#also I'm still taking prompts for these so...

[hedgehog-moss]

Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏

Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.

• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:

• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.

• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:

• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.

Also I love this review:

• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)

The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .

• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...

• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.

• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)

• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.

• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.

The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.

Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)

• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)

(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")

• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.

• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:

• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."

• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:

I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.

[saltnsugarbear]

an inch away from more than just friends (18+)

summary: based on the word prompt "I wanted you to be my first" with Carmy!

title from: "Naked In Manhattan" by Chappell Roan

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: beginnings of smut!!! MDNI!! stripper reader (can still be read as gn!), kissing, swearing, teasing Carmy, innuendos left and right, unprotected sex, brief fingering

side note: if anyone wants to yap about Carmy and stripper reader in my inbox after this, please do!!! they're rotting my brain. i love this dynamic <3 I'm actually so excited to post this raahh!!!

Living in New York was expensive.

This is no secret. But the results meant you worked two jobs. One as a bar tender and one as.... An exotic dancer. To put it kindly.

Two night jobs gave you mostly nocturnal habits, but the tips were good. Most of them were in ones and you couldn't exactly pay for everything with a band of dollar bills.

Which is how you ran into Carmy. Outside of a bank. He was lost and you were in a rush to get to the bar.

"Shit- Watch where you're fuckin' goin'!" You hiss as you stumble back, adjusting your bag strap as you steady yourself.

Your first interaction resembled those videos of puppies and senior dogs. You berating him mildly, him knocking you down with a few sentences and you hesitating before going back to nipping his ankles. You're embarrassed now by the way you trailed after him on the sidewalk. You followed this man just because he ran into you on accident.

Carmy has never told you why he didn't yell at you on that day. Why he didn't tell you off for following him through two stoplights. Just like how you couldn't explain why you felt the need to berate this curly-haired stranger in the middle of New York. It also ended up being a pure matter of coincidence when one of your regulars took you to dinner. A dinner that resulted in a kitchen tour that led you back to the man who ran into you.

You stuck around enough to pry a phone number out of him. He was easy to crack, batting your lashes at him and quiet pleading.

He didn't anticipate quite how many notifications you'd wrack up on his phone. He felt obnoxious, being the person whose phone was always buzzing. You were like a labrador chasing at his heels for his attention. Carmy felt bad about when he tried ghosting you. Letting you lead a one-sided conversation for a day.

Just when he thought he'd gotten rid of his distraction, you showed up in the alleyway where he smoked after work. You were already out there when he got outside, leaning against the wall with a cigarette on your lips. That night you managed to convince him to give you a ride to the club after coming all the way out to Daniel to scold him for trying to ghost you.

The first time Carmy pulled up in front of the club, his face flushed bright pink. When you turned to thank him, you couldn't help but tease him over it.

"Aw, Carmen! You didn't tell me you've never been to a club before," You smile at him sweetly.

"Carmy," He says quickly, trying to clear his throat. "Just Carmy is fine."

His words make you hum, watching him as you rest your head against the headrest.

"Wanna come in? Can give you a free dance for the ride," You offer him, smile widening as you watch flush work over his ears and down his neck.

"I uh- I've got to um- I can't I gotta-" He stutters, trying to get out some excuse.

"Fuckin' with you, Carmen," You giggle as you open the passenger door. "You gotta pay for a dance just like everyone else."

You bid him thank you and goodnight after you climbed out of his car, blowing him a kiss through the window as you went inside. And thus started your friendship with Carmy. Although unconventional, you intrigued him. He had never hung out with someone so.... Brazen. Someone so sure about who they were and so different. Someone like you usually trailed after Mikey, fawning over him in hopes he might take you to dinner or to his bed. You were so different from Carmy that it just... Worked.

You brought a different sort of comfort in Carmy. Neither one of you had any expectations for this, and that was enough.

You took to inviting yourself to Carmy's apartment in the beginning before he started asking you over every night. You never expected him to make you dinner but after a few nights of your intrustion, he started asking about your favorite dishes. Started cooking for someone other than himself or a customer.

Which is how you ended up in his kitchen, telling him about your day before work. Complaining about your car that had been acting up and smoking out of the tire well.

"My car's in the shop.." You pout, leaning against the counter, twirling your pen between the surface and your fingers.

"Yeah?" Carmy asks, distantly. He's making you dinner before you have to leave for your shift.

"'S gonna be... Stupid expensive," You sigh, laying your arms on the counter and resting your chin on your forearm. "And Sierra has been askin' for lots of my shifts so I'm not gettin' as much as usual... Gonna be tight between that and rent... 'S my luck though.."

Carmy glances back when you sigh, heart twisting when he sees how your lip juts out with your cheek pressed against your arm.

Carmy tries not to let his thoughts run too wild. Godforbid he messes a good thing up. But it's really hard when you're looking up at him with wide eyes and mouth twisted in a pout. It's easy to let his mind wander to another scenario where you'd look at him like that. Hands resting on your thighs as you sit on your knees, eyes practically begging him to take off his jeans.

He's quick to turn back to the stove, distracting his mind from those thoughts by focusing on what he knew. Food. Not sex and definitely not how you'd look in bed.

Carmy distracts himself with plating dinner. He pulls out two of his pasta bowls and plates up the chicken alfredo you begged him to make for you tonight. Not that you really had to, he would make anything you asked him to. Carmy can hear your hum of excitement as you stand up straight. You've learned to watch Carmy work from the counter instead of trying to help. It just created a bigger headache for the both of you.

Once he's finished plating and puts the bowl in front of you, you give him a quick 'thank you' befire digging in. You carry most of the conversation, making sure to let Carmy know when you wanted his feedback (you learned early-on that Carmy was content to listen, even when you prompted him for a response. He needed to be invited to share his thoughts with you). To anyone else his responses would seem disinterested, but you knew him enough that anything more than a half stuttered few words was good for you.

Carmy does let you help clean up. Letting you pack up the extra food Carmy has started to include so you could take something to your dancer friends or to take home. Carmy focused on rinsing dishes off before putting them in the dishwasher.

You've both fallen into a routine. Once you're both done cleaning, Carmy goes to his room to collect his things for work. You collect your bag from the living room and slip on your shoes and coat.

When you're both ready, Carmy corals you out the door and letting you lead him to the parking garage across from his apartment building. Again the car is filled by your chatter and Carmy's limited input as he drives you to work.

There's a weird vibe when Carmy pulls up to the curb in front of the club. His fingers tap erratically on the wheel and he looks like he's deep in thought. You're about to climb out of the car when he speaks up.

"Y'know, I could um... I could foot the uh, the mechanic bill for ya?" Carmy suggests.

"What?" You ask, turning back towards him quickly.

"For your car... Could pay it off for ya.." He shrugs like it's not a big deal.

"Carm.." You sigh, preparing to turn down what's actually a great offer.

"'S not a big deal promise. You're tight on money and I don't want y'stressin' and risk missin' out on more.." He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It's a moments hesitation before you throw your arms around him, leaning over the center console to give him a hug.

"Thanks, Carm," You mutter in his jacket before pulling away. "Means a lot."

You turn back and open the door before turning back to him. Carmy makes a noise of surprise when you place a quick kiss to his cheek, admiring the light lipgloss stain on his cheek. You climb out before he can say anything, ducking down to peer at him from the sidewalk, "Thank you, Carmen!"

You wave him goodbye as he pulls away from the curb, face bright red and stomach full of butterflies.

He's so fucked.

You hope to God Carmy actually picks up his phone. He usually does but you can never be too sure on Carmy's time on his phone.

You're standing in the alley outside of the club, jacket wrapped around you but it's not enough to warm your legs.

"Hey," Carmy's voice is groggy, making your stomach twist with guilt.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Carm.." You sigh, ashing your cigarette.

"No, what's up?" Carmy cuts you off and you sigh again.

"I uh.... I need a ride.. Guy was bein' a major dick and I... I got mad at him and Angie's sendin' me home early.." You tell him. You hadn't bothered changing before you walked out of the club, only grabbing your jacket before you stormed off.

"Give me ten minutes." Carmy's words are final when he says them. He gives you a moment to object before hanging up.

You don't bother to go back inside to grab your things, running on the anger from your customer and manager. It's less than ten minutes before Carmy pulls up to the curb. You climb in the moment the car stops, missing the double take Carmy does when he sees how much of your legs are exposed. You're too busy taking one last hit from your cigarette before dropping it to the sidewalk. When you turn back into the car, Carmy has to tear his eyes away from your thighs, looking for an opening to pull away from the club. He lets you wallow in silence before it hits you.

"Oh, fuck me," You sigh, leaning against your hand on the door and rubbing at your brow.

"What?" Carmy glances at you briefly before flicking on his turn signal.

"Left my keys in my bag and fuckin'- Left my bag at work and I don't-" You sigh heavily, rubbing your hand over your eyes. "I don't have clothes at your place and I can't get home. I'm such a fuckin' mess tonight, I'm sorry.."

"'S okay," Carmy says, taking the gap in cars to pull into the parking lot.

"Carm-" You start.

