunt, until your puffed-up pussy lips were just bulging around his shafts. Drooling a translucent ring down his hardened dicks with each short grind of pressure. 

“Getting what, Kuna?” you moan, with a slight hint of smugness in your honeyed tone. The sultry swivels of your hips slowing down ever-so-slightly until you could feel his needy throbs. The way his weepy heads coated your insides in swelteringly hot precum in angry response. 

And fuck did he love the way our hands slid down his hulking body, hands kneading at his plush pecs. You hear the way that Sukuna hisses under his rasping breath when your nails dig in to his muscles.

“You fuckin’ know it.” he snarls up at you, biting down on one of your nipples jiggling tantalizingly in his face. He sucks and glides his tongue in lazy sucks, eyes drooping up at you. “Tyin’ up the king of curses. I should have ya e-executed for this shit, brat.”

He wasn’t the least bit convincing and both of you knew it. 

Grumbling, he’s leaning backwards, cheeks still hollowed out on your perky tits. Using all those long, long years of battle to just fuck up into your drippingly wet cunt.

Oh, he could get off to just the squelch that follows, the royal chamber just echoing with that sticky staccato of skin-on-skin. Sukuna breathes out a hot puff of air through his nose, teeth pricking at your tender skin. “F-fuck yeah, yer really payin’ for it when I ngh- g-get out of this.”

That maddening jostle of his achy cocks inside you made your head spin. You moan when they bump into one another, thumping veins grazing and massaging against your stretched-out walls. It’s like he was molding you into the very shape of his cocks - one leaky head swiping at your g-spot, the other pressed up so stubbornly into your springy cervix with Sukuna’s change in angle. 

It takes you a few sloppy seconds to catch your heaving breath enough to whine out, “Th-that’s if you ngh! get out.”

And he grins - oh, Sukuna grins that very same grin you’ve seen him bare at those lowly curses he vaporizes in a second - chuckling darkly, “Silly girl.” And then the very bottom of your poor pussy is stamped with a hard push of his hips, branding that circular divot of one of his fat cocks. Then the other. “You think this- ohh fuck- this is enough to restrain me? How cute–”

Then your musing pace is being met with a few of his powerful, pressurized ruts upwards. Obscenely using that stacked position of his erections to drag your puffy clit along his pelvis. Leaving a glistening trail down, down, down to where your cunt was being stuffed gapingly full, stuttering your bounces through.

“Oh fuck-” you’re mewling, tears springing to your eyes at the twin stimulation. Fingers tangling in his innocently pink locks, “Right there, Kuna.”

“Shit- easy on the hair, woman.” he’s rolling his eyes. “N’ didn’t you say you had it a-all under hngh- control? Even fuckin’-” You feel that angry clench of his heavily smacking balls against your ass, the way the headboard ricketed when he tugs on those ribbons once more. “-tied me up for it.”

Only after a few sudden snaps! of Sukuna’s hips do you manage to finally babble out the words, “M’sorry didn’t- hngh-” Your hips are getting so messy now, strained so tightly that you feel like you’ll implode. You’re leaning down to rest your head in the crook of his neck, and he kisses away wetly at your cheek. Huffing out a slight snicker when you reach your hand towards his tied wrists. “I-I’ll untie-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off. “Leave them, I have a ah- another way you can make it up t’me.” 

Even though he trails off, your cockdrunken mind can already piece together what your dear king wants. Sucking in deep inhales when he forces his hips painfully still, forcing you to grind down on him with a disappointed whine. Sultry, slow turns of your hips that have him coated in all your gooey wetness, swirling around those ever-thickening shafts inside until they were kissing your sweetest spots. It makes him tease, breath hot against your ear lobe, “Cum f’me.”

It’s almost embarrassing how on cue you are - stars sparking behind your eyes when you finally cum all over Sukuna’s cock. Your mewls turning into moans, grinds turning into urgent bounces of your drooling pussy down his length. Clenching. Milking him. Over and over through your high - using him. 

Suddenly, two rough hands clasp around your waist, another rolling his thumb ruthlessly to fuck you through your orgasm, and the last just hauling your lips onto Sukuna’s. 

Rosy lips sucking on your tongue is what it takes for you to snap your eyes open and realize - those pink ribbons on the floor, Sukuna’s pink hair tickling against yours, his pink tip poking just enough out of your gummy cunt. As dangerously needy as his smile, words a whimper. “Now, what were ya sayin’ about m-making it up t’me?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up!

Gojo Satoru knew he was cocky, he knew that no one - no one - stood a chance against the strongest. He knew that he was decidedly not about to break just as soon as you pinned him down to his navy blue sheets, drawing a dripping drag of your drooling cunt on his throbbing cock.

And he knew that last bit was a fucking lie.

“Heh, y-you think this will be enough to ah- what was that-” he’s rolling his pretty cerulean eyes, fighting for the life of him to keep them agonizingly open when your hot cunt glissades across his rock-hard shaft in a slow, saturated slide. “-‘absolutely ruined’? Well, love to see the confidence, sweetheart, but-”

His leaky head is peaking just through your glistening pussy lips, barely even an inch being milked up into your plushy walls. 

But then oh, Gojo’s eyes are rolling back to the very depths of his head, breath hitching in an embarrassingly high pitch in his throat. Losing any and all control when his greedy hands drop in a split-second to your waist, helping you ram your taunting hips to sheath his swelteringly hot cock. 

“That-” he’s gasping, eyes narrowing down at your smug smirk. “That was fuckin’ cheating, girl n’ you ah- k-know that.”

“If you say so.” you hum, with a pointed roll of your eyes. 

Gojo feels you gyrate your hips in such a hypnotizing way, a lazy circular roll that has his toned body arching upwards into a perfect bow. All ten fingernails digging into the curve of your hips when you rock against him harder. Rougher. Using him. 

He was so big that even the tiniest of grinds had the rounded end of Gojo’s thickened head crashing into the very bottom of your pussy. Smearing a steamingly hot ribbon of precum across your spongy cervix, he just smiles at the bit of recoil it has. 

So pretty. 

“F-fuck–” Gojo’s hiccuping out, pearly white teeth sinking down onto his bottom lip to stop those whimpers from falling out. “S’that all you ah- g-got? Need help?” Chortling out the most cockiest of laughs that only deepen that cute furrow in your brow, Gojo makes a smug display of strength matching your own cadence. Barely breaking a sweat to rut up into you. “Honestly, pretty, you’ve got to-”

Then you clench - you squeeze. 

Your gummy walls hugging him so tightly - difficult, considering Gojo’s jaw-dropping girth. And after that every bounce of your hips downwards felt like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Stretching out the very deepest of your insides to make him pathetically speechless.

Gojo lets out a husky fuck! fuck! fuck! with each of your calculated movements, and it just leaves his dick aching. Groaning, “You’ve g-got to- hah-” It was too much - he was at the end of his fucking rope - and it’s all that Gojo can do to wrangle your hips into his rough grasp, pinning down your ravenous pace until you slow down your riding ever-so-slightly. “You’ve got to stop- hngh- c-cutting me off sweetheart!” he’s bawling out.

Big, twinkling tears clinging onto his lashes, they flutter with each of your merciless swivels. The curve of your ass massaging his achy balls, your clit leaving his white tufts of hair drenched in syrupy sweet slick. 

It makes you grin. “Well who told you to get ngh- c-cut off, Toru?”

Oh, in that moment Gojo is shoving every long inch of his slender fingers into your mouth, bullying between your bruised lips to swirl around your mean tongue.

“Sh-shut up- Maybe you should take fuck! notes–” He clenches his teeth in a feral smile, and he’s never felt fucking weaker. Not even with a desperate grip on your hips, not even with jujutsu thrumming at his fingertips, at his eyes. Overspilling with each leaky bead of precum being thrusted into your gooey depths. “Sweetheart–”

“Toru-”

At this moment, you’re sure that Gojo’s taking advantage of his inhuman reflexes - because in mere seconds, he pounds his cock upwards with a pained grunt. Fully overtaking your own rhythm to fuck up into you again. And again. And again and again and-

Shit, he could stop. He didn’t want to stop. 

