#and 3. i really like it when they’re in a bad place but still sort of trying but in this they’re in a good place and most definitely trying

[imaginarypasta]

can’t wait to be off work so i can read as much ragbros fic as i possibly can. and also maybe write some

[sabertoothwalrus]

here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

[moonstruckme]

It's me once again! Bothering you twice in a day, I'm annoying like that, ha just kidding. But yes James is soooo wholesome, it's crazy how he became my favorite boy. So Mae, I suppose you are super busy because being such amazing writer is no easy job when you have requests coming all the time but, if you have the time, whenever that is, could you write something about James? Like James being so wholesome, the best boyfriend, the fluffiest thing you can think of, maybe something with words or affirmation and kisses and hugs and just very lovely things, feel like I need that. If you can of course.

Hope you are having a very cool weekend and my username is basically my favorite colors and it has something to do with Van Gogh and my favorite singer but this kid knows something, haha it's so funny, kind of serendipitous if you ask me :) love that. Well, I'm going to set you free, read you soon.

P.S. Sorry this was so loonng

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!! Sorry this took so long lol, I had to wait until I had an idea that wasn't already in my requests but I appreciate your patience! This is perhaps more hurt/comfort than straight fluff lol, but he is the most wholesome ever <3

cw: concussion

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 603 words

James’ hand is especially gentle as he strokes over your hair. Your nose dents into his thigh, and his jeans are coarse and scratchy but the slight pressure is nice. 

“Still dizzy?” he asks, carefully quiet. 

“A little.” Your own voice is thin, fraught. “Not as bad.” 

He sighs, and you feel too weird to decipher whether it’s in relief or dismay. “I’m sorry, angel.” He lifts one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the side. “Is it hurting in any one place?” 

“It’s my whole face. But most in my forehead.” 

James’ touch is featherlight, ghosting over the spot where you’d smacked your head on the stairs. “Here?” 

“Mhm.” 

He makes a worried humming sound in response. You sit in silence for some time, and it’s not uncomfortable, but nothing is comfortable for you right now. You feel terrible, unlike yourself and unsettled because of that and also weepy but not as much as you are embarrassed. And dwelling upon any of this for too long makes your head spin worse. You don’t think you’re dying though it feels like you might be. 

The warm bead rolling down your nose brings you to the realization that you’re crying. James’ coo follows a moment later, and his hand splays protectively atop your head. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Do you feel alright to sit up?” 

“Okay,” you mumble. 

He does the work for you, though it’s hard to keep track of the movements. One second your head is on his lap and the next you’re propped against his chest, one muscled arm supporting your back while James rests his lips against your forehead. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

“I don’t really feel like going to dinner anymore,” you admit, tasting salt as a tear finds its way into your mouth. 

“Oh,” James lifts his lips to look you in the eyes, “honey, I didn’t expect you to. I’m going to call Remus and cancel in a minute, okay?” He brushes a lock of hair away from your face with his pinkie finger, stroking a sweet line down your cheek. “If you go anywhere, it should probably be to the doctor.” 

“No.” You close your eyes, too upset to care about the low whine that escapes you. “What’re they gonna do?” 

“I don’t know, baby.” James traces the same line again. “They might want to do an MRI or something. I’ve had a concussion before, they’re serious business.” 

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. The material of his jumper is soft beneath your cheek. “I can’t think about it right now.” 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Okay. Okay, we can talk about it tomorrow, if it’s still bad then.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” James’ arm wraps around your middle, squeezing lightly in a gentle sort of hug. You think that he’s being very careful with you, which you appreciate. You don’t imagine you could handle much more sensation at the moment. “I know it sucks, angel, and you’re handling it so well. We’re gonna do our best to get you feeling better. I love you so much, you know?” 

You feel like you might cry again. You don’t think you have the energy to stop yourself. “I know,” you tell him. “I love you so much, too.” 

“Heaps and heaps.” He gives you another little squeeze, his ability to repress his affection tenuous at best. “Probably the most anyone has ever loved anyone, if we’re being honest.” 

“James.” 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t do that kind of math right now. I love you a lot, okay?” 

“Okay. Same here.”

[borathae]

Moodbooster

"Your boyfriend always manages to lift your mood, even on your period."

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: slice of Life!AU, established relationship!AU, Fluff

Warnings: OC is on her period rip to her ✊🏻😔, she has cramps but yoongi boongie is there to rescue her, he is the bestest and sweetest and cutest boyfie ever <3

Wordcount: 806

a/n: a drabble by me that is actual drabble length? 😱 yeah i can't believe it either lmaoo. also, i'm still on my period and i miss yoongi so that's why this was born. enjoy besties, i miss him so much 🖤

Yoongi knows that you aren’t feeling well today. He has a sense for it. When you are having a bad day, Yoongi gets a heavy lump in his stomach. Not because of fear that you would snap at him, but because he can sense your unease. And when he senses it, he has to do everything in his power to at least lessen it a little bit. 

You are locked up in one of the windowless sitting rooms because the summer sun can’t enter and therefore heat up the room. 

Yoongi knocks, listening for your very grumbly “come in” before entering. 

You are on the sofa in nothing but shorts, not bothering to cover your naked chest when he enters.

“Are you that hot?” he asks, brushing his eyes over your chest briefly.

You nod your head and groan. 

“I hate having my period in summer. It feels like actual torture.” 

“I hear you, princess”, Yoongi says, hurrying to you to sit next to you. 

“I already feel like I’m boiling on normal period days, but summer period days feel like literal hell. If I could peel off my skin to cool off, I would.” 

“This sucks a lot, my love.”

“Yeah and I sweat like a waterfall. I don’t know if my soaked pants are sweat or my pad leaking. Do you even know how nasty I smell?” 

“No, you don’t. You smell good.”

“Thanks but also urgh. I have a cramp to make it even worse. And I want to eat six tons of sugar, I’m going insane.”

Yoongi hums in acknowledgement and lifts his hand to hover it over your stomach.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Yoongi places his hand down as flat as possible, giving your cramping stomach warmth this way. He rubs the smallest circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Wow, so warm”, you sigh happily, shivering from the touch.

“Does this help?”

“Yes, so much”, you gush, sounding a lot happier than before. You even speak in a softer voice. 

“Then I’ll do that for a while.”

“Yes, thankies. Wow Boongie, you have the perfect hands. They’re like warm water bottles but better.”

He smiles at you. He doesn’t mind when you complain and therefore use a harsher voice, but he has to admit that he prefers your happy voice. You get a sort of soft-spokeness about it and only really use it when he pampers you just right. It makes Yoongi feel really soft and cozy as well because the atmosphere, you and he create in these moments, is always very calming. Maybe that is why he loves pampering you so much. Or maybe he loves it because he loves to see you happy. 

You huff out air.

“Sorry for ranting.”

“Don’t apologise, princess. That’s what I’m here for. That and tummy rubs”, he says, giving your stomach a little rub.

You giggle. Yoongi soaks up the sound until it is burned into his memories. 

“I love your tummy rubs so much”, you say and shift a little, “I think they’re working too well though. I literally just felt it come out of me.”

“Wonderful”, Yoongi says, pulling a face of comradery disgust.

“I think I need to go change.”

“Alright. Do you still have enough? I can pop down to the store if you need more.”

You stop in the doorway, “really?” 

“Of course, princess.”

“And you…could get snacks too?”

“Anything you need.” 

“Even everything sweet ever?”

“Of course.”

You lower your eyes shyly, “then maybe I need more. The strongest ones and the ones for sleep. The really thick ones.”

Yoongi gets up, closing the distance to you.

“Understood”, he pecks your cheek, rubbing your tummy one last time, “text me if you think of anything else.”

“I will. Thank you so much, Boongie.”

“Anytime, love.”

Yoongi manages to go as far as one step out of the room before you pull him back by his hand. He turns with a fond and curious look in his pretty eyes.

“Yes, princess?”

You lean in for a kiss to his lips, eliciting a purr from him. He smiles, rubbing your lower back.

“That was nice”, he whispers.

“It’s a kiss full of love.”

“Mhm.” He pecks you. “I love you too, my princess.”

You step back, “okay, you can leave now. Sorry for keeping you.”

“Don’t apologise. You can always keep me if that’s how you do it”, he flirts, giving you a playful little grin before he turns to really leave.  

And while Yoongi leaves to fulfill your wishes, you waddle to the toilet to change. Seriously, if you didn’t have such an amazing boyfriend by your side, this period would suck. With him, it only sucks when he isn’t here. Once he is back from the store, you will give him the biggest smooch ever.

[mistiell]

The one request that’s bouncing around my head is Astarion dealing with a sick mc like fever chills and no sense of balance because of vitiligo

Hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k

---

You feel like shit. Total and utter shit.

What started as a sore throat has evolved into a fever and chills, along with an absolutely skull splitting migraine. The sheets twist uncomfortably as you turn onto your back, clinging to your sweat slicked skin. You can’t bring yourself to kick them off. Not when the ache in your bones makes it feel like they’re breaking.

The sun has been up for nearly an hour, now. If you don’t come out soon, one of your companions will come get you. A strangled whimper forces it’s way out of your throat as you force yourself up, curling in on yourself and dropping your face into your hands.

After trying to decide between attempting to take a breath through your sufficiently stuffed nose or through your mouth, you choose the latter. Which you realize is a terrible mistake when it suddenly feels like a thousand tiny knives are skinning the inside of your throat. It makes you cough, which makes it a million times worse, which makes you cough even more.

It’s a good minute until you can finally breathe again; throat raw, beads of tears drying on your lashes. You’re sure you’re a sorry sight. It makes you glad no one is here to see you in all your disease ridden glory.

“Sweet Hells, are you hacking up a lung in here–?” Not even all the way inside your tent yet, Astarion stops immediately after he lays eyes on you. The disgust is immediately replaced by a hesitant sort of concern, brows just barely creasing, “Oh dear.”

“Do I look that bad?” He grimaces at the way your voice grates, gaze flitting over various parts of you before he meets your eyes again.

“You look dreadful.” You think it’s meant to be playful, but he looks and sounds just a little too concerned for it to land that way.

You snort anyway, rubbing at your sweaty forehead, “Thanks.”

He hovers there, uncharacteristically quiet as he glances outside before sighing and coming the rest of the way inside. He’s still in his regular clothes, which makes you think the others haven’t started getting their armour on yet. Thank gods.

He sits down in front of you on your bedroll, knees barely a hair’s width from yours as he cradles the nape of your neck in a gentle hand and presses the inside of his wrist to your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, a small sigh of relief escapes you when his blessedly cool skin meets yours. You barely think about it as you place a sluggish hand over it to keep him there.

“You’re nice and cool.” You sound listless.

“And you’re about as hot as the hells.” He sighs. You can hear the frown in his voice, “This has gotten out of hand.”

Peeling your eyes open, you blink at him in confusion, “What?”

He lets his wrist fall but keeps a kind hold on your neck, looking deadly serious.

“I know how much you love flattery, but you should know you really don’t have to go to such lengths to get me to wax poetic about your eternal beauty.” It seems like he can’t help the smile that cracks that through the act he’s putting on, “I truly appreciate the effort, but a simple, ‘Astarion, my dearest love, tell me I’m pretty.’ would do just fine.”

A giggle bubbles up from your throat, and you list forward to hide your face in his shoulder as you rasp weakly, “I do not sound like that.”

He hums, giving your nape a gentle squeeze before stroking a little line behind your ear with his thumb. You can feel his teasing smile against the side of your head, “Thankfully not. Should you ever call me your dearest love, I fear I may just drop dead a second time.”

