#and to this day i'm still deeply unwell about it

[seasaltandcopper]

the urge to rewatch supernatural pit against the knowledge that I cannot be normal about that show and i'm not sure i'm ready to reawaken that in myself again

[shieldwife]

also worth saying that this is driving me to writing thg fanfic bc I'm genuinely pissed off, but my favourite way of engaging with thg isn't even with canon characters at this point. it's through thinking about two ocs I've had for years that I mentally refer to as "toxic fishermen yuri", and I'm incapable of writing extensively abt anything related to thg that doesn't involve them lol

[iralthegreat]

Why does everything have to be so complicated blughrurjrjsjrn

[pillowspace]

Do you have any info on the ISAT Audience of Vaugarde AU you'd be willing to share? (Only if you wanna!!) :o

I'm really curious about it, I have SO many questions

During the loops, Loop would only ever see the faintest signs of a presence, but nothing that'd confirm one. They always thought it was just a bad memory springing up, like a faint scent or the faintest whisper of a familiar voice. The Audience watched everything. Sometimes, some would follow behind Siffrin into the House, while someone else would remain with Loop at the Favor Tree. Loop was rarely ever left alone. I imagine that, whenever some would follow Siffrin, they saw things they would have rather not, but there's not much to do but chat amongst themselves and spectate. It does give perspective to what Loop may have gone through though, so it's not like they wouldn't Understand Loop by the time the loops were broken.

I have nothing to say about this, I just want to note that I need to draw the bad touch event someday with Loop and Isabeau just STARING from the tree like [Live Loop Reaction] and [Live Isabeau Reaction], it's really funny to me.

Nobody was really too sure what to call Loop during the loops, constantly hesitantly switching between names. Eventually Mirabelle suggested they just stick to Loop if they can't ask, so they did. But I'd like to imagine that, once before that, Loop had caught a close familiar whisper of "Siffrin" and felt... unwell.

AFTER 2hats but BEFORE Loop reappears in the world is what this first drawing is. It's Loop's "in this moment, you are loved," but it's so hazy that it might as well have been a dream for them. Think of it like how at the start of In Stars and Time, the star is shown being eaten, and Siffrin wakes up.

Loop's still in Vauguarde, but they have NO idea where they are when they wake up. Their head is human, but not the rest of their body. Their hair is long and tangled and greasy, as if their hair had always been growing just out of sight. Some sort of barrier has been broken between Loop and the Audience, so as the days pass, the voices slowly grow clearer, and Loop starts slowly... seeing things.

Loop needs somewhere to stay, so an older woman lets them stay at her house. Let's call herrrr... Smithing One?? This is only a temporary arrangement.

If I draw Loop with really messy greasy hair and little to no clothing, that's the stage in which Loop is deeply afraid of any sign of the Audience's company. Example from a previous drawing:

If I draw Loop with hair slightly better taken care of and in a headband holding the overgrown middle piece back, Loop's now tense and nervous around the Audience but won't panic anymore, and will often communicate back. (Note: don't interpret this as Loop not liking them! Loop loves them very deeply and suffered a lot of grief, there's just a lot of feelings of fear and reopened wounds clashing.) I think maybe partway through this stage, Loop leaves Smithing One's house to go travel. Example from a previous drawing:

There is a stage I haven't drawn yet where Loop is entirely happy with the Audience and a lot more healed. I'm guessing Loop will have a high ponytail, and some hair accessory holding back the middle piece or something like that. I would like to draw that at some point.

After learning that Loop can't handle being called Siffrin and is only settling for the mild discomfort "Loop" brings, Odile will start calling them Little Crow, as per chipper-smol's reply:

I'm out of things to mention honestly, feel free to ask whatever you want

OH yeah. By the way, I do want Loop and Siffrin to reunite at some point, I'm just not sure how yet... The thing is, the Audience isn't actually ghosts. They're LIKE ghosts, but they're not dead. As I've said, Loop's first wish to stay with their friends simply merged with their second wish for help, so the Audience is more so just oddly disconnected from reality. Maybe after a lot of time has passed, the Audience is so tangible that anyone can see them, even if they have a little bit of an off air to them (and maybe they still can vanish at will). So... surprise! Siffrin's party would eventually realize that they ALSO have alternate versions of themselves walking around. Ohhh wait, wouldn't it be fun if one accidentally met their clone in a public place before ever even being aware of Loop's supposed "audience"? And Siffrin never wanted to talk about Loop's business to his family, so they never even found out what Loop was at all? Something in me tells me that it'd be most fun for it to be the Mirabelles to spot each other first

...............okay, now I'm out of things to mention

[hornedstorys]

Jason Todd x Reader - you are Pregnant and he saves you Part 2

Warnings: Dirt, breeding fetish, Jason has caught baby fever, you feel uncomfortable after giving birth because your body has changed, fear, blood. More Babydaddy Jason!

Synopsis: Jason loves his little family that you gave him, but he notices how uncomfortable you feel in your body and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, meanwhile he is haunted by the thought that you are carrying his children.

It had been a month since you gave birth to your little girl and Jason adored her. You were fortunate that she was really sound asleep and therefore a quiet child. Jason came home to you and the first thing he did was pull you into a big hug, which you gladly accepted. He loved smelling your scent, it made him feel at home and it eased his frazzled nerves.

Then he took his little girl out of the flu and she cooed at him delightedly. A grin was on the man's face as he lay down on the sofa with her on his chest and dozed. You watched her lovingly. It really was a sweet sight and you knew it was good for Jason to get some rest too. He was still a mercenary and was really falling on the road.Later that day, as you were preparing food, the tall man came up behind you and scrutinized your form. There was pure love in his eyes, but he didn't notice how you were lost in thought about how fat your belly looked today. You cut the vegetables and bit your lips.

"Did she fall asleep?" You asked him with a smile and he nodded.

"When does she not sleep," he chuckled and came to your rescue before you could resist.

"I think she gets that from her father. He was always the quiet type too," you mentioned casually and suddenly Jason's hand was gently on your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He inquired, his beautiful gray eyes looking at you searchingly. He wasn't stupid, he was like a bloodhound who just had a sense that you were unwell. You didn't know what was going on between you and Jason. He had almost moved in with you and he helped out everywhere, even after the pregnancy. He was a really good guy, but neither of you had ever said the three big words, even though deep in your heart you felt so much for him.

After the death of your partner, no man was good enough to take your place as a father, especially not a young woman who was already a mother. And now you still felt uncomfortable with your body. Stretch marks, excess skin and more flab than usual. Of course you knew that this was all normal, but your sex life was dead and it was somehow eating away at your self-confidence and self-esteem. You wanted love, lots of love, sexual love and the feelings for Jason almost drowned you because you just didn't know if he felt the same way. He had never kissed you, never just touched you anywhere, he respected you but he didn't say anything about his feelings.

"I'm fine, Jason," you lied, smiling wider. He looked at you skeptically, but he didn't ask any more questions, but suddenly he came closer to you and you felt the heat on your cheeks.

"You look really beautiful today, by the way," he breathed and your mouth fell open. You felt completely different.

"Oh no, look at me. I haven't showered, there's vomit on my top and I have dark circles under my eyes," your voice broke, you were so ashamed and you felt your eyes start to burn. You inhaled and exhaled deeply and avoided Jason's gaze. Jason tried to say something back, but you avoided him.

"(F/n) needs something to eat," with those words you left quickly and Jason looked after you, snivelling. He could feel that something was bothering you and he tore at his heart, but he thought you were beautiful and that you were a wonderful mother. It made him long for more, he missed your swollen belly that he could stroke, the kicks against his hand and your helplessness.

He loved protecting you and he would kill anyone who got too close or hurt you, the same for your daughter. He would love to say our daughter. He wanted to be a really solid part of your little world and he wanted to be there 24/7. The thought of you carrying his children excited him and at the same time made his heart beat faster. Jason never thought he would fall so much into the role of father, but he did and he fell deep and he fell even deeper for you. Damn, he wished he had the courage to tell you how he really felt. He was so close, he was so close to you and all that was missing was one last push.

That evening you were in your room and wanted to change. You were standing naked in front of the wardrobe, looking for your sleeping clothes, when suddenly the door opened and Jason walked in. He had to go on patrol and wanted to say goodbye to you both, because he might not have time to come by for the next two days.

When he saw you standing there naked, he stopped and his eyes widened as he took in every curve of you. You were beautiful and briefly he caught a glimpse of your breasts, he didn't want to stare, but the sight of you made him weaken. He was already in his full Red Hood uniform and his helmet was now held ironclad in his hand.You gave him a startled look and hid your breasts.

"Jason!?" He turned around immediately, as if you had snapped him out of his trance."I'm sorry. I just wanted to say goodbye," he entegenet you and wouldn't look at you again until you were dressed.

"It's all right, I have to apologize for making you look at that," you blurted out and immediately his head snapped in your direction and anger flooded through him. His look was uncomprehending.

"What are you talking about?" He growled and came towards you, you looked at him with wide eyes as he grabbed you and his face was only a few centimeters away from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your nose and his now storm gray eyes gazed intently into yours.

"You're fucking wonderful and you know it! You're beautiful and strong and damn I-" he broke off when he realized what he was about to say. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug and you wrapped your arms around him, still surprised.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered and gently pressed a kiss against your cheek. Your heart tightened at those words as memories came flooding back.

"Take care Jay," you breathed and he put on his helmet, his white eyes looking to you once more as he playfully gave you a military salute with his index and middle finger.

"I'll be back, (y/n). I promise."

Two days turned into three and Jason didn't come back. You sat anxiously on the sofa and poked your daughter, but she didn't really want a drink. She seemed to sense your anxiety and you swallowed hard. You were afraid that he wouldn't come back, just like your deceased partner. And slowly your fear really turned into panic.

You put the baby in the cradle, sighing, and paced restlessly back and forth in your apartment. You felt really sick.

Suddenly you heard a loud thud in your room and you immediately started moving. You felt nauseous and when you pulled open the door, there was a blood-covered figure lying on the floor.

"Jason!" You shouted and knelt down next to him. He groaned as you turned him onto his back, you gently but firmly removed the mask from his head and tears gathered in your eyes.

"Hey," he breathed and grinned crookedly at you, but you didn't feel like laughing. You carefully helped him up and took him to the smaller bathroom where you got rid of his clothes."Not so fast, aren't we still in the dating phase," he joked, but your cold gaze silenced him and he lowered his head.In just his underwear, he sat shakily on the toilet seat and you cleaned his wounds, then got the sewing kit and sewed them up. It made you shudder, but you had to do it. Carefully, you grabbed his light-colored mop of hair and pushed his face up. Your wet eyes looked into his and he looked at you apologetically.