"It's okay, really. Just give you some of my clothes and I'll uh- I'll sleep on the couch," He says, eyes scanning for a parking spot as if he didn't just invite you to spend the night.

"I'm not gonna make y'do that, Carmy," You tell him while he prepares to reverse into a spot.

"Not makin' me do anything," Carmy tells you once he's parked in the spot. "Now let's get upstairs cause it's fuckin' cold."

You hadn't noticed before but Carmy's only dressed in sweatpants and one of his stupid white t-shirts. You watch as he tucks his hands into his pockets, trying not to stare at the way how his ass looks and how his thighs fill them out.

"Fuckin' stupid f'not grabbing my pants.." You mutter grumpily, bringing the borrowed jacket tight around you. Carmy huffs a few steps in front of you, taking the opportunity to glance at your legs again. Both of you crowd together as you cross the street and enter the apartment building. The building is warmer, making you loosen your hold on the jacket. Being enclosed with Carmy in the elevator makes you open it even more, making Carmy avert his gaze.

You make it more difficult by tucking in close to him, slipping your phone between both of you to snap a quick picture. He still hasn't figured out he doesn't need to look at the screen. When he looks down at your phone, his eyes catch on the deep cut of your top. His breathe catches in his throat at all the skin there, taking in every inch of it.

Within a moment he tears his eyes away, glancing at the numbers as they ding by. Carmy doesn't pay much mind as you hum next to him, bumping him with your shoulder softly. He's gotten used to your casual affections.

Carmy let's you lead him to his apartment door, slipping past you to unlock the door. You still smell like the body spray you showed him. You kept boasting about how it was vanilla and shea and how much you liked it. One of the girls at work had told you about it, and Carmy mentally thanks her for it. Carmy let's you into his apartment, stepping off to the side to toe off his shoes. You sigh as you step in the space, beelining for the island. You drop your phone and cigarette pack before you start shrugging off your jacket. When Carmy looks up from his shoes he feels like he's fucking buffering.

There's so much skin on display and he has to blink hard to fight getting a hard-on. He's not sure what he was thinking, that you had put on a shirt before storming out of work? With the coat off, Carmy can see where your shorts hug your ass, a little bit slipping out of them. He traces up from there to where your top cuts across your skin, breaking up your lower and upper back. There's something else around your middle, a belt of bead strands that clack when you move around and flash refracted light around the room.

You hum as you step out of your shoes, tweaking a strand of hair as you set your jacket on the counter.

"I can sleep on the couch," You tell him, as you turn around to lean back against the counter. He still cringes as you push yourself onto the counter. Carmy's given up on asking you to not. Now he's kind of grateful for it.

"No, it's fine. You can jus' take my bed, not a big deal. Just for tonight, right?" Carmy has to turn away from you to put his locks in place but he can catch your hum as you kick your legs lightly.

"I guess," You sigh. Carmy shakes his head lightly as he walks past the kitchen to his room. You slip off the counter and follow him, beads clacking as you do.

You're not sure why you're surprised that Carmy's room is bland. The rest of his apartment was exactly decorated until you brought things into it. His bedroom was the one room you hadn't seen yet.

"Boring room, Carm.." You tell him, taking it in before your eyes go to where he's digging through his closet. He gives a short hum in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything. While you wait you cross to the bed, sitting at the foot for a moment before you decide to flop back against the mattress.

"What did-" Carmy starts before he turns around. He cuts himself off when he sees you splayed out on his bed, hands resting on your stomach as you trace patterns on the ceiling.

"What did what?" You ask, turning your head so you can see him. Carmy has to clear his throat, folding the sweater he has in half and then in half again.

"What did that uh- that guy from the club? What'd he do?" He asks, setting the sweater on the mattress before he goes to his dresser. He had to buy it when you told him he can't store his extra jeans in the oven. Mostly because he was using it more now that he had you.

You groan loudly, turning back to the ceiling. "Was jus' bein'a dick! Tried coppin' feels left and right, and when I finally told him to stop being a sleazy jackass he got mad and caused a ruckus about me being an ungrateful bitch and then Angie got involved and well.."

You trail off because after Angie had gotten involved you stormed off and called Carmen. You sigh heavily and Carmy turns to look at you before looking back at his dresser.

"I uh.." He clears his throat quietly. "I don't really have... Any shorts or anything, just like uh.. Sweats, jeans.."

"That's okay!" You chirp, pushing yourself up. You lean back against your hands, tilting your head as Carmy turns back to you. You don't miss the way he pushes his back against the furniture, like he's trying to melt into it.

"This'll do," You grab the sweater, running your thumbs over the fabric softly. Carmy nods and you give him a bright grin. "Be back in like... Two minutes!"

Carmy watches as you duck out of his room and make your way to the bathroom. He crosses to the foot of his bed and sits next to where you had been. He squeezes his eyes shut when he hears the door lock click. He tries filling his head with anything he can to keep his thoughts away from you splayed out on his sheets half-dressed.

It turns out that trying not to think about something only makes him think about it more.

Carmy does everything he can think of. Thinks of Chef Daniel, of the dish he was working on this morning. Of Sugar and how he should call her back. Hell, he even let's his mind wander to his mother. But somehow his mind always turns back to you laying back against his bed.

He opens his eyes quickly as he hears you open the bathroom door and the sound of your beads getting farther. He assumes your putting your things with you jacket in the kitchen. It's maybe a minute before you make it back to the doorway to the bedroom.

You look like a vision in his sweater. It's an old navy-colored pullover, 'Brooklyn' across your chest in fuzzy, white letters.

"Very tourist of you," You tell him, pulling at the hem to look at the words. You glance up just in time to find him rolling his eyes at your words, a soft flush dusting his cheeks.

His eyes follow you as you cross to the bed.

"Needed to get some kind of clothes.." He mutters as you climb onto the bed. He doesn't miss the way you huff, shuffling up to the pillows. When he glances back at you he gets an eye full of your baby pink underwear of your work clothes. His eyes widen before his eyes dart quickly up to your face. You're not paying attention, moving one of the pillows over to rest against the other.

"Carmy-" You start, and he feels like he's been caught red-fucking-handed but you didn't even catch him looking. You turn to sit, legs folded out in front of you. He hums for you to continue.

"Lay with me for a little?" You ask him, like you're asking him to hand you something. Like it's normal.

"What?" He chokes out. You huff, the air from it ruffling your hair.

"Lay with me? Stay a little bit before I go to bed?" You cock your head a little, looking at him with wide eyes.

"And do what?" He asks. He doesn't know why he's fucking asking but Jesus Christ you want him to lay in bed with you and his brain is kind of malfunctioning.

You shrug, "I don't know... Sit and talk?"

Carmy seems reluctant, like he doesn't want to be in the room any longer than he has to. Maybe you crossed a line.

"You don't have to," You start, back pedaling on your offer. "Just usually have some sort of like.... Background noise when I go to bed. But my phones gonna die, don't want to steal your charger from you too, tonight."

"Uh... Sure. Yeah, sure.." Carmy sounds hesitant but he gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed, sitting back against the pillow you left.

You grin at him brightly, curling up against your pillows and tucking your legs under the blanket.

"Tell me about work," You tell him, eyes darting around his face. You always encourage him to tell you about what he does at Daniel, asking questions if you don't know or understand something.

He starts off with reminding you of the dish he did the previous day before coming back to what he did today. You nod along as he describes the menu and the specific dish he had today. You liked watching how animated he could get when talking about a dish.

You let him talk as you rest your head against your hand. You can't help but trace over his features, watching as he licks his lower lip quickly when he pauses. You don't mean to interrupt him.

"Can I kiss you, Carmen?" You ask him softly. Carmy stares at you wide-eyed, mouth open in mid-sentence. His ears are bright pink.

"What?" He blinks a few times.

"Can I give you a kiss?" You say again, like it's the most normal question you could ask him.

"I- Uh- Sure?" He sounds unsure and it makes you furrow your brow.

"Yes or no, Carm," You prompt him gently.

"Yes," He nods quickly, much more sure this time. You give him a quick smile before you're adjusting yourself. You're sitting on your knees now, shuffling forward until they're pressed against Carmy's thigh.

You don't miss how he fidgets and you grab his hand with your left one. "Just a kiss, Carmy."

That's the last thing you say before you bring your right hand to the side of his face and pull him into you. Your lips are soft, is what he first notices. So is your hand. The kiss is chaste and it feels like it's over too soon.

When you pull away, Carmy trails after you, lips ghosting yours as he tries to follow.

"Carm-"

"Please," He cuts you off before kissing you again. Carmy brings the hand from yours to your face, holding you close. You get experimental, turning your head to change the angle. Carmy follows your lead, bringing his hand from his lap to sneak under the hem of your sweater. He pulls at your hip until you get the hint.

Climbing onto his lap gives you the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling at his lower lip gently before you slip your tongue into his mouth. His whine is slightly muffled, letting you explore as you please. His grip on your hip tightens as you lower your weight fully on his lap. You don't miss the tent of his sweats pressing against your lower stomach.

You give an experimental roll of your hips, nudging your core just a little over his bulge. He inhales sharply before pulling away, grabbing for the hand that's holding his face.