Your laughter dies down, and you’re left with an astronomical wave of fatigue. He wraps his free arm around you when you slump further into him.

“Darling?” He jostles you a little bit. Again, he attempts a joke. Again, he’s too worried for it to come out right, “Don’t go dying on me now. With all we’ve been through, it would be such a waste.��

You huff a small, breathy puff of laughter, turning your face so the bridge of your nose rests against the side of his neck, “I won’t.”

He eases his hand up and down the length of your spine. You barely register it when he turns his head just enough to nose at your temple briefly.

“You should lay back down.” His voice is softer now. The feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear makes you shiver. Although, that could also be the fever.

You sigh, pulling yourself away from his shoulder. The movement sends the world tilting over and over in one direction. Breath hitching, you feel yourself sway as your eyes squeeze shut.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds a little alarmed as you drop your head into your hands.

“Vertigo.” You breathe. Everything keeps spinning behind your eyelids.

You can hear him shift before his hands find one of your forearms and your shoulder blades, guiding you to lay back.

“I have to–.”

He cuts you off, suddenly stern, “The only thing you have to do right now is rest.”

“But the others–.” You try again. It’s in vain.

Scoffing, he turns his nose up. “The others can shove it, as far as I’m concerned.”

You huff, ready to argue until you open your eyes and notice the anxious quirk of his brows. Instead, you sigh, sluggishly placing you hand over his, “Fine.”

You just barely manage to hear the small breath of relief that escapes him as he turns his hand to give yours a squeeze. He leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before pulling away, “I’ll be right back.”

You only nod.

He comes back five minutes later with a small bowl of water, a cloth, and two slices of bread balanced carefully in his arms.

“You don’t have to eat it yet.” Is all he says as he sets the plate down a little ways away. After wetting the cloth, he rings it out into the bowl and folds it in half before laying it over your forehead. You sigh as it cools your skin. It only lasts a few moments before your skin has warmed it again.

He tries again, then again, before huffing; frustrated.

“I’m sorry.” You croak, and he tuts, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s not you.” He sighs, looking properly perturbed now.

“Maybe Shadowheart–.”

“I asked. There’s nothing she can do.” It comes out bitterly, but you know it’s only because he’s worried.

You suddenly have an idea, but first you have to ask, “Can you get sick?”

Looking confused, he shakes his head, “No, I can’t. But, what-?” Pulling back the covers, you open your arms. It clicks, and he chuckles as he climbs in beside you, “Plan to use me as an ice pack, do you?”

“That’s the plan.” It comes out more deadpan than you mean it to. It makes him laugh a little harder, and you can feel the vibrations as your head settles over his chest. Having him next to you is like a balm in more ways than one.

Eyes heavy, you sigh as his hand trails idly along the length of your bicep. You guess he can hear your breathing and heart rate slowing when he whispers, “Sleep, my love.”

And who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?

[moody-alcoholic]

The soldier next door.

I have been struck by the block, so instead of working on my main project I wrote this instead... Fuck it I'm counting it as a freaky Friday even though its 3am on a Saturday.

Masterlist

Part 2

MDNI +18 content

Summary: John Price x reader, reader is female. 3.2k words.

CW: MDNI +18 content Language, alcohol, masturbation, PIV sex, fingering. Honestly this is just blind first draft dribbles so you have been warned.

Enjoy ya filthy animals <3

It felt like it was the hottest day of the year when your fridge decided to stop working. You spent a good 10 minuets prying it out of it’s spot in the kitchen to see if the plug had somehow come loose. When you saw it was still plugged in you turned to the internet, looking up the model number trying to find the instruction manual. You looked for leaking, listened for tapping noises, tried it in a different plug, nothing.

You reluctantly looked online and called for a repair man. He said he would be at least an hour, you could work with that you would have to get new milk but that’s not the end of the world- Shit. The cake! You pulled the door open seeing the smooth cream frosting already starting to crack. No this was bad you wouldn’t have time to make a new one. You pull it out wracking your brain on what to do. Surly your neighbours could help? It was a long shot, it’s the middle of the day on a Tuesday, they’re probably all at work. You play with the idea in your head then decide to try. You need to save this cake. You walk into the hallway trying the door to your right first knocking and ringing the bell. Nothing.

You move to the opposite door doing the same. You wait for a few seconds about to give up and switch floor when the door opens. A man stands here for a second you freeze gawking at him surprised he was even in in the first place. John he had introduced himself to you when you first moved in a year ago, but he’s hardly ever around must work overseas or something. He’s here now though, and he looks way more handsome then you remember.

“Can I help you?” He says pulling you out of your head.

“My fridge, it’s stopped working. I have this cake it’s for my niece's birthday. Do you have room in your fridge to store it? An hour at least I have a repair man on the way.” You say. He pauses for a second then moves to the side.

“Sure, come in.” He says. You follow him through to his kitchen as he opens the fridge moving things around.

“Do you bake for a living?” He asks as he takes it out your hands.

“No it’s a hobby, mainly for family and friends that sort of thing.” You say watching him squeeze it in, next to the microwave meals and the beer. You try not to be nosey moving you eyes elsewhere.

“I didn’t think you would be in, I don’t see you around a lot.” You say as he stand back up closing the door. He’s well built, looks older then you suspect he actually is.

“I work abroad a lot.” He says. “What happened to your fridge anyway?”

“I don’t know it just stopped working.” You explain.

“Have you checked the fuse?” He asks. You look up at him confused shaking your head.

“Mind if I come take a look?” he asks.

“Yeah sure.” You say. He tells you he’ll be back in a second and you wait sheepishly looking round his flat. The place is bigger then yours but it looks like it’s hardly been lived in, guess if you work abroad a lot then you don’t really live in it much. There are a few pictures though, you want to move closer to look but you hear a door close, he walks towards you with a tool box and you head over to your place. He crouches down by the fridge plug and opens the box you stand behind him looking over his shoulder.

“What kind of work is it, like offshore mining?” You ask as he unscrews the plug. He chuckles.

“I’m military.” He says, he looks a bit old to be military, you think. It would be rude to ask his age, now you’re getting a better look at him he doesn't look that old, he could even be late 30’s especially with how fit he is.

“See,” he says taking something out the plug and turning to show you, you take it in your hand you’re not quite sure what it’s supposed to look like but it clearly looks burnt.

“Just a blown fuse, I’ll replace it.” He says his hand going back into the took kit.

“Thank you,” You say putting the thing on the side and picking up your phone. You felt embarrassed, you’d gone to all the fuss of calling a repair man only for your neighbour to fix the problem in less then a minute. You make the awkward call to cancel the repair man, when you come back in the kitchen he’s moving the fridge back in place, his arms stretched out pushing it like it’s nothing. You try not to stare as he turns back to look at you.

“Thank you really, what can I do to make it up to you?” You ask. He smiles going down to pick up his tool box.

“Don’t worry about it it’s just a fuse.” He says.

“Please let me make it up to you.” You say feeling silly about the whole thing, you should have thought about the fuse, you should have checked that first. He sighs walking to the door.

“Okay, I have a work event coming up make me a cake and we’re even.” He says.

“Yes I can do that no problem.” You nod enthusiastically. He smiles as he leaves your flat.

“Okay, it’s next Wednesday, is that enough time?” He asks.

“Yeah plenty of time.” You smile back at him.

“Great I’ll come pick it up Wednesday afternoon.” He nods, looking at you like he is waiting for something as you stand in the doorway.

“Yeah, the cake sorry.” You say suddenly remembering the reason for all this in the first place. You try to hide your blushing as go back in his flat to pick it up.

——————————

When Wednesday comes around you’re a bundle of nerves. John didn’t tell you anything about what kind of cake he wanted, and you had been too nervous to ask. So you deiced to bake a classic Victoria sponge with some homemade raspberry jam your mother had given you. You can’t go wrong with that it’s a classic! You think to yourself. What if he thinks it’s too basic? Maybe you should have done a chocolate cake or something, red velvet always impresses people. You try not to work yourself up about it as you sprinkle powdered sugar on the top, leaving it to cool on the side. Fifteen minutes later there is a knock at the door. You go to open it. John is dressed up in military formals, you’ve only ever seen people dressed up like him on TV for royal events or the remembrance parades. He looks amazing, there’s a buzz running through your body as you step aside to let him in.

“You look good.” You say walking to the kitchen and looking through the cupboard for your cake tin.

“Thank you,” he says moving over to look at the cake.

“It looks delicious,” he says.

“You don’t think it’s too boring? You’re dressed up so fancy.” You say as you gently put the cake in the tin.

“Victoria sponge is a classic everyone will love it.” He says as you turn to hand him the tin.

“Bring the tin back whenever.” You say as he heads for the door.

“I will.”

“Have fun at your event.” You say as he steps into the lift, he nods smiling at you.

You’re out on the balcony sipping a glass of wine when you hear the door to the next apartment opening. You look over pulling your eyes away from the social media binge you had been on. It’s John, you feel nerves come back, you look away trying to ignore him feeling like you’re invading his privacy. The sound of a lighter has you spinning your head back to see, he’s smoking a cigar. So that’s where that smell comes from, you thought it was the neighbours above you. He turns his head and spots you looking you quickly turn away looking back at your phone.

“Hey,” he calls.

“Hey,” you reply looking back at him. He’s being lit up from the light from inside his flat. His features look so defined, his arm muscles look bigger, his freshly groomed beard casts a shadow across his face making him look older. When he puffs on his cigar it lights up his face and his eyes feel like they’re burning into you. It awakens a feeling in you, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while, maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the yearning for human contact but right now you want to fuck your neighbour.

“They loved the cake by the way.” He says.

“Good, what did you think?” You ask.

“Lovely, I can bring the tin over if you want?” He says. Yes please bring the tin over and fuck me.

“It’s okay, bring it back whenever.” You reply. He nods.

“How was the event?” You ask.

“Boring, they always are.” You watch as he takes another puff of the cigar taping the ash on the floor.

“You’re up late.” He says.

“It’s not that late.” You say looking down at your phone. Shit. It was almost midnight, guess the social media rabbit hole had gone on for longer then then you thought.

“I guess I lost track of time.” You reply. You watch as he extinguishes the butt of the cigar on the wall.

“Don’t stay out too long it’s going to rain soon.” He says opening the door to head back in.

“Yeah I won’t.” You reply. He smiles looking back at you one last time then heads inside. You pick your phone back up not even paying attention to what you were looking at. You finish your wine too flustered to focus on anything and head inside. You take a long hot shower trying to wash away the thoughts coming into your mind, the thoughts of John, of riding him till he fills you up, his face between your legs as you cum on his mouth. It doesn’t work, if anything it’s made you more desperate. You dig through your drawers for your barely used pink vibrator eagerly jumping into bed. That night you fuck yourself, coming over and over until your fingers cramp, each time moaning his name. You were well and truly screwed.

——————————

The next day early afternoon there was a knock at the door. You were in a world of your own replying to some work e-mails. You get up to answer it and it’s John with the cake tin. You blush almost imminently thinking back to last night, his name leaving your mouth as you came on your fingers.

“I washed it for you I didn’t know if I should or not.” He says, you take it out his hands.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You reply your mouth suddenly dry.

“You okay?” He asks. No.

“Yeah, it’s hot.” You say. He smiles, that tingle comes back between your legs.

“Yeah the weather is nice for once.” He says.

“If you need another cake, let me know, or I can do cupcakes too.” You say.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckles.