"At least you kept your promise," you sobbed out and Jason's face screwed up as you threw yourself into his arms. He closed his eyes and hugged you tightly against him, not caring that everything hurt. You were more important.His sweaty forehead lay in the crook of your neck and he could feel your frantic heartbeat, beating like crazy against your ribcage. After a few minutes you disengaged and you helped Jason freshen up. He had cuts and bruises all over. Carefully, you wiped him down with a warm, wet sponge.

"How's (F/n)?" Came out of his mouth as you wiped his face. He almost felt like a child being washed by his mother, but he enjoyed your warm little hands on his bare skin. It gave him goose bumps.

"She's fine, but she was just as restless as I was today, Jason," you puffed, tossing the sponge and rag aside. Your gaze sought his and his gray eyes looked at you apologetically.

It was pretty late. You fed your daughter and took her briefly to Jason who was lying in your bed. His heart blossomed when he saw you with the baby in your arms and you sat down with him and put your arms around him (F/n). It always made her so happy to see Jason and her beady eyes lit up.

"Hello sweetie," he cooed and he had become much more confident with her than at the beginning. He had been afraid he would crush her or drop her, but you trusted him one hundred percent.

"So you two, bedtime," you smiled and took the little girl from him again and put her in the cradle, which was just opposite in the nursery.Exhausted, you fell into bed and Jason looked at you, partly amused and partly worried.

"I can sleep on the couch too. I'm used to it," he grinned and you shook your head.

"You stay here so I can keep an eye on you. With you, I have two kids in this apartment to look after," you paused as the one memory came up.

"But I still owed them something anyway, Jason. Now I've saved you for once," you joke weakly and Jason hums: "And I'm really grateful for that."

His gaze became more thoughtful as he scrutinized you.

"But I can think of a better way for you to return the favor," his gaze was serious, but loving. Your gaze became confused as your brows drew together.

"Take your clothes off"

"Excuse me!?"

You almost slapped him, but he didn't make any facial expressions, he didn't even look at you flirty. You closed your eyes and sighed, then took off your top and your pants. But you quickly covered yourself up.

"I know what a woman looks like," Jason said quietly, his eyes now twinkling with amusement. You blushed.

"That's not the point, Jason," you grumbled, suddenly flipping the covers off your body so he could really see everything except for the spot between your legs. But he wasn't staring at your genitals, but at your stomach and thighs.He hesitated, but carefully stroked over his thighs, up to your soft belly. You watched him with wide eyes.

"It's not nice," you sniffled.

"Bullshit! I'll tell you every day if I have to, but you're beautiful," Jason growled sternly, gently caressing your stomach. The backs of his hands touched the soft skin of your breasts and you closed your eyes, relaxed.

"You look much better than me," came out of your mouth and Jason grimaced, even though it pleased him at the same time that you liked him.

"It's the body of a dead man and murderer (Y/n). He's scarred," he took your hand and let you run it along his T-shaped scar. You stared in awe at the stitched tissue and swallowed hard. This man had suffered so much in his past.Suddenly his sultry hands gently stroked your hips and for a moment you forgot that you were lying naked next to him. Your hand was on the side of his neck and your eyes devoured each other. But Jason didn't want to wait any longer and gently pressed his lips to yours.

You opened your eyes at first, but then you gave in and kissed him back. A longing rose up inside you and he seemed to lose himself too. Because he pressed you closer against his chest and ran his fingers over his broad thighs, exploring. He gently kneaded the flesh and you gasped into his mouth, making him grin. You looked at him sheepishly.

"It's been a long time," you whispered with red cheeks.

"The stupid men who just let you goddess go. But now I'm here to give you the attention you deserve," he growled against your lips, gently stroking the sensitive skin. Now you were the one pressing your lips against his and Jason hummed in pleasure. Your tongue invaded his mouth and you playfully started a little fight that took both your breath away.

Jason now lay down gently between your legs. You could clearly see the big bulge in his underwear and he also noticed the wet spot on your underwear.

"You looked so good when you were pregnant," he cooed, gently stroking your breasts which were glowing with sensitivity. You moaned softly and bit your lips.

"Such a beautiful, swollen belly," he licked his lips as he watched white drops come out of your chest and your cheeks grew even redder. He leaned forward and gently licked the drop of sweet milk from your pebbled nipple.A gasp escaped your mouth and you grabbed his hair to hold on. You liked it far too much.

"You like that, don't you?" He teased, sucking harder on your breast which made you hiss. Your wet pussy was already throbbing and Jason's hard cock pressed against your clitoris.The next moment he ripped your underpants off and gently kneaded every bulge in your thighs. He had long forgotten his pain.

"I've so often imagined what you would look like, swollen with my seed," his eyes darkened with lust and this statement made you hold your breath. Had he just confessed to you that he wanted a child with you?"Jason," you started, but he didn't give you a chance to speak and hungrily he pressed his lips against your wet pussy and you moaned out as he caressed your sensitive bud. It made your legs tremble. His tongue was so warm and wet and you thrust your pelvis hopelessly towards him.

"Tell me what you want (Y/n)," with a smacking sound he broke away from you and looked deep into your eyes. You gasped pleadingly as he broke away from you.

"Do you want me to fill you with my seed?" Slowly, he ran his tongue over your clitoris again, but his gaze remained fixed on you. You moaned, "Yes please, Jason! Fill me, I need you!"

He didn't need to be told twice as he carefully rose up and settled between your legs. You were still sensitive down there after giving birth. But you were so ready to take every inch of this man he had you and there was definitely enough there.You wrapped your legs around his hips and Jason put his warm lips to yours, you could taste yourself and it made you whimper.

Slowly he entered you and you clung to his shoulders. It was unfamiliar, but at the same time it felt so good and intense.As Jason pushed deeper, you both groaned. He stretched you so well and the pain turned into something intoxicating. You thrust your hips towards him and he began to thrust.

But instead of going faster, Jason did it gently but deeply. He rested his forehead against yours and his scent fogged your mind, even without his jacket he still smelled of leather and gunpowder, but there was something else in the air, something metallic.

"You're doing so well, beautiful. Look at you, damn it," he growled and you whimpered. Your breasts bounced along and your belly and thighs bounced too and it only made Jason get harder.

"I can't wait to fuck you until you're carrying my baby," he moaned, his hips slamming harder against your ass. His cock tried to penetrate you even deeper and his thrusts became faster and harder.The room was filled with moans, gasps and the smacking sound of your pussy being stretched to the limit.

"Jason I-," the pressure in your abdomen built up and Jason understood immediately as he could feel you tighten around him. He took his fingers and started stroking your clit, it was just a gentle touch because he wanted to tease me. You gritted your teeth but moved against him more, the pressure in your abdomen kept building and you threw your head back as your orgasm hit you.

"Oh Jason! I love you!" You cried out as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed your body and your words sent jolts of electricity coursing through Jason's body as he buried his seed deep inside you.

Panting and wet with sweat, Jason still lay over you, looking into your eyes. Your embarrassment returned. You were at a loss for words.Panting, your foreheads lay against each other and Jason looked at you hopefully.

"I love you too (y/n)," he panted, kissing you deeply. You melted into the kiss. He kissed every inch of your body, every stretch mark, every dent.

"Do you believe me now that you're beautiful?" He asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded, still too dazed to say anything.

"You love me, Jason?" You breathed and softly the mercenary nodded at you.

"I loved you right after I rescued you back then. You gave me a sense of family and love, something I've been missing for a long time. I was afraid to tell you," he confessed and you gently placed your hand against his cheekHe leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and there was mischief in his eyes.

"That wasn't a lie, by the way, about 'I'll fuck you until you carry my child,' " he said, his eyes darkening again. You licked your lips and rolled your eyes.

"For now, you're already a father, Jason," you smiled softly at him and his look seemed surprised."Really?" he breathed and you nodded.

"She's not just my daughter, she's yours too, Jason. Ours."

Jason's chest swelled with happiness and love. Like a guard dog, he watched over you, watching you as you pressed against his broad chest. Comfortable and safe in his warmth.

He was so grateful to you for everything and he really wondered what he had done to deserve all this.

[mayasaura]

Gideon feels so unloved all the time and she doesn’t know that there are so many people who love her so much because those people keep forgetting to mention it to her face

I know what you mean. I want to just shake Harrow like a kitten to make her tell her!!

In way tho, to me, the tragedy of Gideon's life is that she feels unloved, and for the most part she's been right. She's bright, brilliant, funny, strong, dedicated, kind, stubborn, so so angry, and very loveable. And she hasn't been loved. Not enough, and not well enough by those that did.

Harrow's loved her... Probably their whole lives, but just try untangling that knot. She has a lot of ground to make up, and only got her shit together enough to start showing Gideon she loves her about sixteen hours before Gideon died. Sixteen hours, half of those spent asleep, against a lifetime of rejection. It's not really surprising Gideon doesn't believe her yet.

Aiglamene basically raised her, and she does love her, and I am deeply unwell about their relationship. I'm also a little glad Gideon never learned to associate the back of Aiglamene's hand with "love". That she knows there should be something better. I suspect—maybe I hope—Aiglamene did that on purpose.

Pyrrha has loved her since she was born, but she's only just barely met her. Her love didn't lead her down to the surface of the Ninth. She never tried to give her baby girl a funeral, and so never found out she was still alive. Her love did jackshit for Gideon all her life, and that might be hard for Gideon to get over.

There have been brushes with it, with other people. Palamedes, who was the closest thing she had to a friend outside Harrow. He held her hand and comforted her, and made sure she wouldn't be caught in his blast radius. Camilla who gave her medical care, and shared with her a mutual trust, and even made a joke at her expense once. Jeannemary, who thought she was super cool and died the same day Gideon first spoke to her. Coronabeth, who kissed her hand once and thought she was sweet. There was love there, with some, and the potential with others. None of these people knew her for more than the last few weeks of her life.

Gideon really truly hasn't been loved as a transitive verb. Someone finally telling her to her face would be a good start, but at this point I don't know what it's gonna take for her to trust. And I don't blame her.

[subskz]

Hehe I hadn't sent my innie ask yet it's okay! But now it's here and ahem.

INNIE COLLAR

Literally where do I even start. What is wrong with him. How could he do this to me. To us.

Imagine him ordering it custom somewhere and when it finally comes in he'd be so excited but so shy about showing it to you 😭😭

But oooooh when he does. Take some steps closer and trace over the letters with your finger, pressing down so he feels it pressing against his neck.

"What's this? My puppy got himself a collar?"

And he just looks with his big brown eyes and is so fucking adorable and grrrrrrrrr

"Yeah. Wanna show I belong to you."