"I don't um.. I've never..." Carmy trails off. He won't meet your eye, instead focusing on where his hand is holding your wrist.

"Oh! No, that's okay, baby," You coo softly to him, rocking your hips slowly. "Only ever been with like, two people so don't worry.. Pretty new t'this too."

Carmy groans as you continue to drag your core over the tent in his pants. He drops his head to your shoulder, turning his face so he can press soft kisses to your neck.

The kisses are featherlight as Carmy let's himself get lost in the movements of your hips. He groans quietly into your skin when you slowly pick up the pace.

"I uh-" Carmy starts against your skin. You're quick to slip your hand into his curls, guiding his head back so you can hear him clearly. His face is flushed pink as you look at him.

"I want you... I um- I want you to be... Be my first.." He says ths words softly, his eyes are tracing the skin of your neck, mind wandering to how it would look covered in kisses.

"Carm.." You coo softly, bringing your hand from his hair to guide his gaze to yours. "You sure?"

He nods quickly, eyes flicking between yours. "Please?"

Who are you to say no when he asks so prettily?

"Okay," You giggle softly, bringing him into another kiss. This time Carmy tries taking control, prodding gently until you open your mouth to him. He tries to remember how you kissed him, making you huff before you pull away.

"Don't think too hard.." You tell him, placing a gentle kiss to his chin. You nip softly at his jaw before coming back to kiss him. He lets you take back the lead, letting his hands come to rest against your thighs. You bring your hands to his and lead them under your sweater, resting just over your waistband.

Carmy takes the hint, tracing over the skin he glanced earlier. As if to give him some idea, you slip your hands under his own shirt. You let your fingers skim over his abs, following the light trail of hair up his chest. He inhales when you brush your thumbs over both his nipples, pressing his chest into your hands.

You smile against his mouth, pulling away so you can catch your breathe.

However Carmy takes that as the opportunity to kiss at your neck, ducking to nip at your neck. You whine quietly, slowing your hips down to a stop. Carmy groans when you lift your hips but once he realizes why he's less upset. You tug at his waistband, wiggling it as much as you can without his help.

Carmy helps, lifting his hips and hooking his thumbs in his waistband and shoving them to his thighs. You inhale softly when his cock springs free.

Carmy was humble. To say the least.

He didn't act like he had a big dick. He didn't try to boast about it if he ever got the chance. Blush works it's way down his neck at your noise. You're staring transfixed at his cock like you've never seen something like it.

When you look back up you drag Carmen into a sweet kiss. You kiss him slowly, cradling his face as you drag your clothed core over his exposed head. Carmy whimpers into your mouth, taking your lower lip between his.

He lets you go to catch his breath. He can't think of a time he's been more turned on in his life

"Y-You're panties are so- so wet.." Carmy says between pants. He says them like they're not the filthiest thing to leave his mouth.

"Uh-huh," You nod, placing kisses to his jaw.

"Can I please?" One of Carmy's hands has slipped to your waistband, slowly creeping towards your clit. You whine softly into his neck as he ghosts his fingers lower. You can't help but rock your hips into his hand, letting his fingers skim over your entrance.

"Yes, Carmy, yes." You trace a vein with your tongue. He hooks his fingers into your underwear, already prodding at your hole with two fingers.

"Oh my god," Carmy sighs, pressing his mouth against your hair. His breathing ruffles your hair and he has to shut his eyes at feeling of your slick. He dips his fingers into your entrance, making you bite softly at his neck. He pushes until his up to his knuckles. His fingers reach deeper than your own and the heel of his hand presses delightfully against your clit.

Carmy watches in awe as you pull back from his neck and ride his fingers. He gives a few experimental thrusts that make your jaw drop. After a few minutes of this, you bring Carmen into a quick kiss, tugging at his lower lip.

"Need more, Carm," You tell him, lifting your hips off his hand. Carmy mourns the loss as you reach for his dick. His mourning is short-lived when your fingers encircle him, groaning as you angle his head against your entrance. You sink down slowly, and Carmy feels like he could come with just his tip inside you. He won't, but Jesus fucking Christ.

"So fuckin' warm.." Carmy sighs. He holds your hips tightly, keeping you in place. You put your hands on top of his, squeezing them tightly as you sink lower. His jaw drops open at the feeling of your walls around him. You clench around him gently, pulling him into a messy kiss. He pulls back to breathe when you thighs sit flush to his. Having you seated on his cock alone almost makes him come but he has to tense his stomach to prevent it.

Carmy's head falls back against the wall, chest rising and falling heavily as you sit flush in his lap. You can't help but bring your hands to his face, holding him gently as you take in the sight.

"You're so pretty, Carm.." You tell him softly, soothing a thumb over his cheekbone. You're too distracted to notice the twitch against your walls.

"Don't- Fuck- Don't say that..." Carmy mutters, leaning into your touch.

"Say what?" You're confused, tilting your head to one side with a furrowed brow.

"Call me pretty... Make me fuckin'- fuckin' bust b'fore I can move.." He grunts softly as he adjusts his hips. You squeak when his movements justle you, pressing deeper against you.

"Fuck-" You sigh, ducking your head to the side. You can't help the way your eyes flutter shut, soothing your thumb over his skin to keep you grounded. Once Carmy settles back down you pull him into a slow kiss, taking his lower lip between your teeth to tug at gently.

You roll your hips into his, relishing the way he groans into your mouth. The noise trails into a whimper as you clamp your walls around him, making his hands hold on tight to your thighs. The sound makes your head spin, pulling away to catch your breath and hold Carmy's face back as he tries to chase your lips.

You smooth your thumbs over the curls above his ears, while you collect yourself. Carmy ruts his hips up into you, making you squeal softly at the motion.

"Relax, relax," You pull away to catch his eyes. His pupils are blown wide when he gazes at you, blinking softly. You can't help but smile at him.

"Let me make you feel good.."

[soldearestsoulmate]

Character + Prompt/Request:

Crowe x GN!Reader, Sol x GN!Reader

Angst and drama. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Warnings: cheating(in a sense, since you are with Sol in this moment but end up leaving him for Crowe.)

"I have always loved you."

The room grew deadly silent when Crowe let those words slip out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. Everyone froze in their actions, looking at each other. Then all eyes went to you...As you felt your heart sink and ache at those words, then felt your face heat up.

"...E-everyone?...Can you leave the room for a moment to let Crowe and I talk? Please?"

Everyone nodded to your request and silently left, while one person, one of your bridesmaids gave you a small pat on the shoulder, to comfort you I'm sure. But also, to maybe show pity over such a turn of events on today of all days.

Once everyone was gone, leaving you with Crowe alone in the room. You finally responded.

"Crowe...Don't you think this is too late?" You looked away for a moment, looking into the mirror, seeing yourself dressed in your chosen outfit for this day...A special day. You are to be married to Sol. It was decided even before graduation. That's how fast your love with him grew. Though you couldn't deny, in the end of it all, as much as you loved Sol, and decided to say yes to marrying him...

You still loved Crowe too.

"I thought that too...Until Brittney and the others told me its not too late until you say "I do". So I...God...What am I doing? This is your special big day. I should be here supporting you, wishing you all the best and nothing more. But seeing you like this...Who you're going to spend the rest of your life with...Knowing its not with me...I just..." Crowe frowned deeply, he looked close to crying over this all. He felt too much guilt over his own words now, wished he didn't even come here now.

Yet here he was, before you, letting out a confession that happened in the spur of the intense emotional moment. Now he couldn't even look at you.

"Crowe..." You gently took his face into your hands, making him look at you.

"...Do...do you really mean it? Do you really love me?" You asked, with sincerity as you looked into his eyes, and he looked back, as his gaze softened at your sight.

"I do, always have. From the very beginning." You couldn't help but smile at his words, and he leaned in closer to rest his forehead against yours.

"I love you too, Crowe...I do...

Crowe let out a soft sigh over this, happy to hear those words come from your lips. But also a sigh over what a mess this situation is now for you two.

"But Sol--" You started to add on, though were cut short.

"Leave him." Your eyes widened at his sudden response. He looked at you with seriousness as he took your hands in his.

"W-what?" You felt your face redden at Crowe's sudden brashness.

"You heard me. Let's run away from this place, from him, from everyone. Just you and me, Starlight. I promise, I'll make up for all the times I failed to say I love you sooner. I swear to protect you always, to love, to cherish, to--"

"Whoa whoa calm down, Crowe! You sound like you're proposing to me!"

"...And what if I was? You're not a married person yet...So..."

"Crowe...I'm still with Sol though. I can't just--"

Crowe looked down at your hand, seeing the promise ring still on you ring finger. "...May I then?"

"...I..." You looked at the ring, feeling your heart ache, the thought of Sol crossed your mind. You loved him, but you knew the love would never compare to Crowe...Your love for Crowe outweighed the one for Sol...

So you decided on it, to take the ring off. As if a weight was lifted off your shoulders, a string cut, as you gave your hand to Crowe to slowly take the ring off you. A decision made by the both of you.