“Tea?” You ask, the tingle being replaced with nerves, he looks down at his watch.

“Yeah, sure thank you.” He says you move aside to let him in and he makes his way over to the kitchen. You pass him checking the kettle and filling it up.

“How do you take it?” You ask.

“Milk and a little sugar.” He replies, you can feel his eyes on you as he stands behind you, the hairs sticking up on the back of your neck. You put the teabags in the cup as you hear him take another step towards you, he’s stood next to you his hand finds the small of your back.

“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice sounds lower all of a sudden deeper.

“I think I got it.” You say looking up at him his face centimetres away from yours. You look into his eyes, he has nice eyes, blue they look almost translucent in the light. His hand pulls you closer to him your body turning towards him.

“Every time I come home I get reminded how beautiful you are.” He says. For a second you think you’re imaging it, maybe you’re dreaming, did you hit your head this morning? You’re stood just looking at him your mouth hanging open as you stare up at him. He kisses you his tongue working it’s way into your mouth stroking yours. You press your face into him as his hands grip your waist. His beard is tickling your face but you don’t care, he’s gentle not what you were expecting, although you didn’t know what you were expecting.

You hear the kettle click and you’re about to break from the kiss but his hands slip under your armpits and he pulls you up to sit on the counter. You gasp as your lips leave his. You lean back your head hitting the cupboards as he pushes his hands up your top. You raise your arms and pull it over your head as his lips kiss your stomach. You reach back un-cliping your bra throwing it in the sink. He stops kissing your stomach his hands working their way up to your breasts. He cups them one in each hand giving them a squeeze.

“Perfect, everything about you is so bloody perfect.” He says before locking his lips round one of your nipples. You moan your hand gripping his hair as his tongue flicks your nipple. Your other hand moving to your free breast massaging it. John looks up at you his eyes glistening as he kisses you again.

“Want to move to the bedroom?” You ask him between breaths. He nods, you’re about to move your body to jump off the counter but he scoops his arms round your back pulling you onto him. You lock your legs round his waist, and your arms round his neck so you don’t fall and lead him to the bedroom. He puts you down on the bed taking his shirt off before laying next to you, he’s hairy, of course he is, well built too, defined muscles, you’re looking at him up and down your eyes moving back to his face. His hand traces your breasts down your stomach your waistband, he’s almost too gentle, his touch making you crave his hands all over you at once.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.” He says going back to kiss you before you can reply. It’s a deep kiss, a needy kiss, sloppy and hot your tongues in each others mouths. He breaks away first looking down your body. You grab the waist of your shorts and underwear pulling them down, now you’re being needy, desperate for his touch. He smiles moving to help you pull them off and throw them on the floor. He stands up at the foot of your bed undoing his belt, you can tell by the bulge in his pants he’s already hard, you’re almost licking your lips in anticipation as he pulls them down standing back up and throwing them to the side. Christ he’s big, you try not to stare which only makes him chuckle and heat rushes to your cheeks. He bends down picking his jeans back up pulling a condom out the back pocket.

“You always walk about with a condom on you?” You ask.

“Only when you’re around.” He winks, you blush again smiling, you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. You spread your legs as he rolls the condom down his uncut length, you try to keep your mouth closed as he steps towards you. He bends over you his dogtags hit your chest, as he kisses you again your hand wraps round the back of his neck and you run your fingers up his hair. His free hand makes it’s way up your thigh till it reaches your cunt. His fingers part your folds, he’s gentle making sure to touch everything, explore each part of you feeling your reaction. When his fingers push into you, you break away from the kiss gasping. He chuckles his mouth moving to kiss your neck as he thrusts his fingers in and out. You’re so wet, feeling your self dripping all the way down to your ass. When he starts hitting your g-spot you moan, his mouth leaving your neck to watch you squirm.

He pulls his fingers out rubbing the juices round your swollen clit making you twitch. He hums and you look up at him smiling. He pulls you down the bed a bit lining himself up with your entrance. You feel him push inside you and you moan with him, he’s big, stretching you out, you let out a breath as you take him all the way. You prop yourself up on your elbows looking up at him as he slowly thrusts in and out of you like he’s trying to test your limit. His free hand makes it’s way to your stomach pressing you down as you arch your back, you fall back on the bed as his thumb starts rubbing your clit. The new sensation makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Holy shit,” you breathe as he speeds up his rubbing matching his thrusts. You want to move your hands to your breasts but you feel too good just lying there and taking it, moaning his name telling him how good he feels, he replies with a chuckle increasing the pressure on your clit making your body squirm.

“Like that huh?” He says in a low commanding voice.

“Yes- please don’t stop.” You pant as you get closer to the edge. Your legs start shaking as his free hand grips your waist, almost pulling you down on him harder.

“John-” his name leaves your lips as you clench round him.

“Yeah, come for me baby.” His words are like music to your ears you’re not really even paying attention just hearing him grunt and moan as he presses inside you, telling you how good you’re taking him, you cum arching your back, calling his name. He cums too you can feel each pulse of his cock burred deep inside you as he slows down bending over you his dogtags falling back on your chest as he pants his hands gripping the bedding.

You look up at him his eyes closed mouth open, after a second he opens his eyes looking at you. You smile at him and he leans down kissing you, a long deep kiss with his gentle tongue. When he pulls away he stands up brushing his hand over your clit making you shudder. You feel a sudden emptiness in you belly as he flops onto the bed next to you. You reach over laying up against him your arm spread over his chest.

“Your cake was really amazing.” He says turning his head to meet your eyes. You nod.

“Better then sex?” You ask a cheeky smile on your face. He chuckles kissing your nose.

“No, not better then sex, but pretty bloody close.” You smile reaching over kissing him.

[kosmicdream]

Hello. After drawing webcomics for 10 years and making about 10,000 pages of comics, here are some things i have learned/observed in that experience..

1) making comics does not get easier.. Not really

Making comics is a tedious and slow process and with so many different facets of the experience to learn - you’ll never run out of stuff to learn or weaknesses to work on. I’m not saying this to discourage but to just give the frank reality that it really takes a lifetime to understand. Be patient with yourself and try to set healthy expectations. 

2) Read your own comics after making them.

I don’t know if this is as important to other people as it is to me, but I do think that sometimes its easy to not re-read your own work and just go from your own memory of it, or maybe you’re tired of looking at it because of all the flaws. I don’t personally get sucked into the “rewrite/remake” cycle that I know is common with comics, as I sort of just accept things as they are, but re-reading my work does help me see where I have come from and where I need to go to next. I personally don’t like to lose sight of that, and I think re-reading helps ground me in the planning process of my work and gives me a better perspective on all aspects.

3) A lot of comic advice should be taken with a grain of salt, because its the person talking to themselves. (including this)

I see a lot of advice that never would have worked for me, or just simply wasn’t something I was ever going to follow. “Dont start with your big epic long stories”! Is a common one. I don’t think that’s bad advice exactly, but how many young artists are going to listen, especially if they’ve never told a story in the first place? Yes, the advice to start small and build yourself up with experience sounds great, I’m sure people do it, but if you’re an artist you’re probably not gonna be that responsible. And for me, when i tried to do this with eggshells, my house burnt down and i kinda gave up comics for a while because i lost a lot of work. 

Writing short stories is still something I struggle with, its just not easy for me. I have gotten better at it but i don’t think that makes me less of a comic artist because I haven’t gotten good at that particular format, or that I jump around on my projects. Is it more impressive to have more completed work under your belt, sure. But I also think that.. Idk.. what is the advice actually saying, because with that one it sort of feels (often times) as a warning that you’re setting yourself up for failure/embarrassment by attempting a comic like that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but comics are gonna be embarrassing no matter what you do and there’s no guarantee you’ll be more successful/not experience failure by avoiding your passions. Something to think about anyway. 

4) Don’t draw every leaf. Unless you really want to.

I’m the kind of comic artist that kind of doesn’t care about the art as much as the whole package of the comic. When i see a very impressively drawn panel/page, with laborious detail that is well drawn and maybe even colored ect.. That usually is kind of, I guess, a turn off for me as part of the reading experience. The thing is, when i encounter that, it usually signals to me that someone has poor planning skills for comics. It says to me that comic is probably not going to see its end or that artist is overworking themselves in an unnecessary way, that ends up concerning me about how they’re doing. Because i know how hard it is to draw comics. When an artist phones things in a bit, or has a limit on how much they work on a page, its a relief for me to see! because I understand they have healthier boundaries and expectations, and the art itself usually is less stiff too. This is all an overgeneralization, but I think with a lot of webcomic artists we are usually drawing a comic for the first time ever, so it makes sense we want to do our best and try as hard as possible - that just usually isn’t the smartest plan to put all the stock in the visual department. This also kinda frustrates me to see because most comics (professional or not) will also (generally) not reel the art in ever or make a more simple style. Generally I see it always trying to outdo itself, which leads to burn out. I personally only work about 1hr on each page i draw, that hasn’t changed in the 10 years I have been drawing comics, but i used to spend hundreds of hours drawing detailed lineart for eggshells and it didn’t even read well and i’d be disappointed with the results, feeling more lost with my goals than ever. PLEASe.. Just draw worse, its usually better looking in the end too. (because you wont have the experience to judge visual clarity until you’ve been drawing comics for a while imo..)

5) Don’t draw ahead, draw those inbetweenies.

“Inbetweenies” are the pages for the “boring” ones. They are also usually the most common KIND of page. Its the pages that are necessary, but “inbetween” the action. The impact moments in a scene, ect. You gotta draw them. They’re always gonna be there. They’re the pages where maybe, the character is walking somewhere, thinking, ect. The after impact from an action.. There’s a million examples, but hopefully you’ll understand what I mean when I say they’re both necessary pages/panels, sometimes so mundane/redundant, but also required for telling the story.. As a comic is a sequence of images. This is why, the previous advice is also important IMO- because if you really want to “draw every leaf” - maybe you should save that energy and effort for those impact moments that you want to impress the reader with.. And not for the inbetweenies, which are the foundational support, but also not the most important moments. If you conserve your energy a bit, the contrast OF that effort will also pop more. I personally find it funny when I put more effort into a page and end up tricking my readers into thinking I got better at drawing, when really i just have been able to draw better and only save it for moments like this instead of always.

Also, when I say don’t draw ahead.. I mean I draw each page at a time before going to the next one. I have no idea if this is an unusual practice or not, and I know a lot of people will draw their chapters/episodes/whatever in sections like sketch/ink/color/ect.. But I personally draw and finish page by page, unless its the thumb/sketch stage. Even then, i don’t go ahead much. I think that you can control flow/pacing better by doing chapters all at once of course, I see that as a benefit. But i also think that makes things very overwhelming and can also result in a lack of flexibility if something isn’t working. No matter HOW much planning you do- comics are always going to have an aspect of IMPROVISATION with the result you get in the end. There are way too many factors in play to be in complete control of all of them and always know the result of the reading experience. SO for me, this technique is easier and has been something that continues to get me to working effectively. Plus, rumiko takahashi said that’s what she does. And i think she has some of the best visual flow/compositions in comics. So that’s what I do.

I could write more personal advice or rules that i follow..but I think those are the ones I find are the most important to me anyway. Of course, comics are a strange medium and not everything that works for me will work for you. That’s all for now.. Bye bye…! 

