#anyway I am unsure of what gods to use in there and I'm a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden with using the wrong ones

[ceiling-karasu]

I was discussing Korean shamanism with @agotia-t after they introduced Hanbam, and this encouraged me to finally draw my White-Naped Crane shaman OC, Chongsu (link to months old post here), as I said I eventually would. I have briefly included her in The Rod that Blocks the Lightning (here, about 2/3rds of the way through the chapter), as well.

She participates in the spiritual and medicine making practices of the mudang, while avoiding the performances of the kisaeng path.

Here is an example of one of her gutdang worship rooms, in which she would perform sacred ceremonies.

Generations past, a Joseon style caste system was kept in place with the help of the spiritual priest class, mudang shamans with a mixture of Confucianism and Buddhism, enjoying many luxuries and power in their caste high above most other species.

In the current day of the AU, generations after the former kings and caste systems were overthrown, the scars still remain (ex. Weasels thinking they are superior to smaller species and the squirrels needing to be reminded that they are allowed to join the soldier hedgehogs).

The White-Naped cranes spiritual practices, and preference towards the old caste system, have fallen out of favor with the general populace of Flower Hill. It is, however, very popular with the Weasels, who still hold that they are superior to the smaller animals. Many shaman leave Flower Hill to join the weasels to provide spiritual practices, something Flower Hill cannot stop due to migration permits.

Chongsu is based on a mudang shaman whose bloodline supposedly ties back the strongest to Sungmo, the mother of all shaman priestesses. Which makes her a sort of community elder despite her young age, as well as her constant mysterious illnesses.

She is a young crane, who lives in Flower Hill, too sickly to make the annual migration to Teikoku (Japan), like most of the White-Napes cranes. She and her followers assist in making medicine for the troops. Her biggest wish and command is for all species to get along with each other in harmony. What she does not realize, is that as the ‘supreme leader,’ this could possibly be misinterpreted as a command for her followers to reinstate the caste system, by any means possible, which could even mean teaming up with weasel, wolf, or tiger leaders, who also wish to return to the caste system and crush all underfoot.

In real life, white named cranes are unusual in that they primary live in the demilitarized zone of North Korea, but migrate to Japan. Shaman still exist in Korea to this day (participating in spiritual/healing leaders, fortune telling, and entertainment such as with the kisaeng), but are sometimes treated with suspicion, especially in North Korea, due to many of them, especially the kisaeng (who the Japanese troops found similar to geisha, apparently according to reports), siding with the Japanese during the invasions. As a result, the distrust and semi discrimination the Flower Hill commanders hold for Chongsu, is a hint that all is not absolutely perfect in Flower Hill.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

You came — you called. | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

credits for the header - ghost's pic by the very talented @ave661 ✦ Word count: 2.2k ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: After being abused by your current date, in need of comfort, you call your ex-boyfriend and recurring fling, Simon, to talk. ✦ TW and general warnings: SFW, some kisses here and there but no smut, angst, you guys are in a complicated situationship, fluff, sensitive content (domestic violence) ✦ AO3 | Masterlist edit: I wrote a part 2 in case you're interested <3

A/N: I really need to finish my already started requests, really do but inspiration ONLY gets to me when I'm randomly existing and then a random prompt comes in mind and arghhh gotta write 😭 but I promise - if anyone reading this sent me a request, know I've started it already and I WILL finish. also, thinking really a lot about making a part 2 for this piece and making it smutty. pls let me know if anyone's interested! anyways, not proof read, hope y'all enjoy, x

━━━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━━━

It’s the same place as the last time you saw him. Ironic, maybe. You still smoke the same cigarettes he offered to you once in a promise it would help you calm down from your anxiety; it did. It did a little too much. You still wear that same necklace you refused to get rid off even after you dumped him, after you promised you’d never see him again, never talk to him again. God, hope he doesn’t get mad at that.

Truth is you’ve been failing at that for quite some time. You’ve been seeing him way more than it’s necessary, but contrary to how things used to be before, now every moment with him is a single time that ceases to exist once you get home. He texts; you ignore. He doesn’t text anymore till the next time he misses you. You ignore it till the next time you miss him. This time isn’t much different, only you have a bit more of a reason to be here, unsure if he’ll show up, smoking this damned red Marlboro and feeling like shit. Like absolute shit.

You exhale the smoke, your hair tied back in a ponytail through the cap gap. Hiding yourself.

His big broad figure fills the door in, and he comes inside. To your big surprise, he decided lastly to come; Simon looks at you with a bitter look on his face, his dirty blonde hair trimmed, his beard done, wearing one of his thousand black tight t-shirts and a pair of jeans. He looks the same as ever.

“You came.” You say, surprised as he pulls the chair back and takes the seat in front of yours. 

“You called.” He replies simply, his body relaxing spaciously in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Yeah, I did.” You let out some more smoke before discarding your cigarette on the ashtray. “But I thought you were still mad at me.” 

He looks at you in silence for a couple seconds, and scoffs.

“And that never stopped you from calling, did it?” He snorts impatiently. “Did something actually happen or are you just lonely and needing someone to help you fall asleep?” You feel derision in his attitude and his voice is dripping with venom and bitterness.