"I promise, Starlight. You won't regret this." Crowe's words came out with a love so strong, it could engulf you in any moment you felt. Then the promise was sealed with a kiss, a kiss that one you didn't know you yearned for for so long until this moment.

~💚~

Though in that moment, elsewhere away from where you and Crowe were at. Sol felt a sudden chill run throughout his body, and his expression said it all.

"Sunny? Something wrong? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." Hyugo teased as he tried to help his friend get his suit properly on.

"...No...I just...I need to see Y/n." Sol said suddenly, as he started to leave the room.

"Wait hold up! You can't see them yet! Bad luck you know!" Hyugo tried to stop Sol but Sol only glared at him. Which instantly made him let him go. "...Don't say I didn't warn you, Sunny..." Hyugo let out a sigh as he rested his hands on his hips with a shake of his head.

~💚~

"Then its settled?" Crowe said with a bright smile, as he held your hands tighter.

"Yes...but we have to move fast, and hope no one sees..." Crowe cupped your face in his hands, giving you another but quick kiss.

"We'll be fine, Starlight. I promise. Nothing and no one will stop us now or separate us. I swear to you on that." Crowe really felt sure of this, felt sure your future together would be a happy one...That it'll be so easy to runaway and live happily ever after together.

"...Y/n? Pumpkin?" Both your eyes widened to the sound of that voice...His voice...Then looked over to see Sol at the door, at your only exit. Looking at you with widened eyes, a forced smile planted on his face. While his gaze was a mix of madness and anger. "Oh. I didn't know your friend would join us today. Too bad he won't be around for the ceremony. Since his visit will be cut short..."

Then you saw it, in Sol's hands, a knife. Which made your heart skip a beat and drop, as Crowe stood in front of you to shield and protect you...

Sometimes not everyone gets a happy ending however...

[thought--bubble]

Sweet Boy

Ettore X Therapist Reader

Word Count:2,467

For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)

December 18th - board games and breath play (I know super behind but i'm on vaca now and will catch up)

Smuffmas Masterlist

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings: ETTORE IS A WARNING HIMSELF. (Please no anons this time), DUBIOUS CONSENT, violence, mentions of death, inappropriate behaviour by a professional.

Note: This takes place in the "All of your senses" universe but can be read as a stand alone.

You lift your head from your desk at the sound of chains scraping against the floor, a sound that sends a familiar thrill of anticipation through you.

“Ahh. Ettore. Welcome,” you say, your voice steady, masking the adrenaline that surges within.

The guards on either side of Ettore walk him into the room, their expressions taut with unease. One of them turns to you, concern etched across his brow.

“Where is the chair?”

You smile softly, gesturing toward a plush wooden chair that seems almost inviting if you weren't in a prison. “He will be using this chair today. And please, leave his hands free.”

The guard’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Free? Leave his hands free?”

“Yes. I need his hands free for today’s session. Trust me, that chair is sturdy, and I have our friend Ettore under control.” You relish the way the words roll off your tongue. You had tamed this beast; now it's time to cure him.

The guard bites his inner lip, his face a mask of skepticism. “If you say so.”

Ettore stands silently, his gaze fixed on you. You remember the last session vividly, the way you had taken control. You had come out unscathed, confident in your ability to handle him.

“He's a sweet boy,” you say, your eyes locked with his. The term you had used so brazenly last time. That's how you would keep Ettore submissive.

“Sit, inmate!” the guard barks, kneeling to attach the chains to Ettore’s leg. “Are you sure about this? This chair isn't built for the chains; I can only wrap them around… I’d feel safer with the right chair.”

“Trust me,” you repeat, a trace of impatience creeping into your tone. “After my last session with Ettore, I have complete faith in him. He will behave. Won’t you, Ettore?”

Ettore’s lips curl into a slight smirk, a challenge in his eyes for a brief moment before he stills, masking himself once again. He lifts his cuffed hands toward the guard, waiting for the chains to be released.

The guard hesitates, his gaze darting between you and Ettore.

“Go on. I know what I’m doing,” you insist, waving your hand dismissively.

Ettore’s silence stretches; this should be a warning, but instead, the thrill of control fuels your hubris, tempting you to push the boundaries further.

As the guards step out of the room, the heavy door clicks shut behind them, leaving you and Ettore alone in the dim light. You take a moment to study him, noting the stillness in his posture and the predatory gleam in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken.

“So today I want to try something different… a game,” you announce, leaning back in your chair, projecting confidence, possibly even arrogance.

Ettore lifts an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing at the corners of his lips, but he remains silent, his gaze locked on you. The weight of his silence feels heavy, as though he’s sizing you up, searching for weaknesses. Just as before, you make sure not to show him any.

“The game is called the Ungame,” you continue, your voice steady. “It’s a chance for us to explore thoughts and feelings in a less structured way. It’s about honesty and connection without barriers.”

He tilts his head slightly, intrigue flickering in his bright blue eyes, but there’s also a hint of skepticism. You can sense the tension crackling in the air, a challenge for dominance that hangs between you.

He studies you for a moment, and then, with a slight smirk, he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and simply gestures toward the board in front of you as if to invite you to start.

You inhale deeply, centering yourself as you reach for the game pieces. “Alright, I’ll start,” you declare, moving your piece forward while feeling the weight of Ettore’s intense gaze. You draw a card from the deck and read it with an air of confidence you aren't entirely sure is genuine.

“What makes you happy?” You meet Ettore's cold, penetrating stare; the hunger inside those eyes has you on edge, a feeling you do your best to mask.

Ettore’s expression remains stoic and unreadable, but you notice the way he grips his game piece tightly, knuckles whitening as if he’s wrestling with himself, controlling himself.

“Well… for me, my work makes me happy, my family, a warm cup of tea in the morning.” You look at Ettore expectantly, but he looks back at you with hollow eyes devoid of any warmth.

You feel a chill creep up your spine. “What about you, Ettore? What brings you joy?” you inquire, a sweet smile on your face.

Without hesitation, he responds with a harsh bluntness. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” You repeat back to him, unable to hide your disbelief.

Ettore’s grip on the game piece doesn’t waver as he holds your gaze, his expression cold. “Nothing.”

You swallow hard. Where do I go from here?

Ettore selects a card as he prepares for his next move. He angrily tosses his card down on the game board and sits back.

You pick up the card and read the question aloud, “What do you love the most?”

A minute feels like an eternity as you watch his expression shift, the tension coiling tighter around you both. Then, without warning, he hurls his small game piece across the room, the action explosive and sudden.

“Ettore, calm down,” you respond. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to remain composed. You know showing fear is a mistake. You have subdued him before; you can do it again.

But your attempt at maintaining control proves futile. In a swift, violent motion, he flips the entire game board, sending pieces and cards flying in all directions.

You gather your thoughts as he pants heavily, his jaw clenched tight. “I didn’t mean to provoke you. It’s just a game, Ettore. We can skip the question if you prefer.”

Yet his anger doesn't dissipate. It instead seems to grow; you realize that this isn’t just a question; it’s a wound, and you’ve opened it without preparation.

“Let’s take a moment,” you suggest, your voice steady despite the fear starting to gnaw at your insides. Keeping Ettore under your control is the single most important aspect of your sessions. “We can focus on something else.”

He stays silent, his heaving angry breaths the only sound in the room.

“I have other games,” you state, striving to keep your voice steady, desperately suppressing any hint of fear.

He remains silent, a heavy stillness settling over the room as you rise from your chair, turning your back to him in search of another board game from your bookshelf.

With your back turned, you allow yourself a moment to strategize. You would need to dominate him again. It would be harder this time without the element of surprise, but it is imperative you reassert your dominance.

Ettore rises to his feet with your back still turned to him, the chains around his ankles digging into the skin, but he doesn't care.

Using the table for balance, he steadies himself, his legs still chained to the chair. The carpet muffles his movements, allowing him to creep toward you with a predatory grace, the heavy chair sliding quietly with him.

You sense the shift in the air, a chilling sensation prickling at the back of your neck.

You grab a board game, your heart pounding as you turn to face him, forcing a smile that feels strained. “How about this one? Oh!” You jump back as you notice him right before you, his head tilted to the side.

The realization hits you hard: you’ve underestimated him. The power dynamics have shifted, and you can feel the hunger radiating from him. You step back cautiously, trying to assess the situation, but he’s already closing in on you. He steps closer, sniffing the air like a wolf, searching for the kill. You look down to his ankles. The bottom of his uniform is scrunched up, the skin beneath his chains red and angry.

“Ettore, sit down, or I will have to call the guards back in here,” you say firmly, backing up until the hard surface of the bookshelf presses against your back.

He inches closer, moving deliberately, silence stretching between you. Your pulse quickens as you reach toward your desk, searching for something, anything, that could help you regain control. The phone sits on your desk like a beacon.

Call the guards, you think to yourself, yet for some reason, your physical reaction lags behind. Before you have a chance to make up your mind either way, Ettore lunges at you, tackling you to the ground, the chair smashing against the bookshelf, both Ettore and it descending upon you heavily.

“Ettore! No!” you shout, panic rising in your throat. You can't be at his mercy, for he isn't capable of mercy.