Oh by the way, my comics are here: feastforaking.com nastyreddogs.com https://kosmic.itch.io/ Support me on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/kosmic

[venusgirltarot]

Your Idea of Them vs. What They’re Really Like

☆ ミ book a reading with me ☆彡

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Pile 1 — [♡];

The energy here isn’t what I was expecting, Pile One. I think it’s something you really need to hear, though. I think you know what this person is really like and I think that’s why you’ve decided to walk away from them. For some of you, you’ve already done this and for others I think you’re still thinking about it. For those of you that have, you may be thinking about going back or maybe there’s just a small part of you that wonders if you made the right decision but please trust yourself and know that you did. If you have fully made the decision to walk away yet, know that it’s the right decision.

You may have been in a long term relationship with this person and are just now seeing a different side to this person. I keep hearing 3 or 4 years? They may have just started acting easily irritable, careless, not as loving as they once were. You no longer felt safe, loved, and appreciated with this person. Maybe something happened in their life or something with their family caused some sort of change or shift within them? I’m not completely sure.

If you no longer feel happy or safe in a connection then please don’t stick around in hopes of change. Accept nothing less than what you deserve and let go of what is no longer serving you. Some of you may have children with this person or maybe you have children of your own or something. Only take that if it resonates. Those of you who have not left yet may be nervous about the outcome of leaving or wondering if it’s the right decision, please trust what your intuition is telling you and walk away if that is what your intuition is saying. You will flourish outside of this connection and things will get so much better for you. Its going to be okay. You have far more strength and independence within you than you realize and you are capable of far more than you think you are.

I hope you’re doing well, Pile One and if no one else has told you today, please know that I am proud of you. ❤️

Pile 2 — [♡];

Pile Two, I don’t think your person really expected you. I’m having a hard time finding how you view them because I feel their energy so strongly. They hold a space for you but I think they try to avoid or deny that space if that makes sense. I’m having a hard time explaining it. Their feelings/emotions are so conflicting. It’s like there’s potential for them to fall deeply in love with you but they’re fighting it so hard. I’m not sure why though because they know you wouldn’t hurt them. They have such a soft spot for you.

They may have had an idea of what their life was supposed to look like and what their next step was but you came along and kind of changed things for them and they don’t know if they want that. I heard “if only I had a little more time” they may have wanted to be at a different place in their life when you came along and they worry this will become a “right person wrong time” sort of situation. They may also cuss a lot because I’m hearing lots of that. “I need to get my shit together” and “I fucked up in a bad way”. There was a point in the reading where I was crying because I was so emotional.

You don’t really need this person and maybe that’s what scares them. You have options and may come off as very independent and confident in yourself. I heard “this could hurt me more than it could hurt you” they seem to think they have more at risk here for some reason. You have a parental/motherly energy that they love about you. You’re empathetic and caring. You care for them but maybe more in a subtle way. You’re not overbearing in the way you check up on them. You may be sort of sassy/quick witted and they really like that, as well. I wonder if they don’t fantasize about long term commitment and children with you. Very rarely or maybe even just once but it may have crossed their mind. They’re afraid to let themselves open up or get close to you because they know the way you’d treat them and care for them when you really got to know the real them would make them fall deeply in love with you and they don’t want that. They’re fighting their feels very hard, Pile Two.

I hope that this person gets it together and opens up to you, Pile Two but I can’t promise that they will. Don’t wait around if you don’t feel that’s what you want to do. I can’t give you a timeline or promise that this person will come forward so you will really have to follow your own intuition here. I truly hope it works out in your favor, Pile Two.

Pile 3 — [♡];

I think there’s a more serious side of this person that they don’t want you to see. To you, they like to come off as well established and sure of themselves. They carry a lot of weight on their shoulders and could become easily stressed with work related stuff. They may be some sort of boss of CEO. For some of you, this may be someone that’s very successful and financially well off.

You help them a lot with this stress without realizing it. You’re like a safe haven to them. You don’t see them as a boss or someone with all the answers and you’re not dependent on them in any way. They can just enjoy their time with you and you have no expectations of them. They really appreciate you and your energy.

This feels like a newer connection. You’re still getting to know each other but could be starting to see each other more seriously and wanting to groin and establish something more serious with one another. I think they’ll share all of this with you when the time is right because they do want more with you and see you as someone they want to be with long term.

Your person has a very mature energy. They could be older than you. They’re very intelligent and well establish but they may be a little too hard in themselves quite often.

[chefkids]

As much as I love sydcarmy, I really don’t think they’re going to become romantic. Especially after this season. If Storer really only planned for 3 seasons and had to split it into half, it doesn’t make sense. The show doesn’t have enough episodes to really develop them to where both realize their feelings (if they’re really there) and then be in a place to get together in a way that it doesn’t feel rushed

I don't think Storers big plan for this series is to leave Carmy in a miserable lonely place.

This season already set up a few things with Claire. Mainly that she does not seem interested in getting back together with him. She's a pushy person, she was not afraid to push him to be with her once. If she really wanted to she would have pushed again and talked to him to get him to apologize and be with her again just how she forced him to apologize on the phone for giving her a fake number. I think she's hurt he hasn't talked to her at all or apologized, but she does not want to be with him again. She told Tiff he basically said he would blame her if anything went wrong in his life. Which is really not what Carmy meant, and I think that will be part of their fight when he does apologize to her. She also told the Faks "it's done." when they were saying she's the peace and that he loves her and that she should get back with him to "take care of him because no one else does". I don't think she wants to be with him again and has accepted they shouldn't be together, and I think that will be the end of their relationship once he apologizes to her. I do not think Storer plans on making Claire his emotional caretaker. And the same goes for Syd. She's not his babysitter either.

She's running out of time to decide on her partnership offers. Which I think will be address right at the start of the next season and will be the turning point for Carmy to get his shit together.

This story is about family and found family, they have made that very clear and it has always remained true though out all the season. Sydney is stuck because she doesn't want to leave her found family, but Carmy is a toxic family member. Carmy left his family because of his toxic mother, but we've seen how Nat and her were able to rebuild their trust and come back to each other. Jimmy told him his mom wants to speak to him. He knows he's been avoiding her, but he will see her again, even if he doesn't fully forgive her for what has happened between them, I think Donna and Carmy will be on an okay place even if they don't stay close and speaking with each other. Which I think also mirrors Storer's relationship with his own mom that he has talked about.

We already know next half will be all about him rebuilding his broken relationships with everyone by apologizing to Claire and getting closure, fixing things with Richie, and reuniting with his mother. There has been evidence for all of these. And I'm sure finally fixing things with Sydney in the end will also be a part on the next season.

I think she will make moves to leave and tell him about the offer, and I think she will likely develop some sort of relationship with Luca. But we also know that he comes with an expiration date, he's only here for a few months. That was the set up, while Carmy was not paying attention to Sydney, she was getting scooped up professionally and personally. I really don't think her and Luca will work out long term. But I'm still uncertain about Sydney leaving The Bear. We know Jimmy was going to cut them off if they got a bad review, which is apparently what they got, and I think that might actually happen. I could still see The Bear closing next season and everyone going their own ways professionally, but remaining a family at heart.

That conversation about Legacy and family trees Carmy had with Marcus really seemed to me to foreshadow Sydney starting her own place and taking bits of The Bear with her and also Marcus perhaps starting his own place or going somewhere else. Carmy said he wants to leave behind something "panickless and anxiety free" and I do think he will get there in the end, but I think that might involve closing The Bear or at the very least him stepping away from it and handing the reins to Sydney. I think there was a lot of emphasis on his drawings especially from Chef Terry, and I think that will still play a role in his future and him pursuing his passions which might be beyond cooking.

I do not think this is all going to end on a sad and miserable note. If this part's theme was about funerals, Marcus's mom and Ever. The next will be about weddings. We know Tiff and Frank's wedding is coming. A big theme for Richie was the idea of him being alone/lonely. He's also very clearly starting something with Jess and I think that will continue in the next part. I think Syd and Carmy's "partnership", be it professional or romantic, working out will also be a part of these "weddings".

I don't think Storer is as stupid and oblivious as we sometimes think he is. He knows that Syd and Carmy have a crazy transcendental celestial bond that Claire and Carmy don't. He knew the implications of the Season 2 panic attack. As much as Season 3 felt like retcon to justify Claire and Carmy being true loved or something, he still doubled down on Syd and Carmy's invisible string, on her being his muse, and on her being his actual peace in panic attacks despite any lies Carmy tries to tells himself about it being Claire.

I think they will unambiguously break the platonic allegations by the end of the series. Will they have the guts to show us their relationship and partnership outside of the kitchen in the show beyond just them getting together at the last minute? Unsure.

I think he probably intended on ending the series with Syd and Carmy getting together at the last second. Especially if you consider John Hughes' Some Kind of Wonderful, which I do think inspired his Claire/Carmy/Syd dynamic, ended with them getting together and kissing right before the screen turns black. Which would honestly be a lame cop out and really quite offensive to Syd to not show their full partnership in motion after giving so much screen time to Claire/Carmy's romantic life and would only feed the people that will claim it's fanservice to end with sydcarmy.

I think that's what the ambiguity of there being a Season 5 or not is. We know the studios want it, sydcarmy is making them a lot of noise and a huge subset of people would love to actually see it play out on screen for more than 10 minutes at the series finale, but does Storer want to actually make a season about more than Carmy being miserable and show that people can heal and exist in a functioning relationships and a functioning kitchen and still be funny and exciting and entertaining? Who knows.

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (3/5)

continuation of Dream's eldritch pregnancy

Apparently by sheer force of will, Dream still refuses to ‘look’ pregnant in any kind of meaningful way. But looks are not everything, and the fact that Dream is not quite himself—more so the further along they get—is evident in how… chaotic the Dreaming has been.

Gravity’s all wonky. Hob will walk along a palace corridor towards Dream’s quarters—a corridor he thought he knew plenty well—only to find the sky out the windows is suddenly down, and he’s walking on the ceiling. Usually, the second he notices he plummets to the floor. Or rather, to the ceiling. Or whatever.

Weather’s weird, too. Not really in a bad way, not like when Dream is morose and it rains all the time. But there’s been snow going sideways—“the baby likes winter,” Dream said at one point when Hob asked—and the waterfalls that tumble down the river running by the castle have been running up, and the temperature is fluctuating seemingly by the minute. Hob’s given up on trying to dress to the weather—even dream-logic can’t keep up with the changes. He just suffers through it. It’s probably bothering Dream more than it is him, anyway.

He copes with the chaos because he might as well get used to it now—it’s not like a magical baby is going to be any less chaotic.

On this particular day, when Hob arrives in the Dreaming to see Dream, he nearly backs right back out again. Not that that’s really how it works. But it’s high noon, the sun glaringly bright overhead, and the Dreaming is blaring with noise.

With music, specifically. The whole place is playing “Bring Me to Life”, of all things, very loudly, though it seems to be some kind of infant adaptation made of bells and chimes. Covering his ears, Hob tries to find a speaker system in the palace. Nothing. It seems to be ambient noise emanating from the sky and the earth and the very fucking soul of the place.

So instead he goes to track down Dream.

On his way, he passes Lucienne, who’s valiantly trying to complete her work in the library, brow pinched, and Matthew, who alights briefly, unsteadily on his shoulder to say, “I know they’re having mommy and me music time and it’s all sweet and cute but do you think you can get him to turn down the emo xylophone? I can’t fly in this shit,” before winging away again.

Eventually Hob reaches Dream’s quarters. He doesn’t answer when Hob knocks, so Hob just goes in. He finds him sitting on the floor, back to the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over his ears. Shit. Rough day, then.

Hob sits down across from him on the floor. “Dream.” No response. He taps Dream’s knee. “Dream!”