SBFJFJDKDKSKXKFF 🤬🤬🤬🤬 I'M GONNA EAT ROCKS ISTFG

That is when you fuck him so hard that he can't move and will absolutely be feeling it in the morning. But he's not gonna be able to think about then when you're overstimulating him and making him cum for the 4th time in a row 🥰 I imagine it's around that time he'd start crying too. Pretty boy. I am deeply unwell, bye 🫡 -🦊

INNIE COLLAR‼️ im glad ur ask made it safe n sound bc those pics still haven’t left my mind…the way he made absolutely sure we paid attention to his collar w those extreme closeups on his neck…he’s a bit ill i think (sidenote the lil freckle on his adam’s apple that’s just begging to be kissed 😵‍💫 there’s nothing to be normal abt here)

the thought of him getting it custom made w his initials is so endearing please 😭 esp when you know innie has trouble wearing chokers bc his neck is so sensitive…sweet puppy is just that excited to be shown off as yours, he doesn’t even think twice abt it. his big brown gaze looks so innocent meanwhile he’s saying things to you that he knows will get him put through the mattress until he’s a sobbing mess, you can tell by the way his eyes gleam when you hook your fingers under the band of his collar and tug him along to the bedroom <3 he might be sore the next day but the dull pain and the marks all over his skin are just another reminder that he belongs to you~

[makuzume]

⚠️Content warning: implied SH⚠️

Genshin Men Walking in on their s/o doing SH and Comforting/Patching Them Up

Content: Implied that reader self harmed, no graphic descriptions, focused mostly on comfort from the character. (Terms mentioned: stains, scar, wound, blade)

Characters: Tighnari, Baizhu, Alhaitam, Cyno

[Note: Requested by @maraestar but I couldn't put the request box in]

Tighnari

He enters the room with a bit of a surprised, unexpected expression. It takes him a moment to process the scene he walked into.

Tighnari exhales softly, a small pout visible on his lips with his brows slightly furrowed out of concern, looking at his lover.

He began to ponder for a moment, thinking about the most appropriate approach to the situation at hand.

After a while, he relaxes, a little more calm now as he approached you, gently taking away the very thing that had harmed you from your hands.

He sat next to you without saying anything. He grabbed the tissues from his pocket to gently dab on the stains that were around your scars, his eyes observing them in silence. Despite this, the atmosphere wasn't tense at all, to your surpise.

Tighnari didn't want to make you feel any shame for being caught in the act, he made sure of it. He knew that there already must've been a lot on your mind right now, he wouldn't want to be another contributer to the negative emotions you're experiencing. He realized the best way to approach this is with gentle care.

As he finishes wrapping a few bandages around you, he looks at you softly, sighing.

"I know there must've been a lot on your mind again.

I'm sorry if I hadn't notice the signs that you've been feeling unwell. It's okay, I'm here now. You can talk to me.

You know, I'd rather you vent out your feelings to me than taking it out on yourself, so tell me next time, alright?."

Baizhu

Baizhu heads towards your room, hoping to share a funny story that he had just learned from one of his customers, completely unaware of the current situation you were going through that very moment.

He decided to go straight to your door, not even thinking about knocking before entering.

"Dear, you would not be able to guess what just happened. The merchant from yesterday told m-"

He immediately stopped in his tracks, his words suddenly getting caught in his throat as he scanned you, noticing your expression immediately.

A few tear stains fell from your cheeks with a shocked expression evident, perhaps because of his sudden entrance. Next, his gaze focused on where your hands had placed themselves- there, he saw a fresh wound, a wound which had been inflicted by none other than his own beloved.

Baizhu was honestly shocked as well, perhaps even more shocked than you, unexpecting to see you have such injuries.

He is a doctor afterall, a very good one, and he always treated many of his patients' injuries from accidents and attacks. He also often treated many of your minor injuries from small accidents too, but he had not expected to see the day where he would be treating your wound which had been inflicted intentionally by you.

He sighed, giving a concerned look through his worried eyes and small smile. "Good heavens.." Softly, he spoke, trying to remain firm in hopes to appear more reliable, like the strong and steady rock you needed to cry on right now- hiding the fact that he, himself, is immensely worried.

Baizhu attempted to hide these feelings behind his usual expression, behind that mysterious, delighted facade he often showed; it was harder for him to pretend that he wasn't sickly worried right now.

He exhaled deeply and sat next to you, observing the scars on your body. Baizhu attempted to appear calm by smiling but his eyes were furrowed, sad to see you go through such pain to have even taken it out on yourself.

Even if he's a doctor that treated wounds, he still wished that he could have somehow prevented yours from ever occuring. A small form of guilt formed within him, regret in a sense.

Baizhu softly, but worriedly, looks into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

"My sweet beloved, what's the matter? Have the thoughts clouded your mind again..?

Come now, let me treat your scars. I'll make you your favorite drink for you to calm down as well."

His tone was slightly uncertain and panicked, but just a little.

Once he finished patching up your wound, he softly places a hand on your cheek, seeming to have composed himself a little more.

"I'm not mad at you, my dear. I understand there must've been something bothering you. Tell me, won't you...?

Regardless on what it's about, you know I will always listen to your troubles.."

Alhaitam

He walks in, a bit of a shocked expression visible on his face. It honestly caught him off guard, and it was rare to see him with such reactions.

He said nothing, which worried you quite a bit on what Alhaitam thought about the situation he walked into- what he thought about you.

You hear him sigh deeply while his eyes were closed as he took a moment to think, perhaps a little frustrated at the situation.

Once he opened his eyes, he was more composed and walked towards you, his gaze fixated on yours.

Alhaitam crouched down to your level. He immediately, but gently, pushed your hands away from your body, disregarding to acknowledge the blade you held. To your surprise, he hugged you tightly, a strong sense of comfort suddenly overwhelming you. A hand gently, but firmly, was placed behind your head while the other embraced you, pulling you closer as he shared his own warmth with you. At this moment, his actions spoke louder than anything else.

It was quiet for some time but it never felt intimidating, the silence was rather comforting.

After being together with Alhaitam for some time, he would already have a good grasp in understanding you. So even if he never comforted anyone before, he knew what you needed. And right now, he knew that you needed to feel his presence.

He spoke seriously, with a hint of a gentle, and even irritated, tone to his words.

"If you want to tell me what's on your mind, just tell me, I'll listen.

But if not, that's fine too. We can stay like this for a little while longer."

Cyno

Cyno enters the room, intantly noticing the few stains of red on your body.

Instictively, his first reaction was assuming that you had been attacked, immediately turning into protective mode.

"What happened?? Who hurt you?? Where are you hurt???" He asked with a serious and urgent tone, firmly holding the weapon in his hand, ready to attack whoever even dared to have laid their hands on you.

Cyno eventually realized what really happened once he took a closer look at the scene. Your eyes fell to the floor, embarassed to meet with his gaze, but he was able to catch a glimpse of your puffy, red eyes and wet cheeks.

He notieced how you slowly hid your hand that had been holding the blade. With the silence you gave and these small details, Cyno was able to piece together the events that had just taken place and finally loosened the grip on his spear.

"Oh... so, it was..." His voice softened, concerned and careful was his tone, unable to think of a proper response.

You were silent, avoiding his gaze. He honsestly didn't know what to say or do, thus, he took a moment to collect ideas on how to handle this situation. Afterall, it was beating up bad guys and playing TCG that he was an expert on, not sensitive moments like this.

Regardless, he wanted to make sure he approached this the right way.

He slowly took off his head piece and carefully leaned his weapon against the wall, his eyes looking at the ground, also avoiding your gaze, but glancing at you every now and then as he was thinking of what to say.

Carefully, Cyno sat down next to you. It was quiet for a moment and you could feel his eyes watching you.

"... give it here. I'll clean the wound for you" His tone was serious, but at the same time, gentle. You look up at him to see him staring at you with his full attention. Eventually, you let him clean you up, and he did so, silently.

After he finished patching you up, he stared at the area of your scars for a moment before he, ever so gently, placed a very soft kiss above the bandages while his fingers lightly caress the area around it.

His eyes stared at your wound once more before looking up to face you. Cyno spoke in his deep, but gentle, voice "look at me..." was all he said. He patiently waited you to face him on your own time.

"I don't know what's been on your mind to do this, ...but I don't like seeing you get hurt because of it."

Cyno brought your hands close to his chest.

"Share me your burden, I am here for you. If comfort is what you need, I am always willing to give you just that. So please... (y/n), tell me what's wrong. I'm here to listen. You know that."

Check out my other works [My Masterlist]

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNWELL. ( claudio s. )

missin' claudio hours,, :") and been unwell for the past two days, so have written this out of boredom 💜

no warnings except for the possible grammatical errors + lovey nicknames + fluff so i hope you guys enjoy 💌 ‼

dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 💫

It has been a relatively slow day so far-- or the past few days, dare you say. As for right now, you're still laying on bed with no plans being mentally made like you usually do, especially with the house chores since you feel as if you got no energy to spare; and it's still like around morning. Not that early, that is.

You somehow despised times like this, very much unbothered with your current posture, to which your legs are practically dangling by the edge of the bed and your head is not even on the pillow.

These past few days also have been undeniably exhausting, to say the least. But today, the feeling has become more evident than usual.

Not too long after and while you're still stuck within your own thoughts, Claudio stepped into your shared bedroom after doing something earlier-- presumably having prepared breakfast for the two of you like he always did. He's the best cook between the both of you, and you knew that well.

Something felt quite off, and he couldn't tell himself as to why just yet. Maybe it's because you would usually done something by now, or merely something akin to it. He doesn't have the heart to wake you earlier, knowing how peacefully you slept beside him, and all cuddled up.

The Italian exorcist adjusts your figure by placing them properly on the bed, before his hand landed upon your forehead, just in case if his instincts are correct. His slate blue eyes widened ever so slightly at the unexpected heat radiating off from it after.

A frown slowly forms upon his lips, but more so in a concerned manner, and you didn't even pay that much attention-- seemingly assumed that it's nothing too serious.

"Amore, you're burning up right now. Are you feeling alright?" He inquired gently, whilst checking your body temperature on some necessary parts; now letting you rest your head against his chest.

"Huh? Oh, now that you mentioned it.." You chuckled rather weakly and a bit unintentionally, nuzzling your face into the provided warmth of his hand that's apparently there. "I do, in fact, feel a little weird today with myself. Perhaps that might be the case."

He secretly detested to see you in this state of sickness-- it worries him a lot even if it's just something minor.

The frown remains, yet one of his hands are still on your face, caressing your cheek so, so lovingly tender. Despite it all, you could tell that he's deeply concerned by your current condition, even if it's not that all bad to you.