The only thing crackling through his mind being the slight spark of jujutsu drawn out with his poor, overworked cock, and the feeling of you. How badly he wanted more more more-

“Cum f’me-” Gojo’s words come out in an almost-unintelligible puff of feverish breath. Drool dripping from the side of his rosy red lips as you only rode him harder, “Cum while you ride me- please- fuck fuck fuck- I surrender I tell you- hngh! Please c-cum f’me.”

Except he’s the one cumming first, spurting out thick, ribbony ropes of seed - there was so much. And Gojo throws his head back with a dragged-out yelp, choking out broken pants of your name while he cums and cums so hard he thinks he can’t fucking feel his cock.

Can’t tell when the lights burst out, when the tiny tingles from his hands send bolts of electricity down your body - making you crash headfirst into your orgasm, as well. 

That’s when your hips get sloppy, letting Gojo’s seed dribble down in milky swashes. So thick, that you almost think you could count every dredge, sticking your sopping wet slit to the thick base of his cock with each stutter up and down up and down up and down-

You moan around Gojo’s slender fingers - flashes of pleasure making your head spin - and that’s what finally snaps him out of his pussydrunk reverie. 

Blinking his eyes back open, it takes him a few seconds to adjust to the new darkness in the heady room. And only a few more to start up another slight movement of his hips - slow, sensitive - hissing at the burn. Lips wobbling, voice teary when he continues, “Best out of three- or eight?”

“...”

“Five?”

A/N. No, Gojo, not five, you can have me five BILLION times actually. More, even, if society allows me. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[fandom]

Movies

Hi, Barbie.

Barbie

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Goncharov

Nimona

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

Red, White, and Royal Blue

Lord of the Rings -3

Black Panther +24

The Addams Family

The Super Mario Bros. Movie -4

Knives Out

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish

Oppenheimer

The Hunger Games

Avatar: The Way of Water

Guardians of the Galaxy

Shrek

The Little Mermaid +15

Scream -1

Top Gun: Maverick -1

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

Everything Everywhere All At Once +7

Saw +14

Twilight -13

Wendell & Wild

Howl's Moving Castle -6

The Hobbit -3

Five Nights at Freddy's

Enola Holmes

My Policeman

Deadpool -8

How to Train Your Dragon +12

Beauty and the Beast +16

Avatar

Scream VI

Bottoms

Mean Girls +6

Megamind -4

Metalocalypse: Army of the Doomstar

Spirited Away -10

The Batman -38

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

Venom -34

Les Misérables

Encanto -44

Iron Lung

Coraline

The Thing

John Wick

Strange Way of Life

Blue Beetle

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny

Legally Blonde

Frozen -14

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

Ghosted

American Psycho -7

Princess Mononoke

Dune -49

The Princess Bride

Teen Wolf: The Movie

Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith -21

Pacific Rim

Renfield

Shrek 2

Saw X

The Old Guard -29

Nope -47

Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse

Night at the Museum

Soul -26

The Mummy

The Nightmare Before Christmas

My Little Pony: Equestria Girls

Hellraiser

The Lost Boys

The Marvels

Emesis Blue

The Shape of Water

The Menu

My Neighbor Totoro

Shazam -40

Sonic the Hedgehog -66

Pirates of the Caribbean -48

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Elemental

Lilo & Stitch

Fight Club

The Dark Knight

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

The Princess Diaries

The Incredibles

Halloween Ends

The Lorax

10 Things I Hate About You

Heathers

Kung Fu Panda

The Devil Wears Prada

Rise of the Guardians

Birds of Prey

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: too restless to sleep, you spend some time in the main hull. unwittingly catching Daisuke in his scheme to steal some sweetener.

tw: none.

a/n: so hungry I just keep cooking. heavily inspired by @/breadwoo on ao3's one shot.

wc: 1k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

The ship creaked and you could hear the water rush through the pipes. As quiet as the ship was, your ears were picking up on every little groan of the ship, or the rustle of your thin sheets of a blanket as you tossed and turned. You had been on the Tulpar for weeks now, but you still found it hard to fall asleep. Tonight was particularly rough, it just seems your brain wouldn’t stop running rampant. Deciding that you needed to do something, you got out of bed, blanket wrapped around you, and went to the main hull. 

The room was bathed in the navy blue light that shone from the giant screen that was meant to replicate the day and night cycle. Sitting on one of the couches, you mindlessly stared up at the obvious led screen. If this was meant to help with the sanity of the crew, couldn’t Pony Express put a little more effort into making it believable? Not to mention you don’t get any breaks, no weekends, just work day in and day out. You could feel yourself burning out, yet somehow bored at the same time, a confusing combination. 

Sure, you got breaks, and sometimes you and the crew would play board games, but couldn’t you just get one day of no expectations? Just one day where you could rot in bed? No. Sadly if you were to get your wish then the ship wouldn’t run as smoothly, and if the ship wasn’t running efficiently than you, the crew, were useless. 

Your forlorn thoughts came to a halt when you heard a door slide open. Glancing back, you watched Daisuke sneak in, only to jump when spotting you, hands behind his back like he was a child who just got caught doing something wrong.

Stuttering your name, he sent you a strained smile, trying to come off nonchalant, “Heyyyyy, what’cha doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” You murmured, eyeing him wearily. “You?”

“Same,” Daisuke nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah…uh, didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you be.”

“It's okay,” You shrugged, eyes dragging back to the screen. “I don’t mind your company.” 

That made Daisuke perk up, eyes trailing to the kitchen before settling back on you. This hadn’t been his original plan, but he didn’t mind, he also liked your company. So, wanting to get closer to you, he sat beside you, trying to hide the captain's scanner from your view, but you were more perceptive than you seemed (at least at the moment, you looked so cozy all wrapped up with droopy eyes).

“Hungry?” You asked with a smirk, smothering a laugh at Daisuke’s scared expression.

“I-it’s not what it looks like!” He tried to defend, hands waving in front of him. “I just have a really bad sweet tooth and have been dying to eat something other than the usual.”

“Hmm,” You hummed in amusement, your worried mind slowly relaxing in Daisuke’s presence. “What were you gonna make?”

“Make?” Daisuke asked genuinely, blinking confusedly. “I…was just gonna take a sweetener packet or two.”

You broke out laughing, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. The image of Daisuke eating a good sized sweetener packet straight was just hilarious to you. Or perhaps your exhausted brain was making it funnier than it really was…perhaps a mix of both.

“I-it's not that weird,” Daisuke defended, hoping it was dark enough that you couldn’t see his embarrassed blush. You snorted, still cracking up. Geeze, you really needed to get some sleep, this was not that funny. 

“Just straight up sweetener,” You wheezed, hunching into yourself. 

“I didn’t even think of using it to make something,” Daisuke muttered, chuckling as well. You had a point, it was a bit silly, not to mention your laughter was quite contagious. 

“Oh God,” You cackled. “You’re gonna kill me. I’m too tired for this.”

Daisuke elbowed you, both of your laughter ringing out around you, “Okay but can you blame me? Imagine being thrown into a sweetless abyss! It’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on my greatest enemy.”

With your chuckles dying down, you grinned up at your fellow intern, “You’re lucky it was me here instead of Swansea. I’ll keep your little secret safe, but you should probably get it sooner than later. Don’t wanna get caught.” 

“Right,” He nodded determinedly. He hesitated before standing up, sending another glance towards you before heading to the little kitchen area. He had to admit, seeing you laugh so freely caused his stomach to flutter. The other member’s seemed so tense, always in work mode, no wiggle room for fun. Even when he was beating everyone at games the other’s just seemed to get annoyed, frustrated that they weren’t winning. Sure he laughed and joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it seemed unwelcomed. Except you, you always seemed to brighten at his jokes, sending a smile his way or trying to joke back. But now, with it just being the two of you, it felt more intimate, a warm and fuzzy atmosphere, he wishes it could last forever. 