Dream startles, looking up at him. Then seizes Hob’s hands and clasps them over his own ears, sighing in relief when that apparently mutes some of the sound. Hob’s not sure how that works, but then, everything works weirdly in the Dreaming.

Hob moves closer to him so he can sort of, awkwardly, fold Dream into his arms. “Are you okay, honey?”

Dream shakes his head. “Loud.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

He shakes his head again. “Inside.”

“What does that mean?” Hob asks. “Are the baby’s powers bothering you?”

Dream nods as he pushes his face into Hob’s shoulder, Hob’s hands still covering his ears. “She is… growing into herself, and I am glad for it, but—” he breathes out, hard, tired— “but, I have been. Busy. And. My focus slipped. And she is very excitable. It seems.”

Hob really should do better than to forget the gap between what Dream feels and what he vocalizes. Listening to him talk normally, one would think that managing the baby’s burgeoning powers required no effort at all.

“You’ve been dealing with so much, my darling, haven’t you?” Hob holds him close and rocks him back and forth. “It sounds very hard. You’re doing so well.”

“Hob Gadling, I do not need your platitudes,” Dream growls, but he wraps his arms around Hob nevertheless, fingers gripped in his jumper. Hob keeps his hands pressed over his ears.

“‘Course you don’t,” he says. Then keeps up with the platitudes anyway, as they seem to be pulling Dream’s focus from the overwhelming music. “You don’t need me to tell you how powerful you are. Or how good a job you’re doing taking care of our baby as she grows. Do you?”

Dream just sighs, but doesn’t protest. Even dream kings need to be told they’re doing a good job sometimes, Hob thinks.

The music’s changed. It’s metal now, though still in that bells and xylophone register. “Baby likes Metallica?” Hob asks, and Dream makes a hmph sound into his shirt. “Think we can turn it down a bit? Matthew was crashing into walls.”

“You can turn it down,” says Dream.

Hob is about to ask, well, how? then thinks, fuck it, this is the Dreaming. He imagines a dial in front of him, and turns it.

The volume goes down.

The Dreaming’s so cool sometimes.

“Thank you,” Dream says.

“What were you up to before all this?” Hob asks, finally loosening his grip on Dream’s head now that the music’s lower.

“I was building her a room in the palace. I was… struggling to get it right. Perhaps the details will have to come to me later.”

“You seem pretty tired. Maybe you should just come back to it, hm?”

“Perhaps.” He finally lifts his head from Hob’s chest. “Would you like to see?”

“The room? Definitely.”

They get up, and Dream opens a door in his chambers that definitely wasn’t there before to take them through to another part of the palace.

Inside, it’s, well. It’s chaotic.

Much like in Dream’s throne room, the ceiling is composed of a literal night sky, deep enough to fall into. The walls bear murals of various Dreaming landscapes and the fantastical creatures that live in them, which Hob thinks Dream might have painted by hand. He also thinks they might be more like doorways than murals, at least when Dream allows them to be. There’s a stream running through the center of the room with actual fish in it—definitely a drowning hazard, but presumably Dream has some magic that would prevent that—and in the corner is, despite Dream’s claims that he could make one so much better, a direct replica of the crib Hob had put together in the Waking. Which is so sweet.

It’s all very chaotic, but it’s… nice, too? It’s eclectic and changeable, the way the baby’s power feels, when Hob’s felt it.

“It’s gorgeous, Dream, I think she’ll love it,” he says, and Dream’s tiny smile is surprised, but pleased. “Just make sure she doesn’t drown in the stream, yeah?”

“I will ensure it,” Dream promises. “She will come to no harm in the Dreaming.”

“Good.” He pulls Dream close, kisses his cheek, holds him as they look at their child’s room. Their child. They’re really doing this? Trying again?

Well. There’s really no turning back now.

Dream sighs tiredly, leaning into his side.

“I wish I could help you more with this,” Hob says. “I know I can’t, not with all of it, but still.”

“Such is the way of things,” says Dream.

Hob wraps his arms around him from behind, cradles his belly in his hands. It’s something he did, once upon a time, for Eleanor. Dream doesn’t have much of a belly at all—Hob doubts he ever will at this point—but he seems to appreciate the gesture. It’s all about the meaning of a thing with Dream, rather than the materiality.

Indeed, Dream hums, laying his hands over Hob’s.

“I hope you aren’t suffering too much,” Hob says, hooking his chin over Dream’s shoulder.

“Suffering, no,” says Dream. “Feeling as though I have taken on a second job, so to speak, yes. But.” He looks down, smiling lightly. “It makes me happy, to feel her. When she is not trying to play extremely loud music, that is.”

“Soon she’ll just be playing extremely loud music in my flat. How much insanity am I going to be coping with, by the way? Are we going to be taking home a fully-grown terror?”

“Mmm. Rather more agency than a human baby, I expect.” He sounds like he’s enjoying the prospect of chaos at Hob’s expense. Of course.

“Terrific. Time to concept-proof the house. As a concept, you’ll have to advise.”

Dream chuckles, holding onto Hob’s hands where they’re still wrapped around his belly. Hob kisses the side of his neck.

“Is there anything I can do for you, darling? Anything that will make you feel better?”

“I will come back with you to the Waking, for a time, if you are not busy,” says Dream.

“Never busy when it comes to you,” Hob says.

Dream gives him a look over his shoulder, but doesn’t protest. Hob holds onto his hands as Dream takes them to the Waking.

It’s always really weird waking up that way. There’s no proper line between dreaming and waking, the dream-space of their daughter’s future bedroom just sort of cedes into Hob’s flat, and he finds himself in bed, blinking awake in the dark. Dream is lying curled in his arms, in much the same position as how they were just standing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Hob says, and Dream huffs.

“Will you indoctrinate our child with your sense of humor?” he asks.

“I’ll sure try.” 

Dream just sighs again in response, long-suffering as always. Hob cuddles him close, and feels the way his whole body relaxes. It’s lovely how, in all the turmoil of pregnancy, he seems to be gradually allowing himself a modicum of greater relaxation and indulgence, at least when they’re together. It’s still only a small percentage of what he truly should allow himself, in Hob’s opinion, but it’s progress.

“I’m glad you came back with me,” he says, petting Dream’s hair. “Take a break for a little while.”

“For a short time, perhaps,” Dream agrees.

“For a longer time?” Hob says.

He really thinks Dream might benefit from taking some time off before the baby is born, too. Taking time off is anathema to Dream, and he’s not particularly fond of being told what to do, either, so Hob hasn’t pushed it much. But there’s no real reason not to. The Dreaming won’t fall apart if he takes some time for himself, just for a few months.

“I don’t know,” Dream says, which is as good as a no. “Perhaps.”

And Hob gets what’s going on in his mind. If Dream felt that resting was something he needed to do for his daughter’s sake, he would likely do it, but as it stands it feels far too self-indulgent for him. He can’t stand to allow himself that.

“What can I do for you now, darling?” he asks. “What do you need?”

Quietly, Dream says, “Will you make love to me?”

“Oh, love.” Hob kisses the back of his neck. “You hardly have to ask.”

He can imagine Dream’s tiny smile, even if he can’t see it.

He traces his hand down Dream’s chest, Dream’s shirt disappearing into mist in the wake of his touch. Dream leans back into him, and Hob keeps touching him, lower now, brushing the hem of his pajama pants, which likewise dissolve back into dreams. He dips his fingers between Dream’s legs, drawing another long sigh from him that merges into a low groan.

“Sensitive?” Hob teases, and Dream huffs. Hob kisses under his jaw, holding him close. “It’s okay. You’re so beautiful right now, you know that? So gorgeous.” He splays his free hand over Dream’s belly, arm wrapped around him, as he keeps working him with the other. Dream shivers and squirms under his touch.

Hob delves his fingers into him. Dream is already wet and aching, so wanting. Hob takes himself out of his pajama pants, thrusts between Dream’s thighs. Dream gasps as Hob nudges at his entrance, then moans as he eases in, so easy, like Dream was just waiting for it.

He gives a few slow thrusts, breathing out hard against the back of Dream’s neck. “Feel so good, love.”

Dream grabs onto his hand, squeezing tight. “Hob.”

Hob rolls his hips, fucking him long and slow, lips pressed to Dream’s skin. He can’t lie and say he isn’t very into Dream like this. There’s nothing particularly physically different about him. But he’s so wanting. And when they’re alone together, he’s so open about wanting, too. Hob is very much into a Dream who wants to be coddled and is willing, at least to some degree, to admit it.

He keeps rocking into him, kissing his neck. Dream pushes back against him, meeting each thrust. He feels so good, lax, and pliant, shivering when Hob rolls into him. Hob holds tight to Dream’s hand, gasping at each peak of their rhythm.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Hob murmurs against his skin. “Is that good for you, love?”

“Yes, yes.” Dream cries out as Hob presses in deep, then shudders, clenching down around him. “Hob.”

“So good, sweetheart. Perfect. I love you.”

He keeps up his steady, measured pace, though Dream’s body feels so good it makes him want to just chase his own release until he catches it. Make love to me, Dream had said. And Hob will. He’ll always want to hold him close, to make him feel good, to feel the way Dream relaxes when he knows he’s loved.

“Please,” Dream begs, “please, Hob—” and oh, Hob loves when he can unravel him enough to get that.

He kisses the affected pulse in Dream’s throat, murmurs, “Shhh, love, I’ll always give you everything you want, don’t you know?”

“Yes,” Dream breathes, “yes, yes—”

Then he comes, clenching tight around Hob with a gasp. His body spasming pushes Hob over the edge, too, and he holds Dream close as he spills in him, Dream letting out a low whine at the feeling.

When he’s recovered his breath, Hob carefully pulls out, and leans over Dream’s shoulder to catch his lips in a thorough kiss. Dream twists and tangles his fingers in Hob’s hair, humming into the kiss.  

“You know,” Hob observes, as they’re still tangled together, a smile tugging at his lips, “this is kind of how we got into this situation? Still didn’t talk about birth control, either.”

Dream grumbles, pulling back far enough to look at him. “I can hardly get pregnant twice at the same time.”

“Didn’t think you could get pregnant once,” Hob says. “I wouldn’t put anything past you, love.”

“I vow that I will not get pregnant again,” Dream concedes, with a long-suffering sigh.

“Retroactively?”

“Hob.”

Hob laughs at his aggrieved tone, squeezing him tight. “Even if you did, it’s alright. We’d make it work. I doubt dealing with two is something you’d want right now, though.”

“I certainly would not,” says Dream. “Your daughter is already very demanding.”

“She’s my daughter when she’s being demanding?”

“Correct,” says Dream haughtily, and Hob kisses him again.

“Then she’s your daughter when she’s making things float in my living room,” he tells him.

“Float,” Dream echoes. “Perhaps. I’m uncertain exactly how her powers will manifest in the Waking. It is clearer to me in the Dreaming, although all dreamers have some ability to mold the dreamspace around them, part-Endless or not.”

“I’m definitely feeling so prepared for it.”

Dream quirks a smile. It seems to be at Hob’s expense. “I am sure you will manage. You’ve endured greater challenges.”

“Have I?”

Dream only continues to smirk at him, somewhat wickedly, so Hob tousles a hand in his hair and gets up. “Stay there, my prince. Let me do all the work.”

“I shall,” Dream says, lying back and sprawling out in the sheets. Hob just shakes his head fondly as he turns to the bathroom.