"I didn't even realize that I truly have fallen ill. I'm sorry for worrying you, caro."

His expression would instantly soften upon your words; sighing a bit, and a small smile is present after.

"You don't need to apologize for being sick, amore mio. It's never your fault; it's human nature after all, it's always bound to happen sometime."

"Besides, as your husband, I will happily and gratefully take on my responsibilities to take care of you forever, if I may and if fate allows us."

You didn't dare to deny his words at all, for all of them held the mere truth of his pure devotion towards you. It's making you feel all mushy and warm inside, and the sensations he's naturally giving you is almost too surreal to experience firsthand-- he always did it so flawlessly.

"But love, what about your work..?" You questioned him out of pure worry that you might have distracted him from doing something far more important, especially with his daily jobs. The hint of guilt is evident within your simple statement, and it saddens him deeply to hear you speak such words over your well-being.

But none of it mattered at this moment-- and he's sure of it. You are his top priority as his beloved wife; someone who's very much important to him. One that he cares and cherishes so much, more so than himself.

"Cuore mio, my works can always wait." He moves several strands of hair away from your face; his usual affectionate grin is present. "And I'm not going anywhere until you're fully healed and all better."

Any attempts of arguing with him would be very much futile, considering your current state of condition at this point. But eventually, your smile mirrors his own lovingly and understandingly, clearly appreciating his efforts.

Upon noticing the expression that you're giving him; Claudio couldn't help but to let a small endearing chuckle out of his lips, along with a forehead kiss being given out to you.

"Just stay here for a bit. I'll bring in some breakfast here that I've prepared earlier, so we can eat it together."

"Don't worry about the possible mess, or anything at all. I'll take care of everything, I promise you, tesoro mio."

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[spriteofmushrooms]

Chengxian, 17

From this ask meme.

17. things you said that I wish you hadn't

When Wei Wuxian enters the dream, he sees Jiang Cheng immediately. He's seated at a table and fussily arranging dishes. He looks wan. Still, his expression is so open like this; Wei Wuxian can read every thought that crosses his face. His anxious little shidi was so cute.

Next to Jiang Cheng sits a dream of Wei Wuxian. It's his original body, which makes sense. Wei Wuxian rubs his chest as the dream of Wei Wuxian pokes Jiang Cheng. 

"Shidi, we're going to eat the food anyway. Why does it matter if one thing is next to another?"

Jiang Cheng slaps the hand away. "You know a-jie worries about us running a household by ourselves. We have to show her we know how to host."

His dream self laughs. "She likes fussing, so why shouldn't we give her more opportunities?" But he still stands and scrutinizes the arrangement, then declares, "This composition is deeply pleasing. Not only do the colors complement the spatial relationship between all of the elements, but on the whole it presents a harmonious spirit. However, there is one flaw."

Jiang Cheng is looking up at the dream with wide eyes. "What is it?"

The dream plucks a dumpling and pops it into his mouth. "Rogue dumpling."

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and turns away, then smiles.

From Wei Wuxian's left, a voice says, "I know it's a dream. You don't have to save me."

Wei Wuxian turns to see the far more splendid version of his shidi that feels so foreign. This Jiang Cheng is sharp, luminescent, and closed. Wei Wuxian's gaze flicks between the two versions. With the original to compare the dream with, the dream is more obviously unwell.

"What's wrong with him?" Wei Wuxian asks.

Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow. "Nothing. Tell Jin Ling I'll be out soon."

"Do you know how long you've been unconscious?"

"I thought around three shichen, but that seems like too little time for you to be here," Jiang Cheng says, gaze on the tableau.

"Almost two days," Wei Wuxian snaps.

"Shut up," Jiang Cheng says, flicking his robes into ever more perfect alignment. "A-jie is coming."

"Your yang energy is being drained even now. Do you want me to tell your nephew that seeing shijie is more important than seeing him?"

At the table, dream Wei Wuxian says, "A-Cheng, if you don't stop, I'll tell shijie you don't sleep enough."

"Whose fault is that?" dream Jiang Cheng sulks.

Wei Wuxian turns his head in time to see a flash of silver and violet as his dream self cups Jiang Cheng's face, but then his view is obscured by the real Jiang Cheng.

"Get out," Jiang Cheng hisses.

"Gege, not here," dream Jiang Cheng demures.

"I'm wearing Zidian," Wei Wuxian says.

"Then how about here?" his dream self says.

"Why am I wearing Zidian, Jiang Cheng?"

But he never gets an answer; Jiang Cheng pushes him out of the dream and wakes up.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 5

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You didn't want to speak to anyone the next morning after the dinner. You didn't want to see anyone. You were annoyed and slightly embarrassed with how you behaved last night.

You decided you'd stay in your room for the entire day. Cece had tried to get you to come out and play with her but you expressed that you weren't feeling well. Did you feel bad for lying to your cousin? Yes, but you really just needed to wallow in your room by yourself.

________________

"Lady Clara is here to see you, Miss." Jane announces as she peeks her head into your room.

You sigh, "Did you tell her that I'm feeling unwell?"

"Yes and she's very insistent that she sees you."

You groan as you sit up in your bed, "You may send her up, I guess."

Minutes go by and the door opens. Clara walks in, "Good day, Y/N."

You give a stiff nod, "Clara."

She clears her throat, "I came by to apologize. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable last night. It was never my intention. My brother has always told me how stubborn I can be. I just-I love him so much. He deserves to be happy. However, I understand that while you and my brother are amicable that doesn't mean you are to be with each other. I apologize greatly for practically forcing you to be together. I am ashamed to say that I'm no better than the rest of society," her head hands low in shame.

"I accept your apology, Clara. Thank you. I admire your love and concern for your brother. He's...a good man. He does deserve love in his life. I'm-I'm just not sure that's me."

Clara nods in understanding, "Yes, well, I'll leave you to rest. I hope you feel better soon," she gives a bow and sees herself out.

As soon as the door closes, you groan and fall back against your pillows.

______________

Roy watches as Cece and Phoebe run around the garden. He's glad that his niece found a friend after moving here. Things haven't been easy for the young girl, and Roy's always done his best to make sure she lives a loving and happy life.

He hears his sister before he sees her. She's walking down the path that leads to where he's sitting, a bench underneath a tree on the property.

"Where did you go off to?" he asks, eyes still on the young girls playing.

"I went to apologize to Y/N," Roy grunts and Clara continues, "I won't meddle anymore. I'm sorry that I've made things uncomfortable for you both."

He nods to his sister, "Thank you. She-She already feels so much pressure on her from her mother, society, she doesn't need more."

"I know, but, Roy...please be honest with me, do you care for her?"

Roy's jaw clenches and he looks away from Clara. He sighs, "I do, but, again, it's complicated. She's so...aggravating, smart mouthed, opinionated. But she's also sweet, she cares deeply for her friends and family. I can't help but be drawn to her."

Clara softly smiles at her brother, she places a hand on his shoulder, "I know I said I won't meddle, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to win her affections. I do think there may be something promising between you two and I don't mean in a business transaction way."

"Clara?"

"Hm?"

"Did you love Andrew?" Clara sits and thinks about her husband, who's passed, "I wouldn't say love, but I cared for him as a friend. He was definitely the best out of the other men that have asked to court me. He was kind, understanding. He's also the reason I have Phoebe. I may not have loved him in a romantic way, but I do hold him dear."

"Do you think you could've fallen in love with him over time?"

She shrugs, "Maybe."

Clara and Roy both look on to Cece and Phoebe who are rolling in the grass. Their laughter echoing throughout the property.

_____________________________

In the late afternoon, you eventually grew tired of your self-isolation. So you called upon Keeley and Jamie to join you for tea.

In the sitting room, the three of you are lounging, sipping from your cups.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," Keeley states as she takes a bite from a biscuit.

"It's been a few days, Keels," Jamie says with a snort.

She waves him off, "Too long. Tell me, what have you been up to?"

You sigh, setting your cup down, "My family and I had dinner with the Kents last night."

"Oh! I heard about that!" you look at her with a cocked brow, "Your mother told mine. Honestly, I'm a little upset you didn't tell me!"

"How was it? Was Lord Grumps his usual grumpy self?" Jamie asks with a smirk.

"We hardly interacted. He seemed quite miserable actually. Then his niece asked when Roy and I would get married." Keeley and Jamie give you a questioning look and you respond, "Because we played princess and dragons with them. They were the dragons, I was the princess, and Roy was the knight who saved me. The princess and the knight always get married in the stories they've read. Anyway, I told her that what we did was make believe and she got upset. She ran upstairs. Roy followed. Clara and my father made a comment that Roy and I should be together and I-I just got so annoyed and upset. I left the dinner."

"Y/N, why are you so against you and Lord Kent being together?" Jamie asks, genuinely.

"I-He-We're just so different. He's so uptight and grumpy all the time! He's probably only smiled five times in his life! Besides, Jamie, isn't he always rude to you?"

"He's rude to everyone, ain't he?" Jamie responds with a shrug.

You point to him, "That's another thing. He's rude!"

Keeley's interjects, "I think that's just him trying to protect himself from anyone getting too close and potentially hurting him." You and Jamie look at her confused, "What? It makes sense! I heard he was previously engaged to this woman name Georgina Afton. They were super in love, at least it seemed that way. Then Georgina caught the eye of a duke and she broke off the engagement. People say Roy was completely heartbroken."

"So...he's just scared of getting hurt?" you ask in clarification.

"Probably."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense," Jamie says, "Wow, love. You never seize to amaze me," he says looking at Keeley like she hung up all the stars in the sky.

"Aw, thanks, love!" she leans in and pecks his lips.

The sight makes you smile. You always hoped to find a love like theirs. It was rocky at first, but Keeley and Jamie...they just make sense to you. They fit each other well and you dream of finding someone who fits you.

Is that someone Roy Kent? You're still not sure.

He frustrates you and makes you doubt yourself sometimes, but he also challenges you. He's caring and adores his family. He's quick witted and snarky, but also funny.

Hmmm...you really had to think about this.

Besides, there were other men that could potentially catch your eye. Maybe...maybe you should start taking finding a suitor more seriously...

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Hello my maggots (especially the tumblr maggots whom I haven't seen on Discord recently), I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I haven't been posting the past few days.

It appears I used up all my XP in being a Funny Little Guy and left none for health (I'm not a gamer. I don't know why I tried that joke. The most experience I have with XP is learning Italian on Duolingo).

And I'll probably be taking a break for a few days more. Why?

Well, no, unfortunately, not love.

It's that stupid motherfucker, Tommy the Haematoma of my ankle.