He grapples you to the floor, sliding behind you and wrapping his arm around your neck. “Do you remember what I promised you?” he growls into your ear.

You fight to stay calm, but the reality of your situation crashes over you.

“Ettore, let go,” you plead, the words spilling from your lips in desperation.

His grip tightens, and you can feel the strength of his body pressing against yours, the hard planes of his chest pressed tightly to your back.

“Do. You. Remember?” he growls again. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire. He brings his hand down to the hem of your pencil skirt, sliding the material higher.

“No,” you whimper. Your body somehow relaxes in his grip as your mind screams at you: do not let him have this control.

“When you said you would be gentle?” he snickers, the slow descent of his hand decidedly speeding up, bringing the bottom of your skirt up over your hips.

You gulp audibly. “You…” you close your eyes, your mind reeling. Of course, you remember.

“I what? What did I promise you?” You feel him shift behind you, stretching his legs apart. The creak of the wooden chair breaking through your thoughts. He's breaking loose from the chair, the only thing that could have kept him at least partially subdued.

“That you wouldn't be,” you finally pant out, the sound of splintering wood ringing in your ears.

“I keep my promises.” He shrugs the remnants of the broken chair from off his back, the legs still ominously chained to his ankles.

His free hand makes quick work of his uniform pants, his cock quickly pressing up against your pantied backside.

He doesn't speak again; his movements hurried. With one hand, he brings your panties down to your knees before pulling you up against him and, with no preamble, thrusts into you to the hilt.

You gasp, and he clenches his arm around your neck tighter.

“Shut up. You don't get to talk this time.” He humps into you from behind, his hand snaking between your legs. You think for a moment he is going to rub your clit.

Instead, his hand finds where your bodies are joined, and he sighs in relief.

You can't help but moan at the thought that he wants to somehow enjoy the act of sliding into you twice, with both his hand and cock.

He tightens his arm again.

“That's not quiet,” he growls between clenched teeth.

You gasp for air slightly, your body reacting to his harsh strokes, his hips slapping against your ass.

The heel of his palm rubs against your clit, and you can't help but wonder if it's on purpose or not, or if it just so happens to line up that way while he feels himself pushing in and out of your clenching heat.

He releases the pressure around your throat only slightly before biting down on your shoulder, his hips never slowing their pace.

“They may return soon,” you are able to force out before he tightens his arm around your throat again.

“Call me it again,” he demands, ignoring your earlier warning.

You go to speak but can't; the pressure around your neck is too tight.

“Please,” you hear him just barely whisper as he bites into your shoulder again.

When you try to force the words out, he loosens his hold on your throat, his thrusts growing more erratic.

Your body tenses, whether deliberate or not, the heel of his hand on your pearl, coupled with his deep needy thrusts, has you balancing on the edge.

“Sweet boy,” you whisper.

He groans at the sound. “Again.” He pulls your body somehow closer to him, his thrusts quick and desperate.

“Sweet boy,” you gasp loudly, reaching your hands back and grasping his hips, digging your nails into his flesh. You have to grip something, something to tether you to your physical existence.

You moan as your legs clamp around his hand.

“Cum for me, cum right now,” he growls into your ear, hurling your words from the last session at you with an incredible level of hostility.

The role reversal that should terrify you instead proves to be your undoing, sending you careening over the edge.

As your body clamps around him, he lets go of your throat, instead bringing both hands to your hips, slamming into you with a ferocious intensity.

He stills with a loud groan, his fingers digging into your hips with an intense amount of pressure.

As soon as he's done, he pulls out, rolls onto his back, and pulls up his pants, breathing heavily, eyes to the ceiling.

“The guards, they'll be here soon. We need to figure out how we will explain the chair,” you say breathlessly, reaching to fix your clothes.

He chuckles. “I'm being sent to my death in a few days. It doesn't matter,” he says coldly. “Let them know what I've done.”

“Ettore… I…” You have a sinking feeling in your stomach; of course he's right. He's being sent to die in space; you were the one who signed the authorization.

He chuckles, a sound that is foreign coming from him, as the doors open and two guards rush in, assessing the situation.

One runs to your side as you attempt to say you're okay. How could you explain this without losing your license?

The second guard pounces on Ettore, who doesn't fight back, instead lying limply as he's flipped onto his stomach, his hands being pulled harshly behind his back.

You watch as they rip Ettore up to his feet after cuffing his hands behind his back.

“One more time?” he asks quietly as the guard screams at him to shut up, the other guard calling the nurse to come check on you.

“Goodbye… sweet boy,” you whisper as he's dragged from the room.

[febuwhump]

Honestly making it a ‘vote as many times as you want’ approach took away the joy for me. I wanted to see actual voting not spamming whatever a few people with time to kill wanted. Feels like it’s expanding beyond people who would actually participate. It’s making me want to do this event less. I don’t want to feel like I have to spend hours spamming the options I like in order to give them a shot. Voting once would have made more sense. Or parring the list down and running tumblr polls to cull the list. This just feels immature.

i totally get how you feel and your feelings are totally deserved! this is how i see it:

the poll has always been vote as many times as you want. i've never installed a limit, and historically people have voted more than once. that is how we had the actual, original voter fraud last year, where one vote per person was implied until one user started spam-voting waterboarding in order to get it in. this was funny. it is no surprise that everyone wants to try it this year.

every year we try new things and do different stuff. i don't think the prompt list that comes out of this will be any worse off for people campaigning and trying to get their prompt in; i don't think the community will be either. the members of the community who are invested and deeply involved are the ones spamming for their favourites; the people who aren't are not necessarily not going to do the event. they were always going to see the prompt list and decide based on that - and the prompt list will still be good because the top 100 prompts are all good and i will curate the winners.

the actual voting is never revealed, so at no point historically either was it evident how people voted other than for the top 30. that is done for a reason: i reserve the right to look at the winners and go, no that's got too many repetitive prompts and a few are going to get switched out. this year, people are calling this deserved tyranny. because it's funny.

and your other options aren't bad at all; they just require more work from me, the person with the full time job and multiple hobbies and the likelihood to get burned out on this event too early by doing too much who is the only admin. a single poll and then answering questions is the most viable option for me - if you want to see an event run that way, then you're more than welcome to pick a month and go for it!

i get that it feels immature, but i think that you might be mislabelling people's sincere enjoyment. i don't think there's any harm in people who really want something voting for the prompts they want more than once; just like i don't think there's anything stopping anyone at all from finding out that their prompt isn't on the final list and then writing it anyway

finally, and this might sound harsh but i say it with all the love in the world: you don't have to take part. if you aren't enjoying the way its being run this year, then you don't have to! or you can blacklist the propaganda tag and febuwhump in its entirety until january 1st when the prompt list comes out and then see if its something you want to take part in! not everyone wants to do every part of the event and that's fine!

i'm sorry that you're not having as much fun this year, but i honestly think this method has engaged the community far more than the only-vote-once route did previously, and my goal is to try lots of different things to get the biggest and best turnout. if, in the end, we get less works than we did last year, or less people actually taking part, then i'll reevaulate

and also. what's so wrong with being immature anyway?

[cxffecoupx]

dear santa

lee seokmin + jokingly going up to the santas at the mall and embarrassing the other one wc: 645 warnings: written in a rush to finish the series, seokmin being painfully embarassing author's notes: I'm so sorry I keep posting such mediocre stuff i really don't wish to😭😭 also this should preferably be read before chan's drabble 'wrapping errors'. but I hope you like it <3 winter wonderland masterlist

"i think the store over there has some good gifts," you point towards the store with one hand to seokmin around who you've wrapped your other hand.

seokmin's still in awe over all the christmas decorations done in the mall when you look at him. red sparkling decor hangs from the high roof, glistening when light hits it at particular angles; lights arranged in the figures of reindeers and pandas; arches made of green leaves, with stars dangling at points; santas standing at various places in the mall, talking and playing with the kids that have come to the shopping center.

christmas is in full swing here.

however, you're falling behind because the two of you have spent days procrastinating and postponing buying the gifts for people you're meeting on christmas. like every year, all of you are meeting at seungcheol's place for the big bash he throws regularly, and for you, staying away from your family, they have become a second family to you.

you head over to the shop and look around for a while, contemplating whether to buy the most beautiful things you see there, even though they're basically useless to anyone. you manage to purchase a few presents, and when you're leaving, you notice that seokmin is nowhere to be found.

hands full of bags and gifts, you exit the store, mind wandering just like your eyes trying to spot him in the crowd. couples and families thronged the place, kids walking around with balloons and candies possibly gifted by the santas.

how the hell were you gonna find him?

the thought didn't stay for long when you hear his voice from somewhere, "yn!!"

"minnie?" when you look over though, you instantly wish that you hadn't.

there he stood, a few feet away from you, wearing an exact same white beard like the santa standing near him. the prop looked odd with the rest of his clothes, and his pose suggested that he was clearly losing some marbles. even the santa nearby seemed to ignore the embarassing creature standing near him.

you'd always had the fantasy of him role-playing as santa during sex, especially around xmas, but if this is what it's gonna be, you'd rather take up chastity. seriously.