--

After he’s cleaned them both up—Dream certainly not lifting a finger for any of it—he holds Dream against his chest, Dream with his head tucked under Hob’s chin and one leg slung over Hob’s thigh. Maybe this is one reason he refuses to have an actual pregnant belly. He wouldn’t be able to lie like this comfortably if he did.

He combs his fingers through Dream’s hair, and Dream hums in pleasure, making a low purring sound that rumbles through Hob’s chest. If only it could be like this always, Hob thinks. Or at least, until the baby’s born, and for some time after. Dream doesn’t have to work himself to the bone. He can have this for longer.

“Be sure to stay for a while, yeah?” he says. “Don’t go back right away. Take a nap and then I’ll make you breakfast and— just, you know. Stay.”

Dream doesn’t explicitly agree, but he tucks his nose into the hollow of Hob’s throat. At least it’s quieter here for him, Hob thinks. He needs the peace. Even if it doesn’t last.

“Love you, you know,” Hob says, pressing a kiss into Dream’s hair. “Whatever you decide.” And he holds him long into the morning.

[val-cansalute]

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch.4

a/n - took ages cuz school is kicking my ass. somewhat sensitive content in terms of mental health but nothing that bad, nothing big really happens this chapter, creds to cafekitsune for dividers.

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 3

ch. 5

ch. 6

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your body, mind and soul are pulsating, a nauseating wave of dread overcoming you with each heartbeat.

“Come on, just fucking do it!”

“I can’t! Shit!”

“Please! Fuck!”

“I can’t…”

“Bug… Listen to me… I know it’s cruel… But you have to do this-”

“No… No, I can’t, Soren. I can’t.”

“Please, Bug… Please… I’m so sorry…”

You can still close your eyes and picture the way back to the home you shared with him. It could be a million miles far out but you’d still find the way. You’ll go back soon, trace your fingertips over the walls you scrubbed clean - place fresh flowers where he lays, if you’re able to bring yourself to.

So, just breathe in, breathe out.

Clad in the rugged clothes you are now shakily fidgeting with the ends of, you walk through the open door and merge with the scattering of people across the bar’s floor.

First time going to one of these things.

Why did you come here? What, in god’s name, were you thinking?

It was supposed to be a farewell of sorts. A final look over the people of Jackson.

They are the ones you never felt compelled to get to know. The half-healed-wounds, cuts incessantly reopened by the fragments of all that was lost in the turmoil, beared deep within. None of you will ever stop carrying those shards with you, though they cut you up from the inside-out.

The one thing that keeps you all entwined, like the roots of an aspen tree, is love and loss, heart-wrenchingly deep. But these people were capable of letting themselves be free.

You do not want to forget. You do not want to stay here, where the edges become blunt with time and comfort; you’ve become a drunkard on the pain. To be without it leaves you with deafening guilt, and thoughts so dense that they consume your mind wholly, flooding out all else.

They buzz, faces livened by the gentle orange glow of the lighting. You watch from outside the harmony and stop your eyes when they discover, among the many clusters of people, three familiar faces.

Ellie, Dina and Jesse sat at a table on rusted foldable chairs, carrying glasses of alcohol and a rhythmic laughter. She looked undeniably breathtaking, Ellie.

Your recollection of her would present the least cracks. She is the one you spent the most time with, got to know the best - in more ways than one.

But she made your chest ache. You joked and giggled, but within the depths of the interludes, you felt the sinking dread that takes over when you let yourself forget the ache. And watching her from a distance, when she was so blissfully unaware of the effect she had on you, made you feel both empty and consumed with regret, because you should not be wasting your emotions and time on such an insignificant infatuation.

She could up and leave without a second thought only minutes after making you breathless. She gently lifted you out of your thoughts and then plunged you back into their murky waters like it was nothing.

You can sit there and pretend your eyes don’t sting as you chew at the flesh of your bottom lip, but they’re bloodshot, and you’re blinking erratically.

Fuck it. Might as well go over, right? It’s not like you’re gonna get the chance to again.

So, with hesitant steps, you exit the comfort of the shadowy corner and venture out into the open, making your way through the labyrinth of bodies to get to Ellie. Her face gradually comes into focus and you notice the endearing pink tinge in the freckle-spattered apples of her cheeks as she grins. She's tipsy. Maybe that will make this easier to push through.

Shaky hands - you focus on seizing back control over them before tapping her shoulder gently. And maybe it's the sentiment of this being your final goodbye, but the warmth that radiates through her hoodie, the soft wisps of baby hairs at the base of her neck, and the dazed look in her eyes when they meet yours, woven with fine forest green threads and dilated pupils, all make your stomach churn with longing.

"Hey," her voice is barely above a whisper against the deep sound of Jesse's laughter, gentle and inviting.

"Hey."

She pulls a chair closer and nods to it, so you sit quietly, pretending to ignore the glances Ellie sends your way. She clears her throat.

"Uh... Sorry, I left in such a hurry. I mean, I would've, you know, stayed, but- if that's what you would've wanted-"

"It's good. You're good."

God, her obvious nervousness gives you some sick sort of satisfaction.

Her lips part, and you know she wants to ask you something more, but the words die in her throat and she turns to face her laughing friends with a scratch of her neck.

“Would you have… Fuck, never mind,” she mutters, leaning forward, avoiding your gaze, but it’s okay because you’re avoiding hers too.

You hesitate, “… Wanted you to stay?”

And she finally looks at you, the quiet between you hanging heavy. She’s desperately trying to gauge your reaction.

“… Yeah… Would you?”

“… Sure.”

You wish you could talk to her about it, but talking about it is so fucking tiring - with no idea where to start or where to stop, and so much you know you’ll regret saying to the point of nausea.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips, and you can tell she's trying to feign thoughtfulness despite her clouded mind finally being offered relief. That's a definite green light.

Between the lulls in conversation and bouts of laughter, a whole other world of unspoken affection builds between the two of you. Ellie's hand finds the hem of your sleeve and fidgets with it, fingertips grazing your skin too often to be dismissed as accidental before she eventually gives in and interlocks your fingers with hers.

Your stomach feels warm and your heart feels full, digging up the confidence to trace small, gentle circles into the roughened skin of her hand with your thumb. Maybe the blush that's deepening behind the mottle of freckles shows that the genuineness of this made it's way through your touch and to her.

You're going to miss her; you cannot deny that.

And, god, you wish that you could stay stagnant in this moment forever, but conversations drag on and the clock ticks tirelessly.

The thought of becoming attached to anyone again claws cruelly at your skull; it skews up your insides and churns up the acid in your stomach.

The thought of getting too close is terrifying; you can’t risk it, you cannot bear the loss. Never wanna go through it again. Never wanna feel this pain.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Soren.”

“I don’t- I can’t turn into them, Bug, please… Please don’t let me…”

You’re already panicking.

Staggered, you rise to your feet, and Ellie's widened, bewildered eyes shoot to yours when you rip your hand out of her hold. Maybe they remain on you as you rush haphazardly out of Joel's place and back to yours, but you'll never know because you don't spare her a glance over your shoulder.

Ellie’s nails are jagged and short, the skin behind them red and angry. It hurts, but she keeps biting, trying desperately to exert some of her fear.

She hopes others don’t notice her change in demeanour following your sudden departure, since even that went unnoticed amidst the festivities of the evening, and judging by the slack-jawed, barely-present faces surrounding her, she had no reason to fret.

The look on your face was deeper than discomfort, beyond the realm of any possible effects of her touch. It was pained. It was worrisome.

So worrisome, that she’s still sat in the same spot half an hour later, hunched over and chewing up her non-existent nails, in deep concentration. Maybe you felt overwhelmed. Maybe she was coming on too strong.

And she can’t bear it. So, she gets up almost as abruptly as you did and pats her jacket pockets in search of apology weed, in case she pushed a boundary earlier (it will make a piece of her die, but she’ll suggest staying friends), before she makes her way out in spite of the slurred sound of her friends calling out to her.

Ellie powers through the harsh cruelty of Jackson’s winter to get to your dingy little home. The sight of her warm breath whirling as it wafted up from her lips looks like a ribbon dance, but her mind is racing so intensely that she can’t admire it.

Eventually, she arrives at your doorstep. It’s always an unnerving sight - not a single sign of life escapes your home; from outside, it looks abandoned. Even more so than usual.

Three timid knocks to reflect her hesitation, and on the last thump, the door swings open upon contact with her knuckles.

Fuck. Still gotta fix that lock, huh.

The room is pooled with darkness that is tinged blue by the moon’s glow seeping in. But even amid the darkness, Ellie’s heart has dropped to the pit out of her stomach, because she can tell it’s sparse; all the trinkets and belongings once scattered around are replaced by designs imitating their shapes within the fine layer of dust clinging to each surface. It’s clean, too clean, and most of all, you aren’t here.

You are not here.

“Hey!”

She steps in, eyes darting around the room, hoping desperately to find you laying somewhere.

“I brought weed!”

An eternal whirring interlaces with the silence; the quiet rhythmic hum of your absence, and it’s jarring.

Then, she notices it, sitting crumpled, corner beneath the base of a book, upon your desk. A rough sheet of paper.

“ To whoever finds this,

sorry bout Star? Joey

Blossom Shimmer? the horse. ”

Fuck. You left Jackson.

And you still don’t know any of the damn horse’s names.

[uchihaharlot]

Hello! I hope you are fine <3🤲💗

I wanted to ask you about some Uchiha HCs as parents (especially Shisui haha). Idk, things like "How they would react if their Y/N told them they were going to be parents" or "How many children would they have if they had them and how would they treat them?"

🥹 mmm Shisui. Yes. 🙌🏻 Since I’m in a fog, I’ll choose Obito and Shisui — I will probably add more later and reblog then. Focusing more on Shisui though.

(I sort of expanded on this a bit. Leading up to birth etc).

Suggestive themes — mostly N/SFW; pregnancy reactions; and some other cute shit idk how to categorize. Ok yea, I went a bit crazy on Shisui, he’s my blorbo.

Obito:

• Even if it’s planned, he’s going to spiral. It worked on the first time? Duh, Uchiha. Really just stupid luck.

• ‘Already?’ — Obito; ‘….I mean…that’s what happens when you have sex..’ — her. She’s so patient though with him.

• Obito will spend the next few days not necessarily moping, but in minor distress. The whole thing about having a baby this soon, even though it was planned. Has really got him thinking.

• ‘I need to get my shit together.’ He’s not wrong, but they’re not in a bad place. All the financial matters were sorted out before she even went off the pill. She’s going to spend a lot of time easing his worries when he should be settling hers.

• He thinks they can’t have sex anymore 😂 ‘I’ll hurt the baby.’ This woman will have to coax him to satisfy her needs and being hormonal, he’s going to get scared and cave.

• Every time she’s sick, he’s sick. lol. Obito is one of those husbands that are sympathy ill when their wife is unwell, pregnant or not. Though the morning sickness he had worse than her.

• When she actually starts showing, the tables are turned. Obito can’t keep his hands off her. This is amazing! ‘I put that in you…’ —🫠 👈🏻 her. Yea, he did, that big dummy stuffed her good.

• When she is too big to do anything for herself, Obito takes center stage in everything. He matured rather quickly, strange how the prospect of becoming a dad alters an individual.

• 😅 Hit it from the back too rough and ultimately the orgasm she had made her go into labor (I know this is false advertisement but it’s Obito, he’s that guy).

• Nearly passes out as his wife is sprawled up on the stirrups, looks anyways and dear lord, ‘are you recording this?’ She says. Yea, he is. Unintentionally the sharingan populates and he might as well.