Daisuke was brought out of his thoughts as the sweetener packet appeared out of seemingly thin air. Turning around, he nearly let out a shriek seeing you right behind him, once again chuckling behind your hand, the mischievous glint in your eye making his heart flip. 

“We gotta hurry,” You motioned to the door that led to the captain's quarters with your head. “I think I heard someone coming.”

Sweetener packet under one arm, scanner in the other, the two of you scurried out like little rats trying to hide from the sight of humans. Your smile was infectious, and your muffled giggles weren’t helping. You both were terrible at stealth missions, but managed to successfully get the scanner back in place without being noticed, so perhaps you weren’t all that bad. As you walked back to the sleeping quarters, bumping into the other’s shoulders with knowing grins, Daisuke couldn’t help but think maybe this job wasn’t all that bad.

After all, he had you to goof off with.

[trashmouth-richie]

I feel like I’m really bad at prompts so I’m just gonna go with my “do’s” from costar today…

Stomping. Instant coffee. Cold* shower.

*“Cold” autocorrected to “come” and I almost didn’t fix it, soooo…do with that what you will.

OH MY LOVE.

hoping my slutty choices for this prompt find you well.

18+, no minors, acts of sex, yay.

**peep my little hints at 90s tv and movies—there are 4 🖤

<1k

send me a prompt from this post ! (writers block is killing me !)

Cold beads of water trickle like ice down your body. Making your already pert nipples stand at attention and harden in an instant. 

Cursing the boy you’ve been best friends with since diapers, you turn the faucet off in a quickened haste— exiting the tub in an anything but graceful fashion, stubbing your toes on the way out. 

“Eddie!” your shrill voice is clouded by the throbbing in your foot and the chatter in your teeth. “Did you pay the water bill?”  

One job, the menace had one job— one duty for the small shared apartment, and it was to pay the water bill each month. 

Wrapping yourself in a threadbare towel that had once been a swim towel for an uppity family— you stomp down to his bedroom, kicking open the door with enough rage to channel Jackie Chan.

You should have knocked. Fuck, why didn’t you knock? 

Eddie was naked.

Pale-moon colored ass on display. 

Thigh muscles rippled beneath dark patchwork tattoos, arms that never looked muscly suddenly flexed tight. A veiny hand wrapped tight around a black haired pony tail. Hips, his hips were— fucking, thrusting, pounding. 

His mouth was slack, slick like an oil painting, head back and eyes rolled to squinted ivory surrounded with a colossal woodland of thick lashes.

Sweat coated his brow, dribbling down until it collected on his cupids bow, a salty pooled tease. His rougey lips were spit coated, sheer— glossy— begging for your tongue to taste them. 

Your heart thumped loudly, heat in your core on its own tempo, hot and deep. 

And then you hear it. 

A whimper. Softer than silk, low, whiny, almost sweetly pathetic in its delivery from a deep space in his throat. 

Your cheeks warm, cunt heated like a fire, sirens going off for extreme temperatures. 

Oh—fuck.

His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze for a second. The clouded look of a man being sucked dry took over his normal instant coffee colored irises. Glaucoma esque beauty in the dark swirls, and you wet your lips at the sight of him— at Eddie Munson— resident freak of Hawkins and your best friend. 

Jesus.

Both your lips explicitly mutter words with eyes wild doe like. His going from lazy pleasure to shock. Yours were covered with your palm, the other reaching, fumbling for the door knob. 

Apologizing profusely you suddenly stammer around clearing your throat and trying to leave ASAP. 

The towel around your middle, the only thing keeping you decent, glides to the ground—falling gently like that fucking feather in opening scenes of Forest Gump. Practically in slow motion but still too quick for your blind shut eyes to catch it. 

Fuck.

Pulling with both hands on the knob your heart races to shut the door, not registering that the towel is wedged tight between the frame, making it impossible to shut. 

Shit shitshitshitshitSHIT

With a last feeble attempt of yanking your arms, the latch clicks into place and you beeline to your room with a slam of your door so hard it ricocheted off the walls, making a framed picture of you and Eddie at a Metallica concert fall to the ground, shattering the glass.

What the fuck? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Your heart boomed in your ears, back stuck to the door like you were holding it up. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Eddie naked, pretty sure your entire graduating class saw him naked on more than one occasion. But this?! This was so mouthwatering better than any other time. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin at the burned image of Eddie getting head on your retinas. The two of you had never crossed those lines. Each dating, fucking around it never once crossed your mind what he would be like in the sack, or what his sack would be like in your mouth. 

You’re pleased when you don’t cringe at the dirty thoughts of him— it felt like second nature, like eve seeing adam —lol okay maybe not, but still! What your mind was conjuring up was biblical. 

A giggle surpasses your lips and you wipe a line of drool from the corner of your mouth. Nerves finally settling as your realization hits— who was it?

It wasn’t Sarah, you hadn’t seen her since last fall. Eddie had said she started dating Steve—his comic book “arch nemesis” but in reality another bestie, who spent most of his time wallowing on your couch about Nancy than he did actually going on dates. 

Mary ended up being a virgin—preacher’s daughter, one of seven. He stopped seeing Clarissa after she wouldn’t stop over explaining every single minute detail of her day. Could it be the girl with the green leather jacket? Darla? Daria? 

The horny ache in your belly soured like curdled milk. 

How dare her (whoever she was!) The thought of someone other than you pulling those noises from Eddie suddenly set you on edge. Rage burned through your veins like lightning. Spidering and leeching to your skin. 

The pajamas you had taken off before your shower lay in a heap on your floor and you quickly yanked them on. Muttering to yourself about every vile thing you could imagine about whoever the lucky girl was who currently had a mouthful of your roommate. 

You needed to leave. The clouds of embarrassment eased overhead, colliding with the lightning making a storm brew deep beneath your surface and you be damned if you were going to let the rain fall whilst still in this apartment. 

Keys in your palm you throw open your bedroom door, ready to bolt through your apartment and down to your car— destination unknown. 

You nearly knock him over in your attempt to run. But you’re stopped cold by sweaty bangs, a heaving chest, and the same stupid pair of boxers that had small tears along the elastic from years of wear. 

“Sweetheart…” he coaxed, voice so sugary and laced with tiny shreds of venom it could ice a wedding cake— then strike you dead. 

You had seen plenty of Eddie today, your body screamed for you to leave, but your feet were stuck in the icing, waiting for the bomb to drop. 

Warmth from your cheeks from your shame could keep a trailer with broken windows warm in a blizzard—your stomach flipped— dropped like lead as his next words hit like a bullet. 

“We need to talk.” 

part two

steve tied up

[fhroggy]

Apple Rot: MLP Infection AU - Parts 1-6

Moving my infection au over to tumblr from deviantart! All six written parts are included below, hopefully soon I'll get the time to keep working on this lol

Part One: Introduction

It's cider season at Sweet Apple Acres. The apples are ripe, the barrels are ready, and the ponies are thirsty. It's hard work, bucking down the apples and bringing them inside to press into cider, and Applejack is exhausted. It's hot, and the work she usually enjoys has grown tedious in her misery. She brings the last of the apple buckets inside, coat slick with sweat and hooves dirty and sore. She tosses the bushel of apples in with the rest of them, only to notice a strange apple sitting on top. It's a pale, sickly pink, with oozing black spots. She groans. She'll have to toss it, and thoroughly clean the rest of the bushel to avoid any contamination. But she's just so thirsty. She'll just leave for a moment, just long enough to get a glass of water, then come back and sort through it. She leaves the room, promising to herself that she'll be back before Granny Smith and Big Mac start pressing the cider. 

Applejack has barely left the room when Granny Smith and Big Mac come in to get started. They're both excited for cider season, talking back and forth and keeping only half their mind on their work. Without more than a cursory glance at the harvest, the apples are loaded, the cider squeezed into barrels, and the lot ready to drink. Granny Smith, as always, tests each batch before approving it for sale, and though one of the barrels has a strange sweetness she can't quite place, the taste isn't unpleasant, and the barrel goes along with the others outside, where the line of ponies waiting to buy is over the hill and out of sight. One barrel of cider only supplies about fifteen large wooden mugs, and and while it's impossible to tell which customers happened to get the extra-sweet batch, no one complains, and the Apple family considers the day a rousing success, even if Granny Smith had to go inside early since she wasn't feeling well. 