You close your eyes. Can’t blame him, can you? You had your own good reasons to break up with him, although stupidly, without thinking twice - without thinking that you’d end up missing him. Trying to find him in all the wrong places, wrong guys. 

“Well go on, Simon, what else do you still have to tell me?” You mimic him, crossing your arms and your face a little twisted in irritation facing him. “I was single, I still am. I had the right to be with someone else.” 

“I never blamed you for that. I never fucking blamed you.” Simon wipes his mouth with his hand, his ever icy expression breaking into frustration the second you open your mouth again.

“You are blaming me. You-”

“I fucking am not. I’m angry at the poor fucking choice you did. Getting rid of me for that fucker? You’re making a joke out of yourself, even for someone like me that’s fucking downgrading.” He snaps, regretting it the second later and squeezing his eyes for a moment. 

You remain silent. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. 

You stare into the distance of the window by your side, silent - embarrassed, regretful. Your hands together over your lap and your silence put together make him raise his head at you once again, in a sigh.

“I shouldn’t be here. Our conversations won’t ever end in anything good but me taking you to bed, if that’s what you want then I’ll gladly do it without all the trouble.” He states. You tremulously raise your eyebrows and your lips curl in a small hurt smile. 

Ouch.

You know he said it to hurt you. You know he’s angry, he’s hitting all the right buttons to get under your skin, he can’t help it. He can’t help but to be a bastard sometimes, he never learnt different.

Your eye stare down your own hands, you feel your lips tremble and the lump in your throat gets bigger each second. It's hard to hold back the tears, but for your dignity, you try. There's no less brutal way to admit something like that, so you vomit the words all at once.

“He hit me, Simon.”

His eyes open, the pupils slowly dilate like those of a shark that has just tasted blood for the first time.

Simon has blood on his hands. From too many people, more than you could count. And even if that's his job, never in all those hard years with him - you swore - had you ever seen him so pissed off.

The veins in his temples stood out and he swallowed bitterly, his mind empty; If he wasn't an extremely restrained man, then he would have gotten up and taken action right now. A thoughtless attitude that he might later regret - maybe.

“Tell me his address.” He snaps, his blood boiling enough for you to almost feel the heat increasing in his flesh. 

“Simon, no.” You immediately cut him off, shaking your head, almost crying at this point. "That's not what I called you for, I don't want you to hurt anyone. I broke up with him, I don't have anything to do with that son of a bitch anymore, I just-"

He interrupts you with a gesture and claps his hands to his face. He brushes his own skin roughly, as a self-reminder that if he gives in to his own anger, he'll let you down.

When he makes room for his eyes through his hands again and sees your reddened

face, tears streaming down your cheeks - he dies inside. 

He promised he’d always be there for you. He promised he’d never let you down, he’d always protect you, he’d kill for you. He said it plenty of times and you were completely aware that it was true. 

He couldn’t possibly let you down.

“No, please, I can’t- I just can’t when you cry.” He mutters, getting up from his seat and offering his hand. “You come with me. Please?”

━ ⟡ ━

The hot steaming water falls over your head, sweeping your tears as you hug your legs. Simon's fingertips brush calmly your back, he contours the bruises on your lower half like he's grieving. The silence fills in the bathroom if not for the sound of water dripping on your head. He pours some water on your back to soothe your pain - even if you're not feeling any at this point. 

"Why did you not call me before?" He asks, with painful confusion in his raspy voice. His hands are shaking and you know it's pure anger and his own incapability of holding himself back when it comes to feeling anger. You sigh, tired. 

"I don't know. I felt like I'd be unfair to you." You try to explain, your hands caressing your shins while the water runs through your skin. "And because I didn't want to get you in this state." 

His eyes narrow as he stares at you, and you shrug in response. It's clear to him why you don't like to get him stressed - he could never hurt you, but he was a danger to others.

 He waves his hands to shake off the water and stands up, grabbing and opening a clean towel for you.

You stand up, your eyes don't dare leaving his. He silently admires you, although his mind can't think much more than how guilty he feels for letting this happen to you - even though there was nothing he could do about it. You dry your feets on the mat and turn your back so he can wrap you in the towel, and he does so. 

Simon calmly brushes the towel against your shoulders, drying a bit of the water that drips from your whole body and once he’s done wrapping you in the towel, he places his hands on your back and leads you to his room.

His smell is everywhere around and what used to be intoxicating and lustful for you, is now soothing and quiet. You sit on the edge of his bed, silence seeming to be now a whole conversation between the two of you.

Your hand reaches for his and places it on your cheek. You look up at him with kitty eyes, your thumb circles the skin on the back of his hand till it finds the scar you were looking for – one of his oldest ones, according to himself. You close your eyes and snuggle into his hand, giving it a light, calming kiss.

He caresses your cheek and moves your hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” He says in a whisper. You nod, and he comes back moments later with a clean shirt of his. You tug it in your neck and quickly put it on letting the fabric run free on your body, loose. 

He starts removing rubbish from his bedside table – an ashtray, an empty can of energy drink, a gun. As you notice he seems to be trying to empty the room for you, you speak out.

"Wait, where are you going