• Holds his son for the first time and cries. I think most men do, he’s the most precious thing in this world. Obito didn’t think he could ever make up for what he did in the past, but this one human. This tiny, itty bitty baby boy might just be his Hail Mary. That he could even bring something so good into the world makes him soften even more.

Shisui:

• Family man. 100%. They’ve been trying, and it’s not taking. Not because they’re incapable of it, both healthy and young. He’s just so busy. The days they end up trying don’t line up with her cycle and I mean they’re not just going to not have sex. Any chance he gets to put a bit of him and a little Uchiha inside her are precious moments.

• Firm believer in holding her legs up for a half hour 😂 ‘it has to marinate.’ Big eye rolls from his wife, who just lets him do things his way. After a few months, she finally begs him to just take a week off when she’s the most susceptible of his seed taking root.

• The mere idea that she is rearing and ready to go has Shisui taking his wife at the most unexpected of times. Maybe a week off was a good idea. Needless to say, the house chores are piling up. She wasn’t particularly fond of being shoved head first in the dryer either.

• ‘Making baby is the fun part…’ is his excuse when she chides him for it. Dear lord, this man shooting blanks and still trying.

• Then the unimaginable is announced, well not unimaginable but it felt like too long to actually confirm they were successful. Shisui from this point forward makes sure his pregnant wife gets everything she wants and then some.

• There is no shock period. This was all planned, Shisui is eternally grateful that his wife will be ushering their next of kin into the world. All the hard work is on her now and he is going to make sure she is treated like royalty.

• Though he questions some of her cravings, ‘…really? Ok….’ He won’t judge her, but goddamn it’s not something he’d eat.

• Copious amounts of pampering. Spends ridiculous amounts of money to have her swollen feet pedicured once a month, if she doesn’t want that he will do it himself. Her care is nonnegotiable and she is getting big with life inside of her! She needs some reprieve from the constant drain on her body.

• We aren’t even going to lie, they pretty much have sex up until the baby is born, though not like how Obito did. It’s maybe twice a week, which is less often but enough. If she’s not in the mood for it herself, she would offer to relieve him. Though he might feel guilty, so he would just use his mouth in return if she wasn’t opposed to something less invasive on her aching body. She’ll agree, Shisui is talented in those regards.

• She was making tea in the kitchen when her water broke, Shisui was out on a mission!!! She had to get Itachi to send word of bird and less than an hour he’s back. Exhausted and tired, he made it for the birth. He knew that he shouldn’t have taken that mission but she was adamant he do what he felt necessary for their village. Such a understanding woman!

• Is planting kisses to her forehead, cheeks and lips whenever she starts pushing. Holds one of her legs when the baby is finally crowning, and watches the miracle of birth. The fruit of their passion and love is wayfered into this big world. So beautiful and precious. A son, I often hc Shisui would name his first son Kagami. (I’m pretty sure the series alluded them being related).

• 🥹🥹🥹🥹 👈🏻 shisui 👉🏻 🥴😴 his wife after labor. He is wholly enamored at the tiny being in his arms. Takes the time to figure out which features their baby got from who. Undoubtedly this kid has his mop head of curls. Her nose and eye color, his eye shape and ears. 100% them.

[moonstruckme]

hi there, you did a james drabble some time ago with financially insecure reader and i'm just wondering if that's something you'd write again! maybe one where james is showering the r in gifts and they're just thinking "this is so expensive, you shouldn't be spending so much on me" and james comforts them? totally fine if you don't though, thank you anyway 💐

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: reader is financially insecure

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

When you go to put on your shoes, yours aren’t there. In their place is a lookalike pair, but whole and squeaky clean where yours are worn and dirty. 

“Jamie?” you call. Excitement and dread mixing up in your gut until they’ve become one thing. 

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend’s head pops out of the kitchen. His eyes fall to where you’re sitting on the floor, the new pair of shoes in front of you, and his smile breaks out like a sunrise. “Oh, yeah. I got you something.” 

“They’re for me?” You hold the one shoe up in front of you like a foreign object, speechless. 

James laughs. “Well, they’re not likely to fit me. Yeah, angel, they’re yours.” 

Something guilty twists in your gut. You take a breath. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no big deal.” 

“It is. And I appreciate it, but—” 

“But?” 

“But I can’t accept these.” You set the shoes back down on the floor, looking up at him remorsefully. “It’s too much.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs. He leans his hip against the wall, giving you a fond look. “Don’t be silly. You needed a new pair. Your old ones are torn to shreds.” 

“They’re not that bad,” you say embarrassedly. 

“There’s a rip in the side big enough to stick your entire foot out of.” 

“I know they’re not perfect.” Your voice goes a tad sharp, and James’ smile starts to slip as he realizes he’s the only one who’s joking. “I’m going to get another pair eventually, but I just can’t afford it right now.” 

“Hey.” He lowers himself down onto his haunches next to you, voice and expression going extra gentle. “It’s okay. Now you don’t need to worry about it, because you have them, right?” 

You suck on your bottom lip, feeling your expression pinch as you shake your head at him. He doesn’t get it. How could he? James has never been in a position where he was forced to take and couldn’t afford to give. 

“I know you’re just trying to help,” you say, tempering your tone, “and I really do appreciate it, Jamie, but you give me so many gifts and I—” 

“Okay, hold on.” He sets a hand on your knee, still with that indulgent look on his face. “There haven’t been that many.” 

You give him an exasperated look. Just last week it had been chocolates from the fancy shop downtown, and before that he’d gone back for a skirt you’d passed by because it was out of your price range. You know he hasn’t forgotten. 

“But how many have I given you?” 

James blinks. “Um. You gave me that nice waffle iron for my birthday.” 

It sounds like a lame gift when he says it out loud, compared to all the things he’s gotten you since then, but you’d skimmed savings off the tops of your paychecks for three weeks to get him that. Your face is beginning to feel hot. You’re not ashamed of how much you make, but it’s frustrating to think about how your boyfriend won’t ever be able to understand the way you think about money, why you get so stressed out about it, how you’re constantly worried it will run out. 

“It just makes me uncomfortable to take so many things from you when I can’t give anything back,” you admit. “I know that’s not why you’re doing it, but it makes me feel bad.” 

James’ brows press close together. His hand smooths from your knee up your thigh, and you can see how hard he’s trying to understand. It makes you feel even worse. 

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “You know I don’t care if you get me things, right?” 

“I know,” you promise him. “It’s just, I care.”

He nods, a warm sort of concern in his expression. “Then what do you want to do, angel?” 

You take his hand from your leg, tracing the lines with your fingers. “Maybe we could keep gifts to birthdays and holidays?” you ask tentatively. 

“Hm. Yeah, I think I can manage that. Like Easter?” 

You smile down at his hand. Kiss one of his fingertips. “Maybe only the traditionally gift-giving holidays.” 

James sighs heavily, but it’s for show. “Fine. Hey.” He closes his fingers around yours, and you look up to find him studying you with soft, kind eyes. “You know I’m not upset, right?” 

You drop your gaze again. “I’m just sorry I’m not being more grateful. They’re really nice gifts.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he leans closer, touching his lips to yours sweetly, “but I don’t need you to be grateful. I’m glad you told me how you felt. It’s only fun if you enjoy them, yeah?”

“I do enjoy them,” you say. James smiles, bringing your hand to his face and kissing your palm. 

“Good. Then keep the shoes, please? If you keep using those other ones through winter I’m afraid your feet will fall off.” 

[quibbs126]

could you do a blackberry x adventurer fankid if you havent already pretty please :3

I can’t really say that I made this because of the aforementioned “I haven’t drawn anything in a while” post, it’s just because I was scrolling through my requests and remembered that I was in the middle of drawing her before and thought “might as well finish”

Anyways sorry, this is Blackberry Scone Cookie

So if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t entirely know what her deal is. I know that, unlike her father, she is very willing to acknowledge that she’s rich and uphold that side of her family. She’s also at least outwardly, very similar to her mother in being generally reserved in her emotions. I think one idea I had for her is that she does cool things, she just does with a disinterested face, which kind of just heightens the coolness

Okay so I’m gonna be completely honest, I am now going to just make something up as I write. That top part was in part for me to figure something out

Outwardly, she seems disinterested, but she has plenty of emotions, you just either need to pay attention to her actual words instead of tone, or you just need to get close enough to her for the mask to fall. She also has quite an interest in stories of magic and in mystical artifacts, though she prefers simply reading about them over going out to find them. Also, despite her interest in the subject, she just doesn’t have that much of an ability for magic/the occult, and has difficulty seeing ghosts (best she has is that she can sometimes see Onion), which is one of the reasons she sticks to simply reading about them rather than going out herself

While she has respect for her father in how he goes out on his own to seek out treasure and artifacts, she just doesn’t understand why he hates his rich life. Her only real guess is that he sees it as clashing with his adventurer persona, which she thinks is kind of stupid. She’s also pretty much the one running the estate while he’s gone (she’s an adult by this point) and being the one to actually deal with things such as house guests. Not to say Adventurer was an absent parent, and he’d actually take her along when she was younger on some of his expeditions, but he can disappear sometimes now

She doesn’t hate her parents, and it’s not like they were horrible parents to her, but she feels distant from her mother due to her lack of ghost abilities, and some amount of resentment for her father for being so attached to this persona of his and his disdain for his actual heritage, especially since she’s fully accepting of it and it unintentionally makes her self conscious about it

She’s not super sure of her place in the world, but for now she’s just trying to do her job as a member of a rich family

Hm, so I ended up writing more on her than I thought I would. Ah well, not a bad thing. Well, design time

So her name’s Blackberry Scone due to me headcanoning Adventurer to be some sort of shortbread or biscuit (I know they’re the same thing in other countries, but I’m unsure as to what kind of biscuit he is now). Scones are kind of like biscuits, add some blackberry and there you go, blackberry scones

A potential name was Blackberry Cobbler, but I think I prefer scone, especially since I made her more rich-seeming

Blackberry scone:

So almost everything I made of her, outside of the small sketches and some of the colors, I made a couple weeks ago while waiting at the dentist’s office, and I mostly blocked her out of my mind after that as a result. So I don’t really remember a lot of the design process

I feel like I gave her that hairstyle to make her look “cool”, but then I kind of threw that aspect of her character away. But I still like it, so she keeps it

Also, her suit was originally a bit more reddish, but I changed it today to make it more purple so it’d fit with the color of the scones. They don’t really look that red, so I changed it. But I think now the colors may not all look the best together

I feel like I may have made her colors all a bit too similar to each other, and/or not given her enough, but I don’t really know what else to change

Also when I came back today, the thickness of the lines was bothering me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been dabbling with the Syrup brush now, but I think I need to play with line width more now, since some of the smaller things like the brooch feel like they have too thick of lines

I don’t think her design is necessarily bad though, it’s mostly color wise I have issues with

And yeah, that’s Blackberry Scone, I hope you enjoy her

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 20

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

M!troll x f!reader

1.2 k words

Two steps forward and one step back. Just because both of you admitted to wanting more doesn’t mean there’s not still a lot of unknowns and worries.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

————

Zen had pulled the covers up and over both of you, trying to block out the light while you very gently played with his hair to help him fall asleep. Medicine, tea, and left over pastries all consumed, it was now just time to sleep it off.

“I did not do anything too bad, did I?” he asked cautiously.

“What? When you were drunk last night?” you asked back.

“Yeah”.