The Apple Rot has begun.

Part Two: Unwell

As the sun goes down at Sweet Apple Acres, Granny Smith seems to feel worse with each passing hour. It started with a stomachache, just a few hours into their big cider sale. A barely uncomfortable twinge in her gut, something she could easily ignore with interesting enough conversation. She was old, sure, but she wasn't frail. As she thought this, the twinge in her gut became a writhe, a rolling boil of pain and sickness that progressed into nausea, nausea which she could control only long enough to run out of sight of the customers, spitting up apple chunks, cider and froth as her cider samplings and breakfast expelled from her. A violent upheaval like that was enough to get her inside for the rest of the day, leaving her always-honest and always-steadfast granddaughter Applejack to hold down the fort. In the back of her mind, as she crawled into bed, was that the poor girl deserved a day off. Perhaps tomorrow, when she was feeling better, she'd surprise the dear thing with some apple fritters and insist on taking her chores for her. She was old, sure, but she wasn't frail. She could handle the farm work for one day, at least.

As the night wears on, Granny Smith starts to get…flashes. Flashes of…something. An urge in her gut, a need to feed- but on what? The very thought of apples, carrots, and oats makes her want to throw up even more- but she's hungry. Her bedroom floor has become a shallow pool of black, bloody bile, and even still, she's so hungry. She paces the wooden floor, hooves squishing in her sick, a steady growl in her stomach and in her throat, neither of which she can control. The door creaks, letting a sliver of light into the pitch dark room. Her darling Apple Bloom stands on the other side, coming to check on her dear old Granny.

Granny Smith knows what she's hungry for.

Part Three: Stone Content Warning for Violence/Gore/Death

As screams fill Sweet Apple Acres, miles away in Ponyville, Pinkie Pie and her family are none the wiser. In between planning their wedding and keeping up with their event schedule, Pinkie Pie and Cheese Sandwich have taken a few days off to welcome Maud into their home while she visits between geological expeditions. She isn't in town often, not since her promotion to Lead Field Researcher, and Pinkie wants to make the trip super-duper special. How lucky it was, then, that Maud would arrive in Ponyville just in time for the Apple family's cider season! Bouncing alongside the ponies she loves most, she took Cheese and Maud to the farm and bought them each a large mug, sipping from her own and pausing when she notices the strange taste on her tongue. It's...not unpleasant, exactly, but it's a little too sweet, even for her. As it slides down her throat, her Pinkie Sense tingles, and she gets the distinct feeling that she should not have swallowed it. But- it's probably fine, right? Cheese has nearly finished his mug, and Maud's is empty- though she doesn't recall seeing her sister drink anything. Maud gives her a look, stern and knowing, and does Pinkie see a little bit of concern in her sister's eyes? She shakes the worry from her mind. It's fine. She's fine. 

Hours later, now, she and Cheese have been throwing up what seems like buckets of cider, frosting and cake. Maud sits quietly as Pinkie and her fiance take turns in the bathroom, though her poor Cheesie is far worse for wear. He's been positively green in the face ever since they got back, and he's been acting...strange. He's twitchy, and he keeps trailing off when he speaks. The way he looks at her, looks at Maud...there's something in his expression that Pinkie can't place, and she doesn't like it. He's been shut in the bathroom for some time at this point, and she knocks on the door, voice sweet and loving. 

"Cheesie? Everything okay in there?"

He doesn't speak, but she can hear a low growl from the other side of the door. It's obvious that he isn't doing well, she needs to take him to Nurse Redheart. She'll have to talk with Applejack about the cider- she loves her friend, but this is ridiculous! It was clearly an off batch, and the Apples should never have put it out for sale. She's disappointed in them, and worried for her fiance. She opens the door, and before she can get a word out, she hits the ground. 

Cheese Sandwich is above her, eyes milky white, bloody yellow-white bile dripping from his lips. He snaps his teeth at her, trying to bite her, and she's screaming and crying and what's wrong with her Cheesie and why is he hurting her makeitstopmakeitstop- 

And then it does. With a heavy thud, Cheese Sandwich hits the ground, dark blood pooling from the back of his head. Maud stands over him, holding the heaviest stone she could manage. For good measure, she hits him again, and again, mashing him until Pinkie has to look away. She drops the stone on top of him once more, looking to Pinkie. They're both splattered with blood, their eyes wide and afraid as they meet each other's gazes. Maud says the only thing she can think to say. 

"I'm sorry, Pinkie."

Part Four: Help

Fluttershy's cottage isn't far from Sweet Apple Acres. She can see it if she really looks, just barely able to make out the outline of the barn against the horizon line. As far out as the Apples are from town, she's even farther, her cottage so remote that only Zecora lives more isolated than her. She likes it that way- she loves her friends, but, she's also a very introverted and private pony, and thrives best when she doesn't have to worry about the way others perceive her. The only company she never truly minds is Discord's, and even he is free-spirited enough that he often disappears for days or weeks at a time. Other ponies might mind the frequent absence, but, to her, it's nice to get the space to herself. She trusts him, loves him, and is glad for the breathing room. 

She's just thinking about how nice it is to have such a quiet night after the hustle and bustle of cider season when she hears a pounding on her door. It's a loud, desperate sound, and to her it sounds as if somepony is beating their entire body against the wooden door, forgoing knocking in favor of trying to take it off its hinges completely. She trembles next to her fireplace, legs quaking as the sound beats and beats and beats...

"Fluttershy! Open the door, please!" A familiar voice calls, and while Fluttershy has a sense of immediate relief knowing that she's not in any danger, the fearful edge in Applejack's voice puts her on guard. She goes to the door and opens it up, taking a step back as her friend nearly collapses at her feet. 

"Applejack? What's wrong?"

Her friend looks up at her, and Fluttershy gasps. 

Applejack is splattered in black bile and blood, and her eyes are wide and fearful. She's never seen a pony look so afraid, and the expression looks foreign on Applejack's face- Applejack is always strong and brave, what in Equestria could have her so meek and desperate that she needs Fluttershy's help? 

"It's Apple Bloom," Applejack wheezes, barely able to get the words out between catching her breath. "Granny- Apple Bloom- something's wrong with Granny Smith, she's," Applejack shakes her head. "Granny Smith has lost her Celestia-forsaken mind. She was feelin' sick, I told Apple Bloom to leave her well enough alone, but she went in and Granny bit her!" Applejack wipes the blood from her cheek, smearing it across her face. The substance is thick and congealed, and Fluttershy notices absently that she recognizes the smell. She's smelled it before, whenever she found hurt and sick animals that were too far gone to save. It's the smell of death. 

Applejack continues. "Granny just- started tryin' to tear into her, Big Mac got Granny off of her but she's bleedin' real bad and Nurse Redheart is too far away," she's crying openly now, tears cutting through streaks of bile and blood and leaving trails down her cheeks. "I know you take care of the animals, stitch 'em up sometimes, please, Fluttershy, she's my baby sister..." 

Fluttershy cuts her off, voice meek but determined. 

"Okay. Take me to her."

Part Five: Feed Content Warning for Violence/Gore/Death

Twilight knows she's somewhat of a workaholic. She's been that way for as long as she can remember, and though making friends did help her balance her life more, that curious, studious streak never fully left her. She's up late, later than she should be, and she's about to call it a night when she hears a loud banging on her castle doors. She groans. She loves helping the citizens of Ponyville, but, well, it's always something with them. She calls to Spike, who's been helping her find and return books as she's been going through them. 

"Spike, do you mind getting the door? I swear, there's always somepony with a problem that needs fixing...You can take them to the throne room, I'll be down in a sec."

With a nod, Spike leaves the library to go down the spiral staircase and receive their guests. It's only a few seconds later that he screams for her, voice so loud and so panicked that she doesn't even bother running downstairs, using her magic to teleport her to the doors instead. 

"Spike? What's wrong?"