But Asmi, you ask, didn't you fall down the stairs more than a month ago?

Why yes, yes I did. And out of that, two weeks were spent in bedrest/floorrest/whatever you call not being allowed to walk at all.

But thanks to the wonders of our Lord and Saviour Bildaddy, I am now resigned to two more weeks of bedrest.

WELL FUCK YOU TOO, BILDADDY. TO THINK I USED TO HAVE FAITH IN YOU.

But yes. A bloody fracture would have healed sooner than this. But no no no not Tommy and his buddies called weakened and swollen ligaments and heightened nerve sensation (not as catchy as Tommy, are they?) who are here to overstay their welcome like a couple of Indian aunties dropping in during festival time to gossip.

Now, I'm not someone who exercises, okay. Au contraire. I'm more sedentary than the coins that Crowley superglues to pavements.

But I did like being able to at least walk around my room to pick up my art supplies. Or go to the kitchen for a snack without maneuvering a cane (Kaz Brekker era coming up for realsies) (but less sexy and more legless chicken style). I also now can't really go outside unless I'm staying in the car. The car hurts, too. So I have only attempted that once. All hail.

So that is how I have come to be resigned to spending two more weeks (after already spending two) in bedrest and pain during the month before my birthday in the year 2024 of our Lord and Saviour Bastard and Damner Bildaddy.

It does tend to lower morale a bit. And I'm kind of active on the Discord server (I need to be, because otherwise my social interaction comes to a grand net total of 0) (just like the number of times Crowley and Aziraphale talked after Season 2) (ahaha sorry).

But being on Tumblr I feel like I should be making posts and I start getting stressy about notes even though I know I shouldn't. And thus my absence the past few days, and probably for a few days more.

C'est la vie. So it is farewell for now (I say dramatically about a few days break).

But don't worry my maggoty loves, I shall return with chaos. As usual. And I'll still be on Discord unless the pain gets really bad. I love love love love love you so much.

At the end of 2023 I wished so bad that I wouldn't be alone anymore and now I'm not. And so neither are any of you. Like that meme said, we're not a fandom, we're a deeply unwell family. Applies both to the Good Omens fandom and to my own. My fans are rather more incestuous, but that's part of our, er, charm.

Sending you all the hugs and forehead kisses and love that you're okay with. I'll see you soon.

Meanwhile, I want you to promise to cause chaos on my behalf. Keep the Good Omens tag trending. Make cursed headcanons. Try not to murder anyone. Byebye, my little maggoty fly larvae.

[wajjs]

I think the funniest things that could happen if Hal fucked Kyle and Wally are the ensuing mental breakdowns.

Wally is developing catholic guilt in a non-catholic way about it and it doesn’t stop him per se, but it drives him nuts.

I could see Kyle using Roy as like a way to confess because there’s no way he’s telling any sane person, but he also can’t tell Guy because that’d be a whole thing. I feel like Roy would be the type of friend to get dragged into this type of shit all the time.

Hal would not spend a second dwelling on any of this. He would not unpack or try to process anything about it until months after. He is deeply unwell and about to get drunk and burst and about to unload it all on some poor random bartender.

Wally is going crazy. Which is not a rare thing, but it is a thing nonetheless, and it is happening to him, to Wally, which in turn affects Kyle, and Kyle does not like that. He does not like that one bit.

Wally is going crazy. He's vibrating through the walls faster than he can eat to replenish his energy. Well. Almost faster. Even in the midst of a crisis Wally doesn't forget to keep up with his needed calory intake.

Kyle drums his trimmed fingernails over his phone screen, waiting for Roy to answer to his text. Of course Roy takes three to seven business day to reply. Of course. Typical Roy, to always be busy with his own things to get back to them when they are having a crisis the size and shape of one Hal Jordan who casually sneaked out the window when no one was looking.

"It's just," Wally starts with the exact same phrase he's used to start his previous ten sentences. "He's my uncle!"

Kyle's right eyebrow twitches. "So?"

"I fucked my uncle!"

"He's not really—" his phone buzzes. Kyle lifts his index finger, ordering Wally to wait, which of course makes Wally irate, because as Kyle checks the notification to see it's spam, Wally is also snatching Kyle's phone and throwing it on the messy covers all bundled up at the end of the bed. "Hey!"

"I fucked my uncle, Kyle!" Wally screams at him, and it is also when Kyle realizes it's kind of funny that they're still naked with Hal's jizz cooling up their asses. "I fucked a guy!"

"Well, that's an improvement from uncle." Kyle leans back until he's back to laying down on the bed. "So you fucked a dude. What's the big deal? We fuck all the time."

Turning around, Wally starts the process of looking for his clothes. "You don't count."

"I don't count," Kyle nods first, thinks the words through after. "HEY. What do you mean, I don't count?!"

"You're just some idiot!" He's got his pants on and his underwear in his hands. Kyle glares at him, sitting back up again, and throws a drooled on pillow at his face. "Hal is! Hal is... he's Hal."

Kyle huffs, rolling his eyes as he does. "Big deal. He left us without even a wet towel to clean ourselves with. I'm still here, aren't I?"

"You were just texting Roy. I saw."

"Yeah, but I'm here. Hal isn't."

"I wouldn't stay here with you either."

That's it. Kyle jumps at Wally, hands aimed at his throat, and they both fall to the ground with one loud and painful thump!

[pillowspace]

Hello! I know i'm a bit late now but i just caught up on Celestial Sundown and I love your writing! I was looking through the tag and saw the ask you answered about probably not continuing it but willing to answer questions. If you still plan on not finishing it could you share what you had planned for it? Specifically i'm curious about what eclipse was going to do (or at least what they planned on doing) with y/n in the next chapter, but if you feel like sharing what you had planned for the rest of the story I would love to hear that too!

Weather you answer this or not i hope you have a great day/night!

It's a bit hard to gather all the memories considering I lost my file with my plans in it when I switched phones (eh idc, it was all messy anyway), but let me think ummm!

Eclipse was going to drag Y/N off... they'd carry them towards Sun's general direction because Y/N's struggling to walk, but then eventually Eclipse would also start struggling to walk as they would get all goopy and just generally Unwell. So Eclipse would sit Y/N down somewhere by the trees and they'd talk. Ah-! Notably, I believe there wassss... a scene where Y/N asks if Eclipse is talking about "Sun," though by just simply asking "Sun?". Because Sunna (Eclipse's sun half) also technically went by the name Sun, Eclipse would sort of freeze up and Stare, before Y/N elaborates on what they're asking and Eclipse gets a little bitter to learn that the god of Day would go by the name "Sun" of all names. It feels a tad bit disrespectful, even if the children are the ones who nicknamed them that.

After a bit of tense conversation, they'd move on to walking again, and I think Sun was meant to find them. Things don't really work out for Eclipse due to the fact that Eclipse is currently more injured than Sun is, so in a last ditch effort, Eclipse brings Y/N to the Celestial Realm, which of course freaks Y/N out the second they realize what's happening. It wouldn't be exploratory though, only brief, as they would end up appearing in a dark room within the castle Eclipse resides in. Something about the air would feel different though, wrong. Eclipse would leave Y/N there to go recover or get something for them, whichever it was. Thennn... Vanny/Vanessa/whatever would have appeared, telling Y/N that they're not supposed to be here yet, they'd talk a tiny bit, and then she would send Y/N back home? Sorry, I don't remember much of the specifics of that conversation?? Upon appearing back home, Y/N would then feel nauseous and somehow deeply Wrong, like briefly being outside of their own realm then returning suddenly made them realize just how much it feels like the air is outright rejecting them. But that the Celestial Realm also didn't feel much better either. Y/N doesn't have much time to think about it before Sun is there at their side. From there, Sun would work on treating them for the next few days, in a bit of a mirror to how Y/N had treated Sun at one point. I... cannot recall if Y/N also grew sick or if it was just the injuries.

Oh! Right! During the conversation with Eclipse, I believe Eclipse mentioned the fact that um... gosh, I don't know, um um um. Either that they had intended to kill Sun, that Sun was injured enough that he would have died had Y/N not meddled with it, or that Eclipse would have returned after having woken up to deal a killing blow if again Y/N hadn't treated him. SOMETHING along the lines of "Sun would be dead if it weren't for you." Y/N would eventually bring this up to Sun after mostly recovering, and it would sort of unintentionally burst any wiggle room Sun had in physically being able to pretend that he had a normal debt and not a life debt. I've mentioned this once, but there's a very big difference between a debt and a life debt. If you have a life debt, the person involved sort of... Owns you. They can demand anything of you, and you wouldn't be able to refuse. A life debt is also extremely hard to get rid of. It's seen in Celestial Realm's cultures that having a life debt with a human is very bad and leads to gods being forced into their lowliest position, like a pet on a leash that can be demanded to do anything practically. Sun panics the moment they lose their little shield of "well I COULD have lived without you...!" Even if the two of them want to trust each other, they don't trust each other ENOUGH for a life debt to not cause Sun fear. Upon realizing why Sun is suddenly so freaked out, Y/N quickly reshapes their speech habits to not have any commanding language. Over the next little while, Y/N would build trust up with Sun again and assure him again and again that they would never demand anything of him, and that this life debt hasn't changed anything for them. They didn't want anything before, and they don't want anything now. No matter how easy it would be.

That's less just NEXT chapter, and more what the next few chapters would've probably been. Of course, there was way more plans for the general storyline, but I... I wouldn't really know where to begin with all that without a specific question, and this answer's gotten long enough already.

You have a great day/night too!!!

[wakasagayhime]

ok i know i was silly yesterday when i talked about abyssalposting but im serious this time. i am currently experiencing earth-shattering amounts of abyssal brainrot (mostly skaspec brainrot let's be honest here) and i have not been able to get them out of my head for a few days in a row now but twitter is too scary to be cringe on and tumblr is where everyone can be as cringe as they want. i need to spew a few gallons of this sewage out of my body. i am so sorry to everyone who follows me who doesn't know what the fuck i'm talking about.

anyway skadi's fucked up heartbreaking plotline/ending in caerula arbor is tearing me apart but also making me think deeply about what might happen in the canon universe. the fact that ishar-mla can allow skadi to return to normal after taking control of her is great! it's not so great if the abyssal hunters are all dead and skadi is destroyed by guilt. but i'm a little optimistic now that in the event that ishar-mla does corrupt skadi in the canon timeline, as long as the abyssal hunters manage to survive and the overall damage isn't that bad, skadi will probably be ok. of course, the ideal is that skadi just doesnt have to go through all of that, but who even knows at this point i just watched all my blorbos get put through the torture machine and idk if they're allowed to be happy yet

also those of you who follow me on twitter may be familiar with my tweets about skadi's storyline being a trans allegory. that is still 100% true to me. HOWEVER. i would say it mostly pertains to the threat of being overcome by a horrifying monster whose name she does not want to be associated with. the fact that ishar-mla is gendered as more masculine does play into that at times, but then the issue is if skadi becomes ishar-mla there is no way in hell i'm still referring to ishar-mla as skadi as a he/him. i'm sorry. if he wants to live in the body of a bad bitch he's going to have to live with the new she/her pronouns.

i have many thoughts in my head that are just bouncing around like fish out of water but these are the two most (relatively) coherent and least (relatively) cringe. thank you for your time. i am unwell.