“Nothing bad but you were an absolute pain when I was trying to wipe your face off. You kept trying to cuddle and nuzzle, which would have been sweet if you weren’t drenched and really needed your face cleaned”.

“Well, if that is the worst of it then that is not that bad, and it seems you did manage to eventually wipe me off at any rate”.

“I had to straddle you and pin you down to get you to hold still enough”.

“That is still not bad really, and I quite like being under you” he purred.

“I could tell, because when I tried to just lay on you and cuddle afterwards you wouldn’t stop grinding on my leg”.

“Oh” he said sounding a little embarrassed now.

“I ended up giving you a hand so to speak”.

“As in…?”

“As in you told me you liked my hands since they’re small and soft and feel better than using yours” you hinted.

“Oh spirits” he groaned.

“It’s fine” you smiled against his chest, “I mean you were such a good boy for me after all”.

You could not help but enjoy the soft sigh he let out in response to your words, how much he enjoyed the praise was rather endearing.

“And that is it? That is everything that that happened?” he asked.

“Well you got your shirt stuck on your tusks and couldn’t get it off, so I had to rescue you from that. And then you ended up getting cum all on your chest and stomach and when I went to get up to grab a washcloth to help you clean up you pulled me on you again so we both ended up being sticky”.

“I am so sorry” he sounded mortified now.

“It’s just cum. I mean I didn’t want to sleep sticky but it’s fine”.

“But that is it though?”

“Well” you began again, “You also told me that swallowing after the blowjob was attractive and were very concerned that it made you weird for liking it. Oh, and then even after you finished you still were grinding between my thighs so at that point I just rolled over and let you fuck my thighs until you fell asleep”.

Zen stayed silent, shifting uncomfortably for a while before finally saying something, “I am so sorry for how I acted, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable”.

“Uncomfortable? Zen you never made me uncomfortable. I was a little frustrated when you wouldn’t hold still for me to wipe your face, and sure I wouldn’t have chosen to sleep covered in cum, but you didn’t do anything wrong. We got drunk, you ate me out, then you drunkenly babbled and were horny, all very normal things” you assured him. You figured he would probably be a bit embarrassed over the babbling, but this was not the reaction you expected.

“Why would you think I was uncomfortable?” you asked.

“I was pushy, right?”

“No, you really weren’t. And even when I turned you down you didn’t push back or anything. I know I got weird and quiet earlier when you were talking but that wasn’t because of yesterday, I’m just not used to that sort of intensity, it’s wasn’t because you humped my leg” you laughed, hoping to drag Zen out of the beginning of what seemed to be a panic spiral.

“I did not want to get married” he said quietly.

“And I didn’t want to leave my kingdom. But this is where we are now and I don’t think it’s a bad place to be”.

“I know, and I am happy having you in my life so please do not be upset, but you always expected an arranged marriage even if this is not exactly how you expected it. I expected to ever marry, and if I did then I assumed it would be to someone I grew to know and love over time. I still do not know what to do. I never got the chance to love someone, to be together with someone truly, and now I do not know to do this”.

You kissed his chest and then nuzzled the spot you kissed. “I don’t know if it makes you feel any better, but I’ve never had the chance to have a relationship either, so this is all new to me too. And I never expected to actually have a real relationship in an arranged marriage, but this is honestly better than I expected to have”.

“I truly am glad that this is not awful for you, I would not be able to stomach it if you were miserable here, and I do not mean to sound callous, but I worry that while this is better than expected for you that it is not enough for me”.

It stung, and you were happy Zen could not see your face to see the hurt on it. The two of you rarely spoke about the conditions of your marriage, it was not like either of you could change it after all, but especially after he had just spoken about getting to know you and courting you it hurt to hear how upset over things he sounded.

“I thought you just said wanted to court me” you mumbled.

“I do. I want to get to know you, and fall for you, and know that if we met and got the chance to choose that I could say I would have chosen you, and you me. But I still barely know you and I hate that. I hate that you barely know me and I worry that we will get to know each other and not like the people we are.

“And maybe it is selfish, but I hope you will love me one day. I do not want a marriage where my wife just tolerates me, or is just alright with me. I want to be a good husband and person who you can love” he paused, “And I want to love you” he added quietly.

You had always been alright with the idea of loveless marriage as long as your husband was decent enough. It was fine for your parents, and everyone else in your social standing after all, it was just the culture.

Zen was kind, respectful, he took care of you, and was more than just a decent husband by far, but he needed things to be more than just decent between the two of you. He needed a lot more than you did.

“Then lets do that” you broke the silence.

“What?”

“Get to know each other better. We both already decided on that earlier anyways, and I know that now you’re worried about things not working, but I like the idea of loving my husband. I’d like to try” you nuzzled against him, hoping to reassure him.

He tightened his grip on you, and while it was faint you heard a slight purr, “I’d like that too”.

————

Part 21

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen (won’t let me tag you)

[licorice-tea]

The Way Things Go

Pairing: Kaku x reader

Content: strawhat reader, kaku calls reader “miss”, mild smut/ implied smut, sexual innuendoes and things, huge spoilers for water 7 and enies lobby!!!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: probably 2-3 more parts after this one… but idk yet… he’s so sleazy actually and i’m OBSESSED. anyway hope you enjoy! oh and if you want to be on the taglist (for this one or any other fics of mine) i have a post about it linked on my pinned!

Part 1

As promised, you meet Kaku in the small harbor where the Straw Hats hid the Going Merry when you all first arrived to Water 7 earlier that day. He’s already there when you arrive, and praises the craftsmanship of the ship from a distance. You answer all his questions about the ship- or as many as you’re able to, at least. Which brings about the question of “Who takes care of the damages?” so you have to explain how you haven’t really been able to get any repairs as long as you’ve all had her.

The two of you board the Going Merry, only to find Zoro “sleeping.” He cracks an eye open as the two of you walk by and almost says something to Kaku, who’s a stranger to the swordsman, then sees you and simply shrugs before dozing off once more.

Kaku observes certain parts of the ship, like the mast and even the floorboards, eventually having assessed nearly every area of the deck. Then he asks you to show him below deck, which you do, and give him a tour of the various rooms. He mainly just checks out the port windows and things like that, until you’ve gone through every room in the lower levels- well, all except one. When you reach the end of a particular hall and then turn back without letting him in to the room behind you, he points and asks, “And what might that room be?”

“Oh, that’s just my room.”

“Ah… I’d hate to intrude but, I do need to see all of the ship.” He doesn’t. He already knows this vessel is past the point of no return- it’s a miracle it’s even floating on the water right now. However, Kaku doesn’t want to tell you that quite yet. He’d hate to disappoint you and…. ruin his chances. Plus, he’s a little very curious to see what your room is like.

“… Um, just give me a second then, ok?” You excuse yourself into your room, and begin tidying up at a shocking speed. It’s already pretty neat actually, but you still go around the entire room making sure nothing is out of place. Once you’re sure there’s nothing lying about that shouldn’t be, you open the door to find him leaning in the frame. “Sorry about that, you can come in now.”

“No need to apologize, miss y/n. Kaku slips past you into your room- “Gosh, what a treat!” he thinks. Like this little glimpse into your private space is really a view of your mind, too. He makes his way over to the port window in slow strides, taking the opportunity to look at all of your little trinkets and decorations.

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks… I don’t usually bring guys straight to my room on a first date.” You mean it as a joke, but he takes it in full stride.

“Oh yeah? I guess I should count myself lucky then.”

“I… mhm.”

Kaku laughs, “So, maybe I’ll get extra lucky later on. “

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be.” He looks over at you, pausing his inspection of the port window and how stable (?) it is. “Just joshing you, miss, I should be the one apologizing for my… crude joke.”

You shrug and mumble under your breath, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh?” He walks closer, trapping you in the space between your bed and the wall and himself. It’s barely enough room for one person to stand in if they’re perpendicular to your bed, since it’s just a narrow space. (You have a sort of rational fear of waking up to water leaking through the wall and straight onto you and your sheets, so pushing the bed out a bit was a natural solution.) “Not a bad idea, or not a bad joke?”

“Not a bad-“

He cuts you off with his lips on yours, it waiting to hear your reply. Kaku wants you, and he knows he won’t get much time with you between everything that’s about to go down with CP9 (unbeknownst to you.) It’s sudden, and already quite deep right off the bat. His head is tilted more than a person usually would tilt their head upon entering a kiss to compensate for the length of his nose, but he’s anything but embarrassed- so long as it brings him closer to you and faster, it’s worth the strain on his neck. You would giggle if you weren’t so caught off guard by how he seems to overtake all your senses in mere moments. As proof of the shock to your system, the immediate closeness of the kiss leads you to open your lips in a slight gasp. Kaku sighs contentedly before sucking at your bottom lip, and you to hum in surprise. His hands find their place on the small of your back, and the tips of his fingers travel up and down your spine. You accept him, letting him continue sucking and smothering your lips with his while throwing your arms around his neck. It’s all happening very fast- but you like it.

After a few moments he pulls away, breathing heavily with a thin line of saliva still connecting your lips to his. He swipes it away by brushing his thumb over your lips, and wiping it off on the side of his pants (though still holding around your back with one hand.)

“What-“

“I hope you’ll excuse my-“ he pauses due to his panting, “rushing into things.”

“Y-yeah it’s fine, I was just…” his lips ghost over yours once more, so close you can feel his breath fanning over your skin. “Surprised.”

This time, you’re the one to close the distance and tighten your arms around his shoulders. There’s an underlying sense of need, somewhere deep within you, that hadn’t been there when you’d first walked onto the ship. No, it was his actions and words- the way he looked at you now with such a want in his eyes- that caused this. Of course, you’d already been attracted to him, but you certainly wouldn’t have been the one to make the first move like he had so early on. Yet here you are, making out with a man you just met earlier in the day.

But then you feel his knee slotting itself between your legs, and whine before you come to your senses. You push down his thigh, “We can’t.”

“Mmph- why not?”

“I just met you.”

He chuckles, though it’s more evident in the shake of his shoulders than any audible laughter. “That would be a mighty fine reason.”

“Yeah… I- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, y/n. Is it ok if I just call you that?”

You smile and nod. Two seconds ago his tongue was in your mouth, now he’s asking for permission to drop formalities- funny guy.

“Well, y/n, I don’t know how long you’ll be in town for, nor how busy I’ll be with work. I want to make the most of this time together.”

Kaku had known this was a bad idea from the start, in all honesty. But when Robin begged Spandam for safe passage for her crew-her friends- out of Water 7, and he’d seen your bounty poster along with the others, he was “struck by Cupid’s arrow.” And getting to meet you in person by coincidence was even better. He had fallen hard and fast, and now he wanted to keep things moving that way before you were gone from his life forever.

However, in fear of making you uncomfortable, he pulls away. Kaku makes it all the way to the other side of the room before you do something that surprises even yourself. You grab his wrist and walk backwards to your bed again, this time lowering yourself to sit on the plush comforter.

His hand interlocks with yours as you let yourself fall back completely. “You… are you sure, y/n?”

You nod. “I’m sure.” And, like the comedian you are, ask “Why? Do you not want to anymore?”

Kaku’s eyes roam over your body, all laid out just for him. His fingers trace your side and come to rest on your hip, giving you a gentle squeeze. “N-no, I want to. I want you.”

With the hand he isn’t inadvertently pining to the bed, you draw his face closer to yours so you can kiss him again. He exhales shakily and all but climbs on top of you, slotting his knee between your legs once more.

You pray, for Zoro’s sake above deck, that he isn’t too loud a lover.

Taglist: @imaginarydreams