"yn! wait why are you walking away- YN, c'mere. this is so fun," seokmin calls out to you again, this time louder, and the people nearby follow his gaze to see a shy you, face the colour of a ripe tomato. you could only wish that the ground would swallow you up.

and if all this wasn't enough, your boyfriend decides to laugh in an obnoxious manner, a distinct 'ho ho ho' echoing through the mall even in the chatter of the crowd.

that's when the mall starts playing one of your favourite songs, a song he'd start singing whenever, wherever you were. when you turn around to look at him, you see him already watching you, eyes searching yours for the silent message that comes with the song.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

you walk over to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before taking his extended hand to pull him away from the crowd. you return the beard to the santa with an awkwardness you're sure he understands as well, and return to seokmin, who's now decided to entertain a few kids who'd thought he was santa indeed, and the sight melts away any urgency you'd felt. it replaces with a warm and cosy feeling that slowly settles in your tummy.

"the kids loved me; i make a pretty good santa, don't i?" he asks when he sees you near him.

"i don't know about santa, but you'd make a pretty good dad. now let's get home quick now, we have to wrap the gifts."

prompt by @novelbear; dividers by @adornedwithlight

[chiropteracupola]

the 'smattering' of blood poll option for Teresa?

Kill, girl, kill!

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

[meirimerens]

the bickering habit

[mewkwota]

These two were complimenting each other's moms in OSS, so it made me want to see them talking about their dads. Just the image of them right next to each other sounded so funny to me, like, it's Lan's Computer Nerd Dad and then Geo's Astro Jock Dad.

[necrotic-nephilim]

necrotic whump masterlist

note: as of 10/1/24, i am still writing fics for this! i have about a dozen left in my inbox and this masterlist will continually get updated as i post them.

this is the collection/masterlist for all the fics i wrote based on whump dialogue prompts! none of these fics are on ao3 currently, as the point of them is to be quick and unedited, but if you would like one of these put on ao3 so you can bookmark/download/etc, just let me know and I'll happily cross-post over there! for now, i hope you enjoy all the fics created for these prompts so far! <3

"if i have to force you, i will." [BruDick]

"you're enjoying this, aren't you? freak." [JayTim]

"i think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." [JayTim]

"but why should i let you go when you look so pretty like this?" [JayTim]

"can you two manage not to tear each other apart while i'm gone?" [BruJayTim]

"how else am i supposed to learn if you don't punish me?" [BruJay]

"you wouldn't." [BruJay]

"what is this 'mercy' you speak of?" [TimCass]

"i don't care how much you hate me- you need to eat!" [DickTim]

"how else am i supposed to learn if you don't punish me?" [JeanTim]

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

the x files au where everything is exactly the same except mulder takes home the child neanderthal from the jersey devil episode and raises them as his own

[ikemenomegas]

in light of gojo's unsealing, ive thought about diff cute scenarios

gojo being the type of person to get his mate's phone and snap hundreds of pictures of his face

this would probably never happen given gojo's privacy when it comes to his marriage but in a different world i can see this happening Gojo naming his alpha as "mochi seller' on his phone and Itadori seeing the message pop out from the lock screen and accidentally somewhat outing gojo's rs when he asks him in front of the other students why the mochi seller sent an ily message

the tender moments where gojo lets his infinity down or lets his alpha inside his infinity and he gets to relish in the warmth of their skin

the sappy things gojo's alpha has to sometimes do whenever gojo gets too rowdy and they need to placate him for whatever reason (re: alpha reading a map together with nanami scenario)

gojo sending his alpha a picture of two rocks by the sidewalk with the caption: 'us'

gojo asking his alpha if they would still love him if he was a worm and the alpha saying: "no<33"

Awww! These were really cute anon! Very happy ending which I feel like we're going to need a lot of in the coming weeks...

(Also I ran with it but why is their name "mochi seller" haha)

[Ao3 link for those who prefer chapters]

⬖ Photomaton

"Device storage insufficient, please move or delete files to make room?" you read, nonplussed.

Nobara sighed. "Sensei, I showed you how to do that weeks ago."

"I did do it." You frowned, opening up your files. Why were there so many pictures...

Nobara rolled her eyes at you and beat a hasty retreat when your hand went to your mouth as your face went warm.

There were rows and rows of photos, none of which you had taken.

Most of them were selfies, but some of them were obviously the result of Satoru propping the phone up and attempting to pose for the camera.

He must have been swiping your phone every time you left it sitting out or went to sleep. He didn't rest much, but there were so many, more probably than you'd been able to take in the last five years.

There wasn't much thought for such things when you only saw one another a handful of days every month. The focus had gone to managing the present, not on taking pictures. You'd only really thought to regret it after that terrible Halloween, when you worried you'd never see him again.

Some of the photos framed Satoru inside one of your homes. Others were almost ugly shots, taken way too close, or blurred with motion artifact. There were pictures of him haloed in the night glow of streetlights or washed out in the halogen light of a konbini. There were those made grainy with low light and some that took your breath away because he was nice looking.

Furtively, you looked up but were alone and you silently thanked your student's exasperated impatience. A few of the photos showed just too much skin to be exactly proper.

You thumbed down. The pictures were a story all their own revealing some of what Satoru did when alone and you savored the honesty. You had to keep apart from one another for so long.

The last thing in the camera roll was a video.

It opened with the shuffling sounds and the wobbling display of someone walking. Satoru wound around furniture in the darkened interior of your apartment.

"I'm home. You're asleep right now," he said lowly, "probably won't be later. I don't know how most people can sleep so much." He spoke half to himself, the deep night laying over his words like velvet.

There was the sound of the door to the little balcony opening and then the faint tinkle of the glass bells hanging from the eaves.

"Must be nice," he mused, "you get to miss a lot."

The image on the screen steadied as he rested your phone on the rail. The familiar view of the city resolved as faint golden starbursts of light. The rustling of Satoru's clothing faded until all you could hear was the faint rush of night wind and his breathing.

The video went on for over a quarter of an hour. You scrolled your fingers across the screen. He didn't move, the picture stayed the same. You leaned against a wall and listened to the last few moments, your heartbeat low and slow, your breath in sync with his from some time both here and long ago.

Satoru spoke, amused over the night-sounds:

"Don't delete this. I'll know."

⬖ Daifuku

"Good job," Gojo congratulated his dust-stained students as the veil fell.

Maki and Toge glared while Yuuji gave him a tired thumbs up from where he was laying on the ground.

"Dinner is on me tonight." Gojo ignored their halfhearted grumbling. "Decide where you want to go."

He anticipated a larger than normal ding to his wallet, but they'd earned it (and it wasn't as though he couldn't afford it). Beating this curse was no minor feat and it had been a particularly crafty one, which was why Gojo had gone with them just in case.

The students made noises of acknowledgement with varying levels of anticipation, but to no one's surprise, Yuuji was the first to roll over and dig around for his phone.

He tapped the screen and groaned.

"Sensei, mine's dead. Can I use yours?"

Gojo unlocked it and passed it over without a thought. He wasn't particularly hungry, the kids could figure this out without his interference for once.

"Um, Gojo-sensei?"

"Hm?"

"Why is a "mochi seller" reminding you to stop at the pharmacy and sending you heart emojis?"

With uncanny synchrony, Maki and Toge's heads turned to look at their teacher.

The phone in Yuuji's hand buzzed faintly.

"I love you?" he read, sounding alarmed.

Toge's eyes went a bit wide but a grin that curled a bit too much at the edges and showed teeth took over Maki's face.

"Text back," she said, scrambling to her feet.

With all her quickness, she swooped in and snatched the phone when Yuuji hesitated.

The phone buzzed once more.

"I'll be home by 8:30, probably," she read.

Gojo took advantage of Maki's triumphant look to slip the device from her grip.

"I knew it!" she pointed at him. "I knew you were hiding something."

"Grown ups hide lots of things," he replied blithely. He was confident none of the students could tell that moment had been more like someone walking over his grave.

It was not as though he intended to hide his relationship with you. Hide implied shame, concealment on the other hand had been security and was harder to let go of. There would come a moment when the kids prised the truth from him. He was not about to have that moment with his kids now, or hopefully ever, because they accidentally read his texts out loud.

Maki reached for his phone and he easily tipped out of her way, walking off and heading towards a neighborhood he knew (and the students did not) had a lot of very good restaurants.

He was silently very thankful when the implied threat of no food at all distracted the students. Or at least had Yuuji barreling past Maki and kindly dropping the matter in favor of promising to "only look at the map this time, was there a good katsudon place nearby?"

⬖ Goose Down

Satoru spotted you hunched over a rail with your umbrella open overhead, held in the crook of your elbow.

He could tell from the set of your shoulders that the summer sun was getting to you, despite the cursed tool taking a majority of the pressure off.

Your energy was butter yellow and burnt red and lithium pink, mixing slowly around your body as you slowly cycled power into the umbrella and the short sword held loosely in your hands.

Satoru ducked around a corner and took a peak at your face. Your eyes were closed.