He points to their guests, and Twilight turns her head to see Pinkie and Maud are standing in the doorway, both covered in blood, looking positively traumatized. Whatever they've been through must have been absolute hell, and the moment they lock eyes, they both immediately start yelling for her to shut the door, lock the door, keep them out- 

"Them?" She interjects, looking over their shoulders into the Ponyville streets. She supposes it's a little unusual to see ponies up so late- upon closer inspection, the way they walk is a bit odd, too- they're...twitchy. Their movements are stilted and stiff, lacking in the fluidity that most creatures have. One walks into a wall, and then just stands there, face pressed to the brick and hooves shambling forwards as if they're trying to walk through it. 

A cry in the night snaps all of the strange ponies to attention. Lyra bursts out of her home, screaming and crying for help as Bon-Bon gives chase. She doesn't get far. Another strange pony, Twilight thinks it's Junebug, heads her off and tackles her to the ground, biting into the flesh at her shoulder and tearing it from her in bloody chunks. Lyra is screaming and begging for somepony to help her, her eyes follow the light coming from the palace and Twilight swears that they look at each other- Lyra starts to cry out again, shrieking a pleading "Princess-" before Junebug bites into her throat and severs her vocal cords. More of the strange ponies pile on top of her, Bon-Bon bites into her cutie mark, Clover into her side- and all Twilight can do is stand there and watch. As they feed, she hears sobs, she hears muffled and distorted voices speaking around mouthfuls of flesh, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm hungry," wailing and biting and wailing some more. Once Lyra is nothing but a carcass, they finally pull away from her, and as they finally notice the light from the castle and look in her direction, Pinkie and Maud take it upon themselves to shut the doors themselves, locking and barricading it while Twilight's brain screams at her to get herself together and stop being so useless. 

What is happening to everypony?

Part Six: Sorry Content Warning for Violence/Blood

Apple Bloom doesn't feel good at all. Applejack's gone, promising that she would go get help and that Apple Bloom would be okay, she just has to hold on- but Apple Bloom can feel her strength waning. She's trying, trying as hard as she can to stop her mind from swimming in and out of consciousness, and she's trying to keep the pressure on her bandages like Big Mac told her to before he left. He was supposed to stay with her, but the crash from Granny Smith's room had been worrying enough that he'd decided to check on her, promising Apple Bloom that he'd be right back and to just keep holding her hooves down against the wound so that it wouldn't bleed so much. She's pretty sure he's been gone too long, but she's having trouble keeping track of the time. Maybe it really had only been a few minutes. 

Really, the bite wasn't too bad, all on its own. Sure, it needed stitches and wouldn't stop bleeding, and its position on her neck made it hurt to turn her head, but it was just a bite. She'd been injured worse by farm animals, and she'd always been okay then. And for a little while she did seem okay- but then the fever hit her, and she got dizzy and collapsed, Applejack crying out for her as she hit the ground. Now her small body flipped back and forth between overheating and freezing, her coat slick with sweat. And she was getting...weird thoughts. Thoughts she couldn't control, thoughts that scared her. Images of her turning and attacking Big Mac and Applejack, the same way Granny attacked her. She didn't like it. 

She was jolted from her thoughts when her door creaked open, and a high, lilting voice cut through the eerie silence.

"Apple Bloom? We knocked on the door for ages, and no one answered. I hope it's alright we let ourselves in."

Apple Bloom's glazed eyes slide over to the doorway, where Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are grinning and holding sleeping bags. That's right- they'd agreed to have a sleepover tonight, didn't they? Granny Smith had promised them the last of the cider, and Applejack was going to let her stay up late...in the commotion, they'd all forgotten. She shook her head slowly. 

"Guys, I don't think y'all should be in here. I'm sick, and so is Granny..."

"But you were fine when we saw you earlier," Sweetie Belle cuts in again, approaching the bed. "Maybe you ate something bad? I could get you some water and crackers, that always settles my stomach." She hasn't noticed the bite, with Apple Bloom's hoof over it. She gets closer still, and Apple Bloom squeezes her eyes shut as she gets those weird thoughts again. 

When she looks again, Sweetie Belle is by her side, but she notices that Scootaloo is hanging back in the doorway, looking around nervously. Scootaloo, to her credit, has picked up that something is deeply wrong, her wings twitching as she takes a slow step back. A part of Apple Bloom is relieved. Good, Scootaloo, She thinks, Back up. You'll need the head start. For what, she isn't quite sure. 

Sweetie Belle coos over her, taking on that sugary-sweet caring role that she does when she's trying to be like her big sister. She reaches up to feel Apple Bloom's forehead, and Apple Bloom gets another one of those bad visions. She imagines herself lurching out of bed and biting Sweetie Belle's leg, and when she hears Sweetie Belle scream, she realizes that it wasn't a vision at all. She tastes the coppery blood in her mouth and she's ashamed and afraid but also hungry for more. 

"I'm sorry," Apple Bloom chokes out, eyes wide as she sits up, the bite mark on her neck glistening in the moonlight. "I'm so sorry, Sweetie Belle, I don't know why I did that-"

Sweetie Belle is sobbing now, and Scootaloo just looks at Apple Bloom with wide, terrified eyes, frozen in place with fear. Apple Bloom's limbs are twitching, now, trying to force her out of the bed to finish what she's started, and it's all Apple Bloom can do to hold herself back- though she's unable to stop herself from licking her lips. 

As the screams and cries and apologies fill the house, Apple Bloom can hear a loud thumping and a crash from the far end of the hall, and all the sudden Big Mac is standing there, covered in blood with a shovel in his teeth- a shovel also splattered in blood and black bile. He drops it from his mouth as he takes in the scene, metal clanging against the floor. When he speaks, his voice is heavy and authoritative, and Apple Bloom has never heard him sound so angry and afraid at the same time. 

"Get the hell out of here! Get out of this house and don't y'all ever come back here again!" He yells at the foals, not out of malice but out of concern, and his booming, deep demands have their intended effect as Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo run out of farmhouse and down the road, running home to their warm beds where they can try and forget what they've seen. 

Apple Bloom looks up at Big Mac, and her eyes fill with tears. She has blood smeared around her mouth, and a dark part of her revels in the lingering taste. "I'm so sorry, Big Mac, I don't know what happened, I don't- I'm scared..."

Big Mac looks down at her, his eyes so soft and so sad, and, slowly, he picks up the shovel again. 

[acapelladitty]

the man who would be king

Summary: Working his usual magic at the Iceberg Lounge, Oz slips to the defence of one of his girls after an incident in the club.

Fic Masterlist ☆ AO3

Every king needed a throne to rule from.

Falcone had his office, the set-up of the place so dark and sparse that it was difficult to navigate in the evenings. Hell, even Maroni had designed a special business room which featured a steel table that had been bolted into the ground and bleached regularly to keep the stains from business deals gone wrong from rusting the metal.

But Oz was no king and he needed no throne. His power came from boots on the ground action and a constant flow of motion to ensure that his presence was felt in every corner of the space he claimed as his own. He didn't want to hide away. He wanted people to know his face. To know his name.

Besides, sitting for too long made his foot ache like a whore.

The Iceberg Lounge was his throne and he wove among the crowds like a true man of the people - carefully calculating his patrons, their influence and how many dollars they were going to drink into his pocket after he'd skimmed his cut from the profits.

His little birds were out in full force today and he surveyed the swell of scantily-clad employees as they danced around the floor of the club before heading over to sell marked-up bottles and shots to the pricks who possessed too much money and had ponied up for a seated booth. Sweeping his eyes around, he sought out his favourite little bird of the moment - her choice to wear a vivid reg wig making her an easy target to spot among the clubbers.

His eyes settled on her quickly and his lips instantly snatched back into a snarl as he watched her interact with the table she was serving. From here, he could see that something not great was up. From the clearly guarded way that she stood back from the booth, to the smug look of anger which coated the face of the dark-haired guy who was talking to her.