[strawhatsoraya]

hi sunshine! how are you? hope everything’s good and you’re doing fine! sorry if I might sound too cheesy but I absolutely adore the way you write, everything you post I eat it up immediately and the fact that you do this for free? you’re a gift, so I was wondering if you’d like to write this scenario (exclusively if you’re comfortable and interested in doing so) it’s NSFW for shanks with a F!reader (there is just something about him that is so damn attractive) and it’s about her being maybe part of the crew or another pirate (your choice), we know his crew and him are not particularly interested in treasures and money, and I would think the one they have are obtained similarly to what the strawhats do and not by raiding cities, and I would imagine shanks to not be interested in jewelry so he lets his crew take what they want for themselves with the only exception that he always calls dibs on the most gorgeous necklace he can find, the crew knows this and it’s cause he absolutely LOVES to adorn her simply cause he adores her and gift giving is one of his love languages, what they don’t know it’s that what he loves even more is fucking her while she’s wearing nothing but that necklace. that’s it, oh bonus point if you make him like madly, deeply viscerally in love cause I think that man would be the kindest of partners.

Have a wonderful day and do not feel pressured to write this if you simply don’t enjoy it <3

I'm not even going to attempt an apology because there is no apology that could justify me letting this be in my inbox for 7 months. LMAO. I simply just have not been writing as much as I was. I'm hoping to correct that. Please know that it wasn't that I didn't like this idea. I was and am obsessed with it. I'm just mentally unwell~~ lmao.

ANYWAY. HERE IT IS. idk if you're still on tumblr, or long gone, but either way I had fun writing this. Thank you for sending this great idea months and months ago.

SHANKS X FEM READER / NSFW word count: 6.5k (i know i know, but what can I say, it's shanks) content warnings: nudity (duh lol), vaginal penetration, biting, scratching, there's some shower shenanigans, unprotected sex (they are pirates and live dangerously), pretty straightforward, have at it. A SUMMARY: nope.

The truth was, he should have let you go a long time ago. Let you fall to the bottom of the ocean along with all the ships he had sunk, with all the drowned men he had no sympathy for. He should let you go, but you are like the ghost of his arm. On hot humid nights, he wakes up with an itch on a forearm he can’t scratch so he tosses in bed, dreams of you–of the hand he can’t touch you with.

Shanks never cared about treasure, not even in his early youth. He was happier watching his men divvy the spoils among themselves. He’d take their laughter as reward, watch the joy in their faces and know that he had conquered more than just another pirate, more than just another adventure. He had conquered life itself. 

Yet, he thought derisively, he could not conquer you.

But he knew what swayed you. He knew the light in your eyes that’d shine like beacons at the sight of jewels. How broadly you smiled while counting gold coins. He adored that undeniable air of superiority that’d keep your shoulders high when he’d slip ornate gaudy rings over each of your long tapered fingers. Shanks loved the sight of your delicate neck draped in gold chains, although he thought nothing beat the sight of his own fingers wrapped around it.

He hid his obsessions behind his smile. Some that he wasn’t proud of, but then, there was you, sitting on the edge of your bed, smooth legs crossed neatly over each other; his pride hanging by a thread on the curve of your cheek.

Not that he’d ever tell you.

The din outside the bedroom is loud, as it’s bound to be. Two pirate crews getting together, one being mostly composed of men while the other women, was surely to have interesting results. You ignore the shouting, and the cussing, the laughter and the start of badly played music accompanied by badly sung party songs. After all, it wasn’t often you were honored by Shank’s presence. You needed to make sure to take it all in.

Your dark eyes size him up, from the top of his flaming red hair, to the bottom of his feet–sandal clad and characteristic of his blase persona. His size alone was enough to intimidate most but you had him moaning in your ear too many times to count to let the broadness of his shoulders deter you. 

“Fancy seeing you in these waters,” you find the words to speak. They are heavy on your tongue, and sound annoyingly childish to your ears. You hide the urge to grimace by widening your smile. Shanks had the power to make you feel like a schoolgirl; unsure, and giggly and absolutely stir crazy about him. You shake your leg repeatedly, as you toss your hair over your shoulder, your curls suddenly feel suffocating around your heated neck. 

“Did you miss me so much you had to go out of your way?” Your voice is strained and high pitched. You hate it. You want to claw your throat out, but he smiles at you knowingly–as if he could read every stupid thought in your head and suddenly, you want to claw his face out instead. “You shouldn’t have.”

You try to sound light and airy, teasing–maybe even condescending, but your voice is still off. It brings heat to your face. You try to hide your embarrassment by laughing, and turning your head. You cover the lower half of your mouth, and glare at the nearest clothing rack. On it are the latest additions to your wardrobe, expensive silks and slinky low cut attire; everything you could think of that he’d like and never seen on you.

“Is it so hard to believe?” he asks you, his tone friendly and warm. You swallow thickly, unspoken confessions sticking dangerously to the walls of your throat. You think you’re choking. You think you’ll die then, and he stabs the wooden stake right through your heart when he speaks next: “We’re friends after all. Of course I’d miss you.”

That word bleeds into you. It spreads like ice, like venom throughout your being. Friends, because that was the only option among pirates. Friends, because the other choice was enemies–and could two enemies ever fuck like you and him? You suck your teeth and cross and uncross your legs. You adjust your seated position on the bed, while the crowd outside your bedroom continues to get louder. Although you’re avoiding his gaze, you feel it skim over your skin. You feel fire over the slope of your exposed shoulders, feel it over the swell of your breasts. 

Friends did not look at each other the way he did. 

“Well,” you interrupt his thoughts. Shanks blinks as he watches you uncross your legs again. He is mesmerized by the size of your plush thighs. His fingers twitch as he reigns in the impulse to reach out, to grasp one of them tightly. You stand up abruptly. “You have shitty timing, as usual.”

Shanks blinks, before he laughs with a soft shake of his head. “Really?” he asks and points his thumb behind him at the door. “With the party going outside I thought this was as good a time as ever.” 

He approaches you, and you immediately stiffen. Shanks tries not to laugh. In place, he snorts quietly through his nose. His hand reaches for one of your hips. His strong fingers dig into flesh as he brings you flush against him. 

“Come on, Doll,” he murmurs against your cheek. His breath is scalding against your brown skin. It’s like being kissed by the sun. You smell sake in his breath, almost taste the sweetness of it. “I sailed a long way to see you. Don’t you think our reunion should be a little sweeter?”

The slap against his chest is enough to stagger him backwards. You slip out of his space, trying to find your dignity along with your breath. Inside your chest, your heart runs at a neck-breaking pace. 

“Estúpido,” you hiss at him, hands immediately going to your heated cheeks. “I’m not candy. You expect too much,” you tell him, turning your face to raise a brow. You try to read his expression over your shoulder. His hand slips into the pocket of his trousers. “Especially when you come back empty handed.”

“You think so lowly of me,” he complains although he smiles. His hand rummages in his pockets. You hear the clinking of a metal, and your body turns around completely before you can help it. “When have I ever come back empty handed?” As his last words reach you, he pulls out a gold necklace from his pocket. You immediately count eight amethysts beads in various sizes. Wrapped around the necklace is a fine woven chain with gold spears that dangle from the base. 

You approach him, and reach gently with one hand. As you hold a golden spear on your fingers you see the sconce light of your bedroom catch on the tiny little diamonds embedded within. Shanks grins down at you. He sees that light in your eyes and feels a fire in his belly. It breathes life into him. 

“You should have started with that,” you quip, your plush lips pursed together. He is sorely tempted to grab your face and kiss you. He almost puts up a fight. His hand grips your cheeks together, and he lands a noisy peck on your mouth. You resist, so he comes back for seconds and thirds. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs as you slip away from his grasp, taking the necklace with you. You make a big show of wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Oh, see?” he gestures at you, with his brows scrunched up together. “Now you’re just trying to hurt me.”

“You’re a brute,” you snap, tossing your head again, finding your frizzed out curls currently insufferable. It was hair wash day, and Shanks was getting in the way. “Have you even showered?”

At the interrogation, Shank’s gaze shifts from your face to your body. It lingers momentarily on your breasts, before he drags them slowly back up, leaving you breathless. You hiccup. 

“I–” you start, and your bottom lip quivers. Heat pushes you down to the ground, tethering you to the fire in Shanks’ eyes–one that is threatening to quickly consume you. “I was going to shower when you got here. That’s what I meant–”

Shanks steals your thoughts, and your common sense. He invades your space, his hand easily finding the comfort of the small of your back. He rests it there on the top of your ample backside. Sneakily, or at least he thinks so, he squeezes the top of one ass cheek. 

“Is this your way of asking me for help?” He leans forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me help you. I’m very good at it.” You think, it should humble you, the way he’s lowered himself enough to reach your height. You think, surely, this should be enough, mean enough. That you should not crave what he cannot give; false forevers and promises written in fool’s gold. 

But you’d be a shit pirate if you didn’t dream at least every now and then.

You turn away wordlessly, and he follows quietly behind you. Inside the bathroom, he shadows your movements, his hand placed lightly over yours as you remove your clothing, and you drop the necklace over the pile of clothes. There’s a feral hunger lurking inside you, wanting you to tear his clothes off but you push past it and into the shower. You can’t see him, but you feel him grinning behind you, feel his predatory gaze sizing up your naked body. You close your eyes under the warm water coming out of the shower head, letting it soak your hair and body while you hear Shank’s clothing drop to the floor behind you.

Cleansing your body becomes a complicated task when Shanks is involved. He swears he’s helping as he slips a soapy hand between your legs. You bite your lip as his callouses brush against the sensitive skin of one inner thigh. 

“I have two hands,” you hiss as you swat his hand away. You hear a sharp inhale behind you, and his breathy laughter hot against the back of your neck. 

“All you do is try to hurt me,” he murmurs dramatically. His mouth grazes against your skin, the prickle of his facial hair against the sensitive spot behind one ear is enough to elicit goosebumps all over your body. “Are you showing off that you have two and I only have one?”