Smirking quietly to himself, he crept around, Infinity a barrier between himself and the world. For just a little longer...

You jumped when he dropped it, nearly dropping your sword and automatically holding the umbrella high enough for him to fit under it.

"Hah-"

"Speechless?"

You gaped at him, mouth hanging open.

He nodded as if you'd just confirmed it. "This is what they don't tell you about marriage. Making someone's heart race is important even after the wedding. We'll probably be together forever at this rate."

You mouth closed and then went a little wobbly.

"It's hot," you finally said, miserably. "And it's too sunny."

He couldn't hold back his laughter as he stepped closer and folded himself around you. Your scent tingled pleasantly in his nose and your skin was warm from both heat and light, like a sun-warmed blanket.

"Oh," you said faintly, "you're cool," and you all but melted against him.

"You could just go inside," Satoru said. "I sent the students off on an adventure. We wouldn't be bothered."

"That sounds nice," you murmured, but didn't make any move away from him.

He didn't either. He didn't feel much like letting go yet.

⬖ Orange Kazoo

Sometimes, you reminded yourself through your already strained patience, Satoru just needed to be left alone to make noise.

For a moment, you considered begging him for just a little peace, but you knew he was doing this for your benefit. Shibata Kin was a difficult pill to swallow.

"I never expected anyone to send Six Eyes to join us."

It was the weakest and most recent of Shibata's barbs. The oily way he said it and the implication that anyone would dare to subordinate Satoru to this boot licker rankled.

Satoru crinkled the package extra loud on a bit of melon bread and smiled. "I was in the neighborhood."

He took a bite, chewed and swallowed while you flipped through the mission report on a clipboard.

You sighed, exhaling your worry, and handed it back. "Let's go then. It looks like all the victims disappeared from the same place so we should start there."

That place was a building that straddled a moderately busy subway station and stacked part of a shopping mall, a cluster of private clinics, and a cram school all on top of each other.

Satoru trailed behind through the store, stopping at kiosks and chatting with saleswomen, picking up and putting down objects.

You could feel Shibata's irritation transform into something far less internal as he turned to you.

"He's like a child," he remarked coolly. "Sure we shouldn't just ditch him? The curse doesn't sound that hard to deal with since I've got you."

When you ignored him, he kept talking.

"He shouldn't even be here," the man drawled.

You shrugged. "Well he is."

Shibata sourly appeared to swallow whatever else he wanted to say. You turned around to see where Satoru had gone to. The thought of being stuck with the bitter other sorcerer was worse than waiting for them to pick their bickering back up.

He waved a stuffed cat in sunglasses at you and nodded eager agreement when you pointed out a cute little sparrow holding an umbrella on a shelf behind him. Sometimes, it was best to just humor Satoru and play along.

When you turned back, Shibata Kin was gone.

Since you were all concealing your residuals from the curse you expected was in the building, you had no idea where he went.

You looked over your shoulder. Satoru was gone too.

Well.

You tapped your fingers over your pocket and then decided to let them go. Satoru always seemed to know where to find you and Shibata had called you here as backup. You should probably go kill what you were looking for before it nibbled on him.

Many fewer curses than you expected lingered in the shopping mall. They were bizarre places with as many secret passageways as an ancient castle. Away from the popular shops and crowds, it quickly grew quiet and the bright gleam of displays gave way to more neglected halls.

On your way, you passed a small bank of capsule machines. You crouched down, and smiled faintly to yourself. Abandoned in the furthest reach of the shopping mall, almost near to where a service entrance lead to another stretch of winding halls and tunnels, the items here were both ancient (by city standards) and ridiculous.

Packages of candy that still held their shine but were likely far past their expiration date sat beside tiny figurines of a frog-shaped toddler in a little red hat. You grimaced back at those and moved on.

Near the end of the row was a machine that sold tiny musical instruments, plastic and paper and probably terrible sounding, but it wasn't expired food or frog children. You stuck a few coins into the slot and turned the dial.

An acid green ball spat out from the slot.

You picked at the latches on its side while you found your way further and further into the little used corridors.

There was a flash of something, like a burst of camera illumination from behind a door on your right.

You slipped through it, pulling your blade free from its sheath at the small of your back, and emerged into a tunnel that looked to be connecting to the nearby subway station. Not far ahead, the darkened path split into two.

You flipped the sword around so its blunt edge rested against your forearm and sprinted, dashing across the intersection.

A blur of motion came at you. As it grazed by, you snatched at that movement and sprang into the air, high enough to crouch on the ceiling of the tunnel.

The curse was a near perfect twin of the one a little ways down the way the attack had come, which should have maybe been your first hint. The one that had come at you was grinning, its face a rictus mockery of a theater mask.

They both sat, crouched like toads. You feinted toward the one that had come towards you, and at the last minute flew down to the other, its mouth bent in a painted looking frown.

It backed up in surprise, but not far enough and your blade nicked through the face, which was hard like dense wood. The air around your other hand shimmered in heat, as you struck for the thing's cavernous eyes.

It emitted a furious, scolding gurgle that almost reminded you of some of the window teachers from high school, and swallowed the burst of heat before it could crackled around it into full flame.

You hardly had time to reinforce your body with cursed energy before you were blasted from two directions, letting the momentum carry you and trying to wrap the more opposing forces and the roaring sound of displaced air into your own cursed energy. But something about it resisted you, and you were unable to absorb as much of the attack as you usually would.

A racking shiver radiated through your body right before you were caught by a broad hand on your back.

"Hi," Satoru said sweetly.

"Hi," you panted, automatic, eyes still fixed on the curse.

"What's going on?"

You looked up at him with incredulity.

Hoisted in his other arm was the limp body of your other companion.

Satoru's head cocked to the side, curious as he looked at the curse.

"I don't know yet. I hit it and then--" the mask of the frowning curse was ash blasted and the notch from your first strike still there, but it was not as damaged as expected.

You regained your footing and stood upright.

"If I give it another go I think I can figure it out."

He tilted his head.

You sized up the two curses waiting outside the reach of Satoru's infinity.

"Oh." You reached into your pocket and handed him the green orb.

"What's this?"

"Dunno," you said with a faint smile. "I got it for you."

"Aww, you shouldn't have."

Maybe not. Satoru thinks gachapon are funny, you should show him the line of machines if you get out of here the same way you come in, then he can choose something himself. You still have a few coins on you.

You flew at the grinning curse, both hands on the hilt of your blade, cursed energy flashing into a point a good six inches out from where the metal itself ended.

You held, crystalizing your own movement for a moment and stared deep into the thing's empty eyes.

It twitched, and then its arm moved and you slashed downward, intending to cleave the limb away.

The blade hit, you knew it did. You were able to dodge the attack you anticipated from the smiling curse. The frowning curse in front of you struck back, almost at the same time.

You pulled on some of the reserved momentum you'd held back in your initial strike and barely twisted out of the way.

You lifted the gleeful cackles of the twinned curses from the air and tried to twist them into a crackling rope of flame to surround the grinning one again. As you had expected, the damage did not seem to completely take and you were forced to duck when a bolt of heat tried to sear your back, culminating in another blast that shook the tunnel and thew you once more.

"That's enough."

Satoru appeared at your side again, pulling you back behind the shield of his power when the curse's retaliation threatened to cut through you.

"This one's a bad match for your technique," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Is it reflecting through the faces?" you asked, catching your breath.

He hummed.

Absently, you realized you could scent the sharp, fresh smell of citrus on his breath - the smell of the biting orange flavored candy you'd shared with him on the train ride here.

"If it reflects yours too--" you trailed off. What you did was firmly in the realm of the "real" and Satoru's abilities were not. If this curse were to reflect back blue, or red, or heaven forbid purple... well you'd never seen or asked up until if Satoru could stop his own techniques. It seemed a tactical oversight in this moment.

Satoru stepped forward.

"Stabilize him," he instructed flatly. He'd tossed Shibata Kin's still body where he had been standing barely a minute before.

The curses had moved closer and pressed together, beginning to meld into one another before your eyes. The damage you had already done was fading further.

You knelt at Shibata's side, shaking back your sleeves. "You know this is going to poison him."

You carefully set two fingers underneath his right collarbone, and three a few ribs below his heart on the left and focused in on the flickers of electricity that powered a human body.

"Oh well." Satoru's grin was a baring of teeth. "He'll get over it better than being dead."

You could sense the arrhythmic flutter of Kin's heart, like the popping scatter of an overloaded lamp, like a fractured version of that flash you had sensed earlier.

"You know he was trying to set you up right?" Satoru asked as he batted away an experimental chunk of rubble the curse tossed his way with a flick of his wrist. The stone was aimed right for the face of the smiling curse and even as it hit, it seemed to bounce back, hitting Satoru's shield and falling to the ground.

You sparked a bit of your energy to pure electricity, sending it jumping from one side of Shibata Kin's chest to the other.

"It crossed my mind," you admitted, murmuring as you concentrated. "But I didn't pursue the thought."

Satoru snorted. Yes, alright it was more likely you'd decided thinking about it too hard was going to distract you from the mission but you were here anyway.

You counted the pulse of electricity between your fingers to your own heartbeat until Kin's matched, or at least matched better than before.

When you pulled your hands away, Satoru cracked his knuckles. It looked like he was going to go in for physical attacks.

"You might need to manage the tunnel," he said.

Yet another reason this was a bad match up, not just for you but for him. Satoru did best in wide open spaces where he had room to move and didn't need to worry too much about collateral damage. Dropping a ton of rock on your heads and collapsing the buildings above sounded like a thing that could happen.

You had barely pressed your hands to the ground when Satoru was off like a shot.

The curse wasn't that strong - a high end second grade or low level first grade at best given that it wasn't itself attacking to provoke a response - but it split into those two halves of itself and reformed again as needed to minimize the impacts Satoru rained upon it or flank him.

Limitless lay against his skin between each strike so he remained unmarked, but the cavernous space still rocked with noise and dust shook from the gaps between tiles. You steadied it best you could, absorbing the oscillations and dampening the noise.

It did not take long for the frowning curse to realize what you were doing and send the smiling one racing for you. With one hand on the ground and one on your sword, brimming with unspent potential, you raised the point.

"Nah ah." This seemed at once to you and the monster charging your way. Satoru appeared in its path and bodily kicked it away.

It did not take long after for the twinned curses to be dispatched. Although the only reason you weren't holding your breath is because you were gritting your teeth with the effort of holding the ground together and trying not to shake apart yourself.

Satoru in motion, in a fight, particularly when physical constraint demanded more of his ingenuity, was always a sight to behold.

He came back to you looking unfairly dewy post exertion, with his hair in a sort of windswept disarray, the fabric around his shoulders bunched up. He shrugged out the wrinkles and dusted off his hands.

Your briefly pressed a hand to his knee after you steadied the last tremor from the ground.

"Thank you."

Satoru tapped his forefinger twice against your temple as he walked by. "A feedback loop between you and that thing would have been very messy."

You stood up, swaying slightly.

Even though Satoru would have happily dragged Shibata to the exit point, you insisted on tugging him upright and at least moving him through the air to a place where the three of you could safely rest and call a car.

You had settled him against a wall and were calling Akari when he finally stirred.

"What happened?" Shibata asked weakly.

You turned around to look at him and from Shibata Kin's tepid expression and the sound of shifting cloth behind you, you assumed Satoru must have copied your movement.

Still, you gave him a faint smile and couched down beside him. He didn't have the strength to move away as you grabbed his wrist and felt his pulse. It was thready, but he'd be good enough to get the rest of the way above ground until an actual doctor could take a look at hime.

"We're all alive," you explained unnecessarily.

Shibata Kin's eyes moved from your face to over your shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and upper lip.

From behind you came a buzzing hum, somewhat approximating a sad tuba. Waa wa wa waaaaaaaa, it trailed off.

Satoru had a the wide end of a grape purple kazoo held between his teeth, his sunglasses already exchanged for the bandages he'd had wrapped around his eyes.

Only just in time, you ducked your face into your shoulder and hid a smile.

⬖ Pet rock

You were walking down some quiet residential street, trying to match the map to the trail of the curse you were tracking. It was not very intelligent, but it had a pernicious little ability to draw other curses to it under the banner of a powerful command. You'd been swatting third and fourth grades out of the air as you chased it, trying to wear down its arsenal.

It wasn't a terribly good strategy however and the thing had been winding its way through side streets to buy time. If you could get in closer, you could chop away at more of its train of screaming fears, maybe get a head start on the main peril. Thus the attempt at navigating and figuring out its destination so you could cut it off.

At least Hirano-san would be happy. Maybe. Culling curses required balance; they were their own little ecosystem. As long as the things aren't eating anyone, a certain amount of apex predators in an area could be a deterrent, like the old practice of putting powerful relics out like roach traps. Have the inevitable critters fight and eat one another rather than their human hosts.

A notification popped up over the map, and then another after it.

You felt your shoulders drop as you recentered yourself with a faint smile.

At your hotel later that night, you recalled that Satoru had sent you a message. You fell onto the bed, wrapped up in the hotel bathrobe.

It was... nice, knowing that someone was waiting at home for you. Or if not at home, he was still busy as ever, out there in the world somewhere, thinking of you. Weirdly normal.

The message was a picture. You blinked up at it. Two little rocks and a flower growing out of a crack in the pavement to shade over them.

>> ?

Almost immediately you saw three dots appear.

<< it's us!

Is it? you thought skeptically, looking at the picture again.

The dots again.

<< You don't think so :(?

Your phone was buzzing in your hand before you had even a moment to answer.

It startled you enough to drop the phone.

Owww

"You took so long to answer. This is photography, are you discouraging my new passion? It could go on a greeting card."

The word salad was meaningless and silly, weightless.

"I dropped you on my nose," you said, eyes closed as you rubbed the spot the corner of your case had hit.

"Were you that surprised by it?"

A pause.

"It's cute." The notion of it and the fact that he'd sent it to you was cute.

"It is cute right?" His voice was bright but not overly loud through the phone, for which you were grateful, already settling into warmth. "The flower is poisonous too."

You curled up on your side and held the phone close. Maybe he'd get lucky and you would find something cute to send back to him.

⬖ Puddle jumping

a/n: You have no idea how much googling I had to do to figure out what the prompt meant. I am not on the tick-tock app lol or, I've found, a fan of this meme... the implication that girlfriends ask useless questions as a rule seems sort of meh. So I mostly kept to my original response to this which was "i don't know what that is and honestly probably neither does alpha"

Satoru was herding you down the sidewalk, occasionally listing one way or the other to get you out of the way of other pedestrians. Sometimes he did it for the simple fascination of how you swayed along by him like you were on a tether. Even while you eyes were all but fixed skyward, you stayed roughly the same distance from him.

It was the first day of sun after days of rain and also one of the first days he had off with you in so many apart. He had been too restless the day before, back off a bad mission that had more to do with the desperate unpredictability of people than the intrinsic darkness of curses. You had not resisted him when he drew you out, stifled by the low clouds and humidity and longing for openness. Even with Infinity blocking the rain, it had felt like being closed in again.

Relieved of their burden, the clouds had gone from iron grey to diaphanous white and pealed up and away in swaths like billowing curtains. This is what you were watching - their retreat from the earth. They had come so low they wrapped around skyscrapers and telephone poles on their back to their usual place.

Satoru watched the drowned earth. You had cut through a tree lined walk. The rich soil was churned and muddy and the long bodies of worms that had been washed out or crawled up were strewn about.

Your and Satoru's steps made no mark as he stretched Infinity over and around the two of you. Neither of you tread upon those blind, waterlogged creatures.

Satoru stepped behind you to allow a cluster of high schoolers to pass and hid a faint wrinkle of his nose as they squealed and ran by, realizing they were stepping on some of the remains.

Your umbrella was folded and carried at your side, and you tilted your head back at him, looking a little sun-drunk. He smiled at you. He could see the reflection of the sky in your gaze.

He adopted a pout, snickering internally as you immediately seemed to regain some awareness and a wary anticipation entered your expression.

"Would you still like me if I was a worm?" he asked.

You blinked at him. "Is this one of those things you learned from the kids?"

He slouched a bit, crowding into your space. "Would you still love me if I was a worm," he wheedled.

"Are you turning into a worm?" you asked, slightly panicked, hand going to his arm as though to check if he was going as wet and floppy as the poor things on the ground.

"I'm going to turn into one if you don't answer my question."

The last of the distracted fog lifted from your eyes as you shook yourself. You took his hand and pulled him close to let another couple pass you on the walk. They inclined their head in thanks.

There was no rush to get where you were going and you tugged him along a smaller path that cut under a row of thick-branched trees so you could walk side by side unimpeded.

"I still liked you when you were a semi-sentient six sided die," you pointed out, smiling slightly.

"It's not the same," he whined a bit, drawing out the words in a sing-song fashion.

"Isn't it? I'm not sure a die eight kilometers under the ocean is more useful than a worm."

"Hmph."

"Although I really hope the worm thing is hypothetical."

"Why?"

"Because with our luck that would mean I'm a worm too."

Satoru huffed a faint sound of amusement. "Nooo. You'd still be some kind of bird." He patted your back. "Don't worry I'll make sure to crawl out late so you can still be in time to eat me all up."

"... Are you propositioning me or telling me to hurry up?"

"Walk faster or I'll step on the backs of your shoes."

You did. The two of you walked faster and faster until you were all but chasing one another out of the park, laughing lightly as you dodged the spots of wet on the ground.

[dewwshi]

@davekatweek 2023, day 7: "beginnings"

(n.) the point in time or space at which something begins.

[coollyinterferes]

*taps mic; a certain gentleman is standing right beside him*

"Good evenin', everyone!! We're back!! Hope you didn't miss us much!"

"It sure hasn't been that long.... has it....?"

Uhhmmm....

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Trans girl Kazuichi x trans boy Gundham

and then Gundham had to get Kazuichi to pull over (I mean they weren't driving that fast and it was the middle of nowhere but you get the idea).

the car is a Datsun 510.