Sensing blood in the water, Oz picked up pace as he pulled himself over to the unhappy table - weaving his way through the throng of drunken clubgoers with a practised ease despite his troubled gait. Three men, each of them suited to the nines and holding that pompous look that only came from guys who had been born with a silver spoon rammed up their ass, sat around the booth and, as he quickly approached, Oz could hear that two of them seemed content to quietly egg on their friend as he berated his little bird.

"Come sit with us, baby. My friend here has a stiff drink and an even stiffer problem you could maybe help us with," slurring the words loudly, the dark-haired man grasped at her wrist with curled fingers even as she skillfully avoided his touch. "You look like you know what you're doing. Come sit- sit on our laps."

"I'm not a whore." His little bird countered dryly, "You want a fuck? Go out onto the streets like all the other johns. This here's a classy joint."

Only just able to hear her raised words as he approached from behind, Oz smirked at the easy defense of his club and how she stood her ground without fear.

"You think I pay for it? You think I rent whores? Who the fuck do you think i am?"

Pissed off by her words, the man's immediate cut to anger was clear and Oz only just made it to the side of the table as the final question flew from his curled lips. He was not quick enough though as the skinny prick, who was now visibly shaking his fist at his little bird, lifted his hand further and smacked her across the jaw in a vicious, ringing slap.

Without hesitation as his vision bloomed red for a moment, Oz moved with the merciless strike of a cobra as he thrust his hand into the hair of the fucking idiot and slammed his head into the table, ensuring that his face was tilted towards him as it collided with the solid wood.

The guys friends, immediately scared shitless by the sudden appearance of the infamous Penguin in his own club, all remained quiet outside of their muted yells and panicked expressions.

"You put a fucking hand on one of my girls again and I'll cut it off? You hear me, prick?" Oz growled, his grip of the man's hair so tight that he was surprised it wasn't ripping free into his fingers. "You touch any girl in this club and I'll rip your fucking fingers out and feed 'em to your mother!"

His face smushed into the table with so much pressure that his lips were visibly squished and his jaw pressed painfully to the side, the suited idiot spluttered an incomprehensible apology with wide, panicked eyes as his body flailed against the booth.

"I'm- 'm sorry, Mr Penguin. I didn't- I won't do it again."

"Get him the fuck outta here." Oz spat, slamming his other hand on the table - his thick fingers splashing some spilled drink into the eyes of the fucking idiot. He released him at the same time and the man pulled his head up and swiftly stumbled free of the booth. His friends instantly took the warning in stride, collectively standing to their feet and shuffling off towards the exit with sheepish expressions that were reeking with fear.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

Turning to his little bird, he could see that she was shaken up - both by the mild assault and also by his sudden appearance - and he didn't miss the small, almost shy smile that she sent his way as he open watched and fussed over her.

"I'm fine, Oz." She confirmed, her trembling fingers adjusting the edges of the wig that clung to her scalp, "But thanks for that. Those guys have been a pain in the ass all night."

His hand slipped up to rest on her chin, pulling her jaw gently to the side so that he could get a better look at the red mark that was developing at the side of her full mouth.

"All shift, huh? Then go and take an early finish. Your numbers are covered for the night."

"Oz, I'm fine." She protested, her hand coming up to cover his own as she glanced at him with soft eyes, "Besides I haven't made rent yet an-"

Ah.

Dipping his fingers into his inner pocket, Oz snatched free a stack of bills. Visibly marking out an appropriate amount with a practised eye, he stuffed the bills into the small black hip bag she used to hold her cash.

"Landlords." Oz scoffed. "And they say I'm the fucking criminal."

Her gentle hand dropped to follow his and she squeezed his fingers with a grateful expression, "Thank you."

He had always liked her. Even among his other favourites. She was beautiful like them all but she was smart enough to know when to stand her ground and when to play the part she needed to with the punters. Some of the little whispers she had overheard and dropped to him over time had secured him some big deals that cemented his worth in the eyes of Carmine and the family and he wasn't a man to forget his assets.

Plus, she was a hell of a lay. They didn't fuck that much, but the odd night had seen them both hiding out in his office as she spread herself across his desk and gave him something to smile about. He didn't like to mix business and pleasure, the danger of it all the more clear in how Carmine liked to treat his own special ladies after they'd discovered more than he would have liked, but Oz was better than him and he knew how to protect himself.

"Don't mention it, doll." Oz grinned, lips pulling back to show his slightly off-white teeth. "You just keep that kid of yours at school and don't be worrying about this bullshit. How is the boy?"

"Finding it tough." She sighed. "His teacher says there's something up with him, his brain ain't working like it should. Wants him to do some tests about his attention and stuff."

"He's a smart kid. Like his ma."

"Sweet man. Always looking our for us girls." She purred, her hand stroking along the fine silk of his shirt as he straightened to his full height at her obvious attentions.

"You do your bit, sweetheart. All those little bits of information you pick up and feed back to me like little songbirds? Worth your weight in gold."

"You alone tonight, Oz?" Batting her eyelashes at him with obvious intent, Oz couldn't help the flush of arousal that stirred his cock as she continued to rub circles on his stomach.

"Always alone, baby."

"Then show me to the back office and I'll show you something you'll like. Since I've got the night off and all and my sitter ain't expecting me back for another few hours."

Glancing around the pulsing atmosphere of the club as the world continued to spin around him, Oz laced his thick arm around her waist and muttered something so filthy into her ear that even in the flashing, neon lights of the club, he could still see the flush of her cheeks as he led her back to his office.

[campredwood-if]

genres: Cosmic horror, thriller, semi-romance

CALLING ALL LEADERS!

We are very excited to invite you to CAMP RED WOOD! A summer home-away-from home where you'll find plenty of opportunity to learn outdoor skills and form friendships with an amazing cast of people!

Please find attached the application form to join our Camp Counselor team!

Camp Red Wood is a Lovecraftian horror based Interactive Fiction, based upon the Delta Green TTRPG system. You will take the role of a Camp Counselor for the next two weeks, helping not only to entertain a flock of bored children, but also keeping them all sane and alive for the summer! All while keeping your own sanity too, and maybe- just maybe- you'll figure out what is really happening at Red Wood Point Park.

FEATURES

Create your own Camp Counselor; customisation varies from appearance, gender, pronouns and personality; to skills, camp background and counselor role!

Interact with a cast of character, form friendships over your short summer, and maybe even fall in love!

Face the horrors!

YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE

Discover the mysteries of the bay and participate in camp activities!

Die.

ROMANTIC OPTIONS

Drew Winters

HEAD CAMP COUNSELOR

19 . Sagittarius . 5'3

Drew is a young, compassionate and determined lady. With rusty brunette hair, plaited down the side and often draped over her shoulder, she give of the air of someone meant to take the lead. She works well with the campers, creating a fun and enthusiastic atmosphere that we value for a Head Counselor.

Though we've observed that she often has issue with a few of her fellow leaders to the point of conflict, this has yet to be proven detrimental to her ability as Head Counselor.

Tobias "Tobey" Oak

ARTS AND CRAFT-TICIAN

18 . Cancer . 5'9

Tobey is a young, enthusiastic and amenable man. With dirty blonde hair, dyed green with chlorine from his time often in the water. Frizzy and untamed. He is returning for his second year as a leader. Though this time, taking the role of our Craft-tician rather than the Water Sports counselor position he had last year. Tobey is known to be liked by the campers, creating a personal and warm environment that we expect from a Leader.

Though, the boy is known to be quite distracted, and we suspect he is often under influence of cannabis, which we do not endorse, nor encourage.

Joem Masri

HIKING AND SURVIVAL SPECIALIST

17 . Virgo . 5'6

Joem is a new addition to our cast. A carefree, though quiet young man. With dark, silky hair he often has half tied back in a small pony-tail or bun. He has applied for the Hiking and Survival Specialist counselor position, with experience with rock-climbing, abseiling and quite the enthusiasm for our native flora.

For now, we'll just have to wait and see how he is with the campers.

Unfortunately this is, however, his first experience in a leadership position, and it is unclear how he will handle the role with the younger campers.

AND SIX MORE TO COME!

Join us for these two weeks, or one night, and experience enriching opportunities you wouldn't find anywhere else!

* The email is real, send through your application!