You stammer despite yourself. If you could take it all back you could. You hope the steam rising in the shower is enough to hide the color blooming on your cheeks. You turn around and fall into his embrace. Water ripples down the grooves of his chest muscles. They skimper along every ridge of his abdomen. Your hands slither smoothly over them, taking in every inch, and memorizing them until you could see it clearly behind your eyelids. 

“No,” you admit at last. Your hands are on his neck, as you pull him down gently towards your face. “I know you do enough damage with one hand as it is.”

You press your lips against his hoping this would be enough to shut him up. His hand feels like fire on your lower back. He brings you closer to him, pressing you against his pelvis. You feel his cock stir and grow harder against the softness of your lower belly. If there is any doubt left in you, Shanks takes care of it by slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is feverish, and messy. A slippery sense that is only heightened by the hot water sliding down your face and his. You bury your fingers in his flame colored hair, pulling him even closer against you.

Kissing you like this was clouding his senses. Being a captain of his own crew, placed him in the position of making most of the decisions. Something about the way you touched him, kissed him, looked at him–always made him want to relinquish control.  Still, he preferred to have you in bed, where he could have you at his mercy. Your mouth was hot against his neck, as you lowered your hands over his body. Shanks bites down on his lower lip, as your fingers wrap themselves around the girth of his cock. 

His hand shoots out to grab a handful of your wet curls. 

“Now who’s the one doing damage?” he asks in a whispered growl. 

You look up as he tugs on your hair, and almost wish you hadn't. His swollen lips, the ones you had passionately kissed as if you’d never get to taste him again, made him look disheveled and broken. That paired with the clouded look in his eyes, the heaviness on his eyelids, the slight flush on his cheeks was making your heart ache.

You press your lips together tightly, seeking control.

Your stroke is treacherously slow. You squeeze tightly, enjoying the feel of his thickness inside your hands. His lashes flutter close, and you watch him tilt his face up, watch the water drops slide down the expanse of his thick neck. You continue to stroke the thickness of his shaft, every now and then twisting your hand around the tip of his flushed cock just to hear his breathing hitch–to pretend you have some semblance of control. 

“Feels so good,” a mumbled confession tumbles off his lips. You feel it swim around your head, blurring your vision. It slithers around you, touches you where no man has touched you before. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

The heat between your legs becomes increasingly hard to ignore. You feel your heart pulsing at the center of you, as an undeniable wetness covers your folds. You reach out with one hand to cup his balls gently. When he murmurs your name, lips parted in silent ecstasy, you know you have to walk away first. 

You remove your hands, but not before dropping a kiss on the middle of his hard and muscular chest. 

“Wait–” he protests, trying to catch you. His large hand touches your cheek but you still turn away.

Water drips to the floor as you leave the shower. You ignore the towels nearby. Instead, you bend over well aware that Shanks was watching your every move. He watches the roundness of your ass intently as you bend over, and he gets a peek of that luscious center of you–that pussy he just can’t get enough of. When you stand up, the necklace is dangling from your slender fingers. He moves towards you, water dripping from his hair and his body to the floor. He reaches out for the necklace but you move quickly away from him.

“You’re being so difficult today,” he observes with amusement. “Not that you’ve ever been easy.”

He has to admit, you were very skilled at putting on jewelry all on your own. Still, he wished he had the privilege this time. Shanks would just have to get his reward in another form. Your naked silhouette walking away from him was surely close to divinity, in his opinion. The way your hips swayed with each step towards the bed was making him dizzy. He watches you even as you climb on the bed, slowly, naked ass in the air drawing him closer. 

He gives in to temptation. As he is prone to do with your companionship. When you turn around, dropping on the bed on your back, you inhale sharply at the look in his eyes; two burning fires determined to consume you.

Shanks moves with purpose. You had always admired the way he’d move so quickly in such a large body, barely making a sound before he would strike. There’s a sense of urgency that touches you gingerly at the base of your neck. Once again, you feel goosebumps scatter across your body.

“I think I’m very easy to deal with, actually,” you counter belatedly. “The picture of angelic behavior. How dare you.” He was making you nervous as he just waited there–kneeling at the edge of the bed. You tried to regulate your breathing as you laid your head on the ample amount of pillows you insisted on having on your bed. Shanks taught it a nuisance so you continued. You’d do anything to get under his skin–and stay there.

Shanks laughs at you as he starts to move. He slithers towards you like a large predatory feline, dark eyes and flaming mane of hair. The muscles of his shoulders ripple with his movements, and you feel your mouth water at the sight. You lick your lips, and swallow loudly. He must have heard you, you think with embarrassment, as a smirk stretches his lips.

“I dare,” he drawls, dragging out his syllables. He slides next to you, sliding his hand over the softness of your belly. “Because I’m the only one who would. You should be grateful,” he continues. You bite down on your lip, careful not to make a sound but your body is a traitor and shivers under the roughness of his hand. “That I’m such a devoted friend.”

There was that damn word again. There is a lump in your throat, bitter, and difficult to swallow. It almost chokes you to death as you push it down.

“Go to hell, Shanks. I don’t need friends like you.”

His laughter wounds you more than it should. You should expect this behavior from him. It was always the same. You parried his honeyed words with sharp remarks. A frail attempt at defending yourself and pretending you had no feelings for this Emperor of the Sea. He acted as if nothing you could say could hurt him, stop him, change his mind.

“Is that right?” he murmurs, his hand drawing slow large circles over your belly. Your legs move on their own. Your brows draw together as they slide apart, knees bending as you wiggle on the silk of your bedsheets. 

“Mmhmm,” you reply. Your response is weak, you know, but your breathing was becoming more ragged the more he touched you. Your heart speeds up when he leans over to drag his mouth against the skin under your belly. You grit your teeth when he bites that same space of flesh gently. “That’s right. I don’t need you, Red-Haired Shanks,” you hiss through clenched teeth. Your hand is in his hair, fingers tangling in crimson locks. “I don’t–” You gasp, thoughts interrupted as Shanks journey moves lower to your pelvis. He kisses one hip, and then the other.

“You were saying?” he asks, a low chuckle dying on the crook of your inner thigh. You close your eyes tightly as the feeling of his hot tongue dips closer towards the center of you. 

He pulls away, grabbing your wrist to untangle your fingers from his hair, as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed. This position makes you feel vulnerable–naked and laying on your back, as he sits up, looking down on you with your wrist still in his hand, both his feet on the floor; grounded.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop floating up in the sky. The sight of him above you, smirking down at  you victorious made you crave him all the more. 

“I don’t need you to need me either,” Shanks says as he brings your wrist to his lips. He kisses the inside of your wrist gently; once, twice. “As long as you want me. That’s good enough for me.” He pauses to drag his tongue over the inside of your palm. Shanks eyes look down at you, away from where he is pressing your fingers against his mouth. They linger momentarily on your neck, and on the necklace, on your exposed breasts. “The way I want you,” he confesses in a low voice, before dragging his wide tongue up your index finger and plopping it into his mouth.

He sucks on it noisily, and slowly, holding eye contact. You feel close to combusting. Fury, or lust, you’re not sure. All you know is heat, all consuming, scorching, blinding heat. You force your hand out of his grasp, and use it to squeeze his face between your fingers. 

“Shanks!” you hiss, breathing barely regulated. He watches you quietly, eyes dipping occasionally to your heaving chest. He loved the way the necklace looked over your breasts, the way the gold caught the light; how beautiful your skin shone underneath. A smirk begins to form, so you tighten your grip. “How much longer are you going to drag this out?”

There’s a touch of remorse in the back of his mouth; barely sour enough to make him grimace. He looks away from your pleading eyes to your neck, adorned lavishly in the necklace he had brought you. You looked so beautiful and vulnerable. He supposed it was time he did something about that.

“I thought you liked this game,” he mumbles with squished cheeks. Shanks holds your wrist again and pulls until you let him go. His fingers tangle with yours, and he lowers it against the  bed by your head. Your fingers twitch, unfamiliar with this form of intimacy from him. Shanks' face draws closer to yours. You smell his sweet breath, and try not to count every freckle and sun spot on his cheeks like some kind of sentimental idiot. 

“Enough,” you say. Your voice is whiny. You loathe it. “I’ve had enough. You brute. You insensitive–” Shanks cuts you off with a searing kiss. His mouth is forceful against yours. You mumble protests, unwilling to give up control entirely. His hand squeezes yours tighter as he pushes back, nipping at your bottom lip. 

His tongue runs along your bottom lip, your back arches and you finally give in. You wrap your free arm around his shoulders to hold him close to you, savoring in the feel of his tongue inside your mouth. He brushes his tongue against yours, saliva coating both your lips until shiny. He moves to drop light kisses along the shape of your jaw. His next route of conquest is your neck, and you wince at his greediness–the way he’s sucking without a care in the world, as if he wants nothing more than to mar your skin for everyone to see what he has done.

He moves quickly, releasing your hand. You gasp when Shanks adjusts himself behind you in bed, face immediately burying itself on the side of your neck.

“Stay still, Doll,” he mumbles against your ear. Another shiver takes over your body when he takes your earlobe in his mouth. “I’m just trying to get a good feel for you. It’s been so long, after all.” He murmurs all of this against your ear, his breath hot and moist making you hyper aware of all his movements; the way his chest pushes against your back, how he lets go of the breast he was kneading to allow his thick fingers to traverse lightly over the side of your torso.

He continues until he is over your hip. He moves against your ass, pressing his erection against you. You hum lightly, enjoying the feeling of him–how thick and large he seems. There’s a ridiculous sense of pride swelling inside you for being the reason for his arousal; you, of all the seas he has traveled and conquered, it is you at this moment and no one else. His hand hovers over one ass cheek before he’s gripping it, gently massaging and spreading you open.

A brow rises high on your forehead. Before you can question him, Shanks makes a decisive move. He slides his cock between your ass cheeks, thrusting his hips gently to stroke himself between them. His breath comes out in puffs against the back of your neck with every slow thrust. You feel his precum smearing itself on your crack. It is a strange sensation, and you are ashamed to acknowledge how aroused you are at feeling him in a place he’s never explored before.

“Shanks,” you breathe out shakily. “Is this enough for you?”

He doesn’t answer you immediately, caught up in the lewd sight of his cock sandwiched in your voluminous and juicy ass. His breathing is ragged, chest burning from repressed lust. Seeing you–being with you–was not a common occurrence. The last thing he wanted to do was rush through this and forget to touch you, kiss you, in a spot he had planned–in a way he had fantasized about over and over.

“For now,” he grunts against your shoulder, biting and licking soon after. “Just give me a moment. I’ll take care of you too.”