[mlpoutofcontext]

[warrioreowynofrohan]

A bit of a theory that I’ve struck on while rereading the start of FOTR. I think there’s something guarding Rivendell besides the Bruinen. I think Elrond has taken a leaf out of Melian’s book.

There are some hints that the distance to Rivendell varies depending on who you are. Frodo starts approaching the Ford in late afternoon; he is in desperate need of healing, and is brought to Rivendell midway into that same night.

In The Hobbit, in contrast, the dwarves and Bilbo cross the Ford of Bruinen in the morning, and the sun is down by the time they reach Rivendell. There’s lot of references to the journey being longer than Bilbo would expect:

They came on unexpected valleys, narrow with steep sides, that opened suddenly at their feet, and then looked down surprised to see trees below them and running water at the bottom. There were gullies that they could almost leap over, but very deep with waterfalls in them. There were dark ravines that one could neither jump over or climb into. There were bogs, some of them green pleasant places to look at, with flowers growing bright and tall; but a pony that walked there with a pack on its back would never have come out again. It was indeed a mich wider land from the ford to the mountains than you would ever have guessed. Bilbo was astonished.

Then there’s Aragorn’s line when Merry asks him how far it is to Rivendell:

“I don’t know if the Road has ever been measured in miles beyond The Forsaken Inn, a day’s journey east of Bree. Some say it is far, and others say otherwise. It is a strange road, and folk are glad to meet their journey’s end, whether the time is long or short. But I know how long it would take me on my own feet, with fair weather and no ill fortune: twelve days from here to the Ford of Bruinen.”

(By the way, it always amazes me, now I’ve noticed it, that the hobbits manage this journey - which Aragorn says would take him 12 days on the Road, with “fair weather and no ill fortune,” in only 14 days with Frodo severely injured, travelling mainly off the Road, and with some bad weather and wrong directions. Some of that’s due to the extremely fast pace Glorfindel sets for the last twoand a half days, but it’s incredibly impressive.)

If anyone should know the distance from Bree to Rivendell, it should be Aragorn, a Ranger of the North fostered in Rivendell, who has probably covered that journey dozens to hundreds of times. And the Road is fairly straight; it shouldn’t be hard for travellers to keep track of the general distance. And also, Aragorn only gives the distance to the Ford, not to Rivendell itself. What if the distance and difficulty of the Road from the Ford to Rivendell varies, based on how well a guest is known. Frodo is the Ring-bearer, in desperate need; he makes it there fast. Thorin & Company are vouched for by Gandalf, but are largely an unknown quantity; it takes them the better part of a day. Someone with hostile intentions might never find Rivendell at all, even after days of wanderings.

[bunniehrtz]

introducing… PINK PONY CLUB!

molly’s new cowboy!sevika au!

this will work very similar to my mama!abby au (which will be returning!), where i’ll pump out some fics myself and will be taking lots and lots of requests!

i’m so excited to share this with you guys, and for us to work on it together. introductory chapter below the cut! enjoy!!!!!!!!! 🤠

the last drop was bustling, just like every friday night. the musk of oak mixed with whiskey filled the air. you turned your nose up at the smell. well, you would, if it wasn’t for her.

every seat was filled, every gap filled with another person and every glass filled with every liquor under the scorching sun. the pluck of the soft banjo being played contrasted with the deep, husky voices around you. one stood out in particular, it always did.

she stood tall. a good 6’2, you thought. you tried to look away, you tried to steer your eyes from her thick thighs clad perfectly in her jeans, the shine of her belt buckle made your mouth water and the way her toned biceps threatened to burst out of her button up shirt was just too much. the shadow of her hat casted faultlessly just over her heavy eyes. the same eyes flicked over to yours, causing you to immediately turn away, your cheeks red hot. you tried to suppress the thoughts of her thick fingers wrapped around the short glass she held with such power, the way you wished and wished it was you instead- “what’s a lovely lady like yourself doing, standing here all alone?”

an unfamiliar, unwanted voice interrupted your vulgar, yet constant thoughts. your arms crossed over one another, your weight being shifted from each leg as you tried to hide how much you wanted, no, needed the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“i’m sorry, do we know each other?” you asked confused, looking up at the man before you. he stood around the same height as yourself, dark auburn hair tousled underneath a dirty hat. the smell that emanated from him was enough to make you physically grimace, your hand quickly covered your mouth to hide a smirk. a bewildered expression plastered on his face, he stutters. “n-no, but we will, darlin’.”

the scoff that left your throat was loud enough to catch sevika’s attention over the jarring music. you were so obviously uncomfortable, it filled sevika with an untold rage and before she realised, her glass was smacked down onto the bar as she shoved people out of her path to get over to you. to save you.

unbeknownst to you, sevika had had her eyes on you since you first strolled in through the saloon doors, three weeks ago. she had been admiring you every night you wandered in, racking her brain for an excuse to talk to you. just like you.

you were taken aback by the sudden feeling of a hat being placed on your head, an arm wrapped around your waist. you should’ve jumped away, should’ve stood your ground. you didn’t. instead, you looked up and gawked at the sight of sevika stood just behind you, the anger present in her eyes as she looked straight ahead into the man’s eyes, a good half a foot above him. he cowered almost immediately, his knees buckled as he leaned oh so casually against the wall. sevika shifted her gaze from his pathetic stance to your confused, glazed over eyes. “we got a problem here, dollface?”

stunned, you shook your head slightly, your mouth opened to speak before being rudely interrupted.

“no problem here, miss. run along,” he gestured his hand as to tell sevika to move from what’s hers. she patted your hip twice before removing her arm from around you, stepping towards the cowardly man slowly. his face dropped and turned a sickly pale as she towered over him, now stuck in the damp, dingy corner of the saloon. your gasp was barely audible over the sound of his incessant begging.

“i- i didn’t know! i didn’t know she’s yours, i promise!” yours? hers? what is happening?

the scene that played before you felt like you were seeing it in slow motion. you watched hazily as sevika threw him onto a table, watching how it broke and crumbled beneath him as she stood over him. her beaten up boot placed on his chest, your breath hitched in your throat as she bent down, her eyes narrowed as she spits.

“don’t come near my girl or my fuckin’ town ever again.”

you’re not sure how, but you found yourself in between sevika’s legs, herself sat on the now empty bar, in the now clear saloon. a warm rag in your hand, soaked in a makeshift antiseptic to clean the small gash she had received just under her left eye. you don’t remember having seen any punches, scratches or anything land on her face, you were not sure what you remember at all. it felt like a dream. she felt like a dream.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice hoarse as usual. you looked at her with raised eyebrows, shaking your head as you scoff.

“am i okay? you’re the one that got into a bar fight,” you joked back, a sympathetic look on your face as sevika winced at the pain of the antiseptic on the open wound.

“he’s a dick. he shouldn’t have talked to you. he shouldn’t have looked in your fuckin’ direction,” sevika muttered, not noticing the way your bottom lip slipped in between your teeth at her anger.

“all done. how you feeling?” placing the rag back into the bowl, you pushed it aside. sevika pushed herself off of her seat, standing tall in front of you. she pretended to not notice the way you tensed as she placed her hands on your hips, quizzically studying your face.

“let me take you out. tomorrow,” she ordered, nodding up at her hat still placed on your head.

“tomorrow…i think i’m busy,” you flashed a faux pout, only for it to be turned into a flustered smile as sev turns you both, your arms now wrapped around her shoulders.

“oh, you’re busy? doing what?”

“well, he said that ‘we will know each other, darlin’, so think i’m booked for tomorrow. so sad,” you jested, mirroring sevika’s smile as she breathily laughed once more, her eyes narrowed and she nods in artificial agreement.

“oh, i’m sure,” she whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your soft lips. smiling against your mouth, she pulled away. she lifts her right hand up off your hip, knocking the brim of her hat down, a snort left her lips as it covers your eyes.

“keep this. looks good on you.”

[tangibletechnomancy]

Doing It Wrong On Purpose: Episode 1 - The Un-Ship

Today's experiment: What happens if I prompt for something, and then negative prompt all the main keywords, plus various synonyms and related words?

The answer: Some gloriously weird stuff.

For example, let's look at a negative cat:

Positive prompt: A cat on a windowsill during a storm

Negative prompt: Cat, feline, felidae, kitty, kitten, animal, pet, windowsill, window, glass, pane, house, storm, rain, water, lightning, thunder, clouds, torrent, downpour, snow, blizzard, wind, windy

Interesting! Let's get a little more fantasy with it and try for an anti-deer:

Positive prompt: A deer in a peaceful flowery meadow, crystals, midnight, fantasy, colorful

Negative prompt: Deer, cervidae, animal, elk, moose, stag, doe, fawn, reindeer, antelope, cervid, antlers, flowers, night, dark, trees, foliage, bloom, stars, night, tranquil, fantastic, vibrant, cool, magic, blue, moon, sky, crystal, stone, statue, topiary, floral, blossom

Between these two experiments, including a few dozen other generations that remain unposted, one thing I can say for sure is that for living subjects, it's a great way to get the kind of anatomical wonk that older models are (in)famous for - and it makes sense why, the model is trying to make something that looks like a certain subject...but once it starts to look too much like it, well, shit, we told it NOT to do that! Break something up! Given that I love that kind of wonk, I think I've found a useful tool for myself.

One more living subject, and let's get even more abstract with our direction here:

Positive prompt: mind horse

Negative prompt: horse, equine, colt, filly, mare, stallion, bronco, pony, mind, brain, thought, essence, psyche, intelligence, consciousness, imagination, dream, soul, visualization, intellect, wit, cognizance

Now let's try something that isn't alive. One thing I love AI for is surreal settings and landscapes - lets try one now!

Positive prompt: A magic palace garden made of crystal and gold

Negative prompt: Palace, magic, crystal, gold, fantasy, castle, estate, stronghold, temple, garden, flowers, plants, blossoms, bloom, blooms, trees, grass, stems, foliage, leaves, greenery, branches, bush, bushes, hedge, hedges, metal, luxury, stone, glass, brass, rose, polished, jewel, prism, courtyard

I then tried to see if, learning from the animal subjects, I could make it more likely to return one of my favorite "mistakes" - making it impossible to discern the point where a water area ends and a sky area begins. I wasn't immediately successful, but I came up with some results I found pleasing regardless-

Positive prompt: Secret hideout in a cave behind a waterfall in the foggy forest on a floating sky island in fluffy clouds

Negative prompt: hideout, camp, campsite, home, abode, house, dwelling, rest, shelter, waterfall, water, cave, grotto, forest, woods, woodland, trees, fountain, cascade, pond, stream, lake, river, brook, puddle, creek, pool, beach, ocean, sea, cloud, clouds, sky, cumulus, cirrus, nimbus, fog, storm, rain, sunshower, falls

It seems that with landscapes it's got a much clearer and more specific "idea" of what a [SUBJECT] without [SUBJECT] looks like; it's more inclined to invent very specific, very consistent unasked for related elements. With the animals, I was tweaking the weight on the positive prompt to avoid getting straightforwardly just what I had positive (and negative) prompted, but with landscapes, I just get... almost something else entirely.

So how about inanimate objects? Let's try a ship, perhaps?

Positive prompt: A huge sailing ship with brilliant prismatic crystal sails on a stormy, turbulent sea of sunset clouds

Negative prompt: ship, boat, sailboat, sailing ship, pirate ship, galleon, ketch, schooner, sloop, cutter, sail, sea, ocean, storm, wind, rain, water, waves, cloudy, clouds, fog, sunset, dusk, dawn, sunrise, twilight, evening

...okay, I'm in love with the un-ship. It truly does manage to consistently give me results that look like, yet entirely unlike, a ship. It is everything I love about AI as a medium. More than that, it is my friend.

At lower positive prompt weights, they only get even more beautifully chaotic.

I want to live on one of these (in an alternate universe where they're geometrically possible and structurally sound, that is).

Failing that, I will be featuring them a lot from now on.

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

[silmarillion-ways-to-die]

"Oh, what are you doing, And where are you going? Your ponies need shoeing, The river is flowing! Oh, tra-la-la-lally Here down in the valley, ha! ha!" – Elves of Rivendell, The Hobbit

“You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it.” – Thranduil, The Hobbit

“May your shadow never grow less (or stealing would be too easy)!” – Thranduil, The Hobbit

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna miriel. 0 menel aglar elenath!" – Elves of Rivendell, The Fellowship of the Ring

"Such is of the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere." – Elrond Halfelven, The Fellowship of the Ring

"Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!" – Elrond Halfelven, The Fellowship of the Ring

"Yes, they are elves, and they say that you breathe so loud they could shoot you in the dark." – Legolas Greenleaf, The Fellowship of the Ring

"And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!" – Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring

"In this phial is caught the light of Eärendil’s star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out." – Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring

"Get thee gone from my gate, thou jail-crow of Mandos!" – Fëanor, The Silmarillion

"...neither law, nor love, nor league of swords, dread nor danger, not Doom itself, shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin, whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh, finding keepeth or afar casteth a Silmaril." – Fëanor and His Sons, Morgoth's Ring

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[frommybedroom]

inspired by this post

Even after he turns in his essay, he can’t stop. It’s not like he’s never written anything before, but those were the silly daydreams of a little boy with his head in the clouds, who dreamed of movie stars and damsels in distress. What he’s doing now is important. What he’s doing now is necessary.

On the third day in a row that he’s late to dinner—so late that Soda has to reheat his plate—Darry says, “What you been writing about, Pony?”

“Yeah,” Soda says, bringing the plate over and setting it down. “You’re always still up when I try to go to bed. I’ve had to replace the batteries in your flashlight twice now. Are you writing another story?”

Pony shrugs. Suddenly, all the words that pour out of him so easily onto the page get lodged in the back of his throat.

How to describe it to them? The urge—to not forget, to hold onto what was. To wring out the words and distill them into a watered-down version of his friends. Those measly words the only things left of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston.

“Hey, Ponyboy, what’s wrong?”

Pony blinks, and Soda’s blurry face peers at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Darry scoot his chair closer to the both of them. Both wear matching expressions of concern.

“I just—” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I just want to remember them.”

His brothers don’t say anything. So he keeps going.

“I—I can’t let them just disappear. They were here. They were real. And now they’re not. And I can’t let what their tombstones say be the only thing people remember about them. They were more than just a date.”

Soda leans over and ruffles his hair. It’s starting to grow out again finally, the natural dark roots beginning to peek through. “Don’t worry about that, Pony. You’ll never forget them. None of us will.”

“Yeah,” Darry agrees. “Dallas and Johnny were family, and family don’t—”

“I can’t remember what Mom’s perfume smelled like,” Pony bursts out. “I don’t remember what her high heels sounded like on the floor or the slight burning smell when she would curl her hair. And I try real hard to remember what it was like waking up and hearing Dad make coffee, but it’s gone. They’re fading. Like they were never actually here at all.” He clenches his fists, and there’s still a faint ache in his wrist. “I’m not gonna let that happen to them.”

He doesn’t tell them that sometimes at night, after Soda’s fully asleep and snoring like some dang bear, he sneaks out of bed and into the closet where they’ve kept Johnny’s clothes folded in a neat pile. Sometimes he holds them, brushing his fingers over the ripped jeans; sometimes he can’t bear to sully them. Which doesn’t even make sense because the shirt’s still got some of Johnny’s blood on it so it’s plenty dirty already, but he still feels like he’ll ruin it if he touches them too much or for too long.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by arms wrapping around him. A moment later, another pair of arms joins the first. And then he’s clutching onto Soda’s elbow and Darry’s forearm, and once again they’re all holding each other.

He wonders what this scene would look like to an observer: three boys in a rundown kitchen with grime caked under their fingernails and wearing clothes that don’t fit quite right. Unwanted tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyelids. A forgotten plate of food sitting on the table. No parents or friends anywhere to be seen.

He thinks they would see grief. And heartache and loneliness and pain. But maybe also hope. Maybe also love.