You press your head back against him, exposing your neck to him. Shanks takes the invitation wordlessly, kissing and biting up your neck as he continues to slide his cock between your cheeks. His moans are soft, barely audible, but you feel the rumbling in his chest against your back every time he does. It makes you hotter, wetter. You sigh, desperate to feel him towards the center of you. You bring his hand around to your waist, slowly sliding his hand up your belly until it reaches the bottom of one breast. 

Shanks smiles against your shoulder, where he bites down once more, eliciting a moan from you. “I know, Doll,” he mumbles, reaching for your breast as you had wordlessly requested. “You need more, don’t you? Always so needy. Always needing more,” his breath is hotter than your skin at the moment. It bounces off of it, as he twists your nipple between calloused fingers. You bite back another moan. “You’re never satisfied, but what can I say?” He pulls at your nipple harshly, making you cry out. “That’s what I like about you.”

He slips out from between your cheeks. You start to protest when he releases your breast. Shanks sucks his teeth, trying to silence you. 

“I said I’d take care of you, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your ear, using his hand to lift one of your thick thighs. “You need to trust me more.” You help him without thinking, keeping your legs open while he slips his cock between them. His hardness is pressed against your soaking pussy. Your folds are slippery against his length. You hear him grunt softly against your ear, his breathing irregular as he stays very still. You chuckle, aware that he’s stalling–buying himself time.

Shanks loved a long game. He hated to cut things short.

Yet, like you, sometimes he was impatient. He moves shortly after, thrusting between your legs. It starts slow enough, his breath coming in short puffs hot against your ear. You reach behind you to grasp his hip. He rocks into you as you gasp, enjoying how thick he felt against your pussy, how the tip of his cock–mushroom tipped and meaty–would rub against your clit just right at certain angles. You reach further back, twisting your body, to grab a handful of his hard ass.

“Come on,” you goad him, finding it hard to think much less speak. “Touch me where it feels good.” Shanks laughs against your shoulder, and bites down over a blooming bruise. Your moan is high pitched as you try to reign it back. Although the party seems to continue outside the room, you don’t want to run the risk of your own crew hearing you moan. 

“Don’t hold back,” he tells you, licking the teeth marks he left behind on your brown skin. “I’ve come a long way, you know. The least you can do is let me hear you fall apart.”

You grit your teeth, as heat wraps itself around your head. Your eyes sting from embarrassment, and what’s worse, is that you feel yourself dripping all over his cock, coating it in your arousal. You’re well aware he feels it too. It can be the only reason he picks up the speed, a throaty laugh echoing in the room. 

In an effort to even out the playing field, you reach between your legs and grab the tip of his cock. You hear him gasp next to your ear as you guide his tip to your clit.

“I said here,” you repeat, rocking your hips so you can rub your clit against the tip of his cock. “This is where I want to feel you.” Your toes curl at the sensation, at how pleasure seeps deep into you, tightening with intensity at every rock of your hips. Shanks stills his movements, and presses his pelvis tightly against your ass. Your whines drive him to the brink of madness. He feels them inside him, tightening around him, pulling at his navel filling him with pleasure. His eyes shut close as he lets you take control–or lose it, he’s not sure. You seem delirious as you chase your orgasm, rocking on his cock as if your life depended on it.

Your juices coat his shaft, and he feels them slip lower, trickling down his balls. He pulls you even closer with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Go on, Doll,” he encourages you, his voice low and seductive as it breaks through your higher pitched moans. “Take it if you think it belongs to you. Take what you think is yours.”

You gasp as your ecstasy builds, your back arching as your hips stutter. You lose rhythm but it doesn’t matter, your orgasm swallows you whole. You reach out behind you blindly, your nails digging into his hair, scratching his scalp. You hear Shanks hiss as you cry out. He bites the top of your ear, and follows it down to your earlobe, to lose himself inside the crook of your neck, nuzzling your skin past the necklace. There’s plenty of reminders there–ones he had carefully left behind, but he figures a few more could never hurt. After all, you’re apart so often, he fears you’d soon forget how it feels to be desired and consumed by his affections.

You’re panting, barely coming down from your orgasm when you feel Shanks moving between your legs. His fingers rifle through your folds, enjoying the silky sensation of your cum around his fingers. You mumble something he can’t quite grasp as he tentatively inserts a finger inside you.

“Shanks!” you cry out, panting, eyes barely focused. “Hang on. Gimme a second.” He chuckles next to your ear, curving his finger slightly; searching. You bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

“I gave you plenty of seconds,” he says softly, playfully–as if he was singing. “You had your fun. I want to have some too.” You tremble in his embrace as he inserts another finger, and starts scissoring them inside you. You know he’d be annoyed, as you stay as quiet as possible, but you want to hear the way his fingers squelch when they go in and out of you. You want to hear him panting, the little soft moans that puff past his swollen lips. You want to feel him digging into your ass with his hips, feel his leaky cock on your skin.

“You’re doing it again,” he chastises as he pulls his fingers out. You gasp at the empty feeling, immediately craving him as soon as he’s gone. “I guess my fingers aren’t enough, huh?”

You swallow thickly, and move your hips testily, wiggling your ass against his erection. The look you give him over your shoulder is seductive enough to threaten to blow his head wide open. 

“If you know that then why don’t you hurry up and put it in?” you mumble breathlessly. You’re breathing so loudly, Shanks swears he can hear you panting inside his head; over and over. “Or do I need to help you with that too?”

Shanks resists the urge to laugh. He scoffs instead, a tinge of embarrassment weighing heavily on his face. He didn’t need your help period when it came down to pleasing you. Your assumption was daring, and insulting. Perhaps he should teach you a lesson–a good one–before he leaves again. Shanks uses his free hand to guide his cock towards your entrance. He swirls the tip around your opening, watching gleefully as you wiggle your hips, trying to get him to slip inside you.

“Impatient as usual,” he remarks, a broad grin as he avoids your entrance again, choosing to slide his tip up and down between your folds instead. “Good things come to those who wait. Ever heard of it?”

“Your English sayings mean nothing to me,” you mumble, despite understanding fully well what he was saying. You turn your head, trying to glare at him over your shoulder as best as you could while he was still busy teasing you with his cock. You shiver as you speak: “What about ‘el que tiene tienda que la atienda’? Ever heard of that one?”

Shanks chuckles again, kissing your ear, and your temple. He lets his mouth linger there as he presses his tip against your entrance. You breathe in a gasp, full to the brim with expectation.

“You’re right, never heard of it,” he mumbles against your skin as he pushes forward, sinking into you slowly. You moan softly, it rumbles at the bottom of your throat, and drops into the pit of your belly where it starts a fire. “You should teach me more. What does it mean?”

Your brain can barely comprehend his words. All you can think of, all you feel, is Shanks cock moving inside you, you feel his body behind yours, his strong arm wrapping around your waist. All you can smell is his breath on your skin, all you can feel is the heat his kisses leave behind.

“So?” he asks you again, moving his hips slowly as he lets you adjust around his girth. “You won’t tell me?” Your gasp is ragged, little jitters shaking your body with pleasure. Shanks was no small man, and this was not even close to your first time with him, but he always took you by surprise. Not that you’d ever back down and admit defeat.

“Gimme a sec,” you spit through clenched teeth. He begins thrusting into you, picking up the pace without another word. His pelvis slaps into your ass, making a loud sound as skin hits skin. His balls feel heavy against your swollen pussy. “I said–gimme a damn…” You moan loudly, and press your head against his chest. Shanks smiles and cranes his neck to kiss your cheek. 

“Take your time,” he grunts in between thrusts. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep from crying out but as usual, he reaches deep inside you, to the spongy spot that makes you fall apart. You gasp loudly, pants becoming closer and closer together. Shanks slides his hand from your belly to your breast. He grips it tightly, kneading, as he sucks on your neck, his fingers expertly finding your perky nipples.

They were already sore and sensitive from his earlier teasing, now, you could barely resist him.

You cry out, feeling control slip right past your fingers. 

“W-wait!” you beg, kicking your legs impulsively. Shanks lets go of your breast to pin it down, as he continues fucking you from behind. He squeezes your legs together, creating an even tighter sensation as he thrusts in and out of you. You whimper, and shake, eyes unfocused as pleasure pools at the center of you. Your pussy throbs and aches. Shanks can’t help but grin at the way your pussy squelches every time he moves. You’re dripping so much he feels your sweet juices down to his balls. 

“I’ve been waiting,” he says through gritted teeth but you don’t respond. He looks over at your face quickly, and realizes with glee that you won’t be telling him anything soon. Your hair still wet, is disheveled and tangled, partially sticking to your flushed face. Your cheeks glow under the scone lights, brown and warm and enticing. Your eyes are blown wide, lips glossy and swollen from all the kissing. On your neck and chest he can see bruises blooming already, only made all the prettier by the necklace hanging from your neck and over your breasts.

You look devoured, glorified and an absolute mess. Just the way he likes you. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” he asks you, his breath scalding against your cheek. His hand is clamped tightly on your thigh, keeping your legs tightly together. “You’ll cum for me, right, Doll? After all, I came all the way here to see your pretty face. To give you one of the necklaces you love so much. To give you all of this,” he says with a violent thrust. “Because I know how much you love it.”

You reach behind you blindly, savagely, your arm grasping his upper arm. You scratch his skin with your nails as you continuously cry out, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix almost painfully. You reach out again, his hip, his ass, a part of his shoulder. You know you’re not being kind, your nails digging deep to leave your mark, but you have lost your grip on reason.

You cry out his name when you cum, twisting, and shivering under his embrace. Shanks holds you tightly, not stopping his hips. He continues to fuck into you, grunting louder and louder. He moans your name against your neck, as you feel him stiffen. His hips stutter, as he spills into you, losing sense of rhythm. Your body is too sore, and your mind too fuzzy for you to care about him cumming inside you. 

Normally, you’d chew him out for it, but you had lost your fight the moment he shoved his cock in your pussy.

“Hey,” he drawls, licking the shell of your ear. You shudder, eyes fluttering close as your body feels heavier and heavier. You could fall asleep right there, if you really wanted to, covered in his scent, full of his cum and so spent. “You haven’t told me yet what it means.”

You somehow find the strength to laugh lightly. 

“It means if you’re not here to fuck me, somebody else will be,” you reply, looking up over your shoulder at him with heavy lidded eyes. Shanks gasps dramatically and drops a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

“See? All you try to do is hurt me,” he whispers with a crooked smile. You reach up with one hand to cup his cheek and bring him closer to your mouth. You rest your lips just over his.

“And you like it too,” you tell him before kissing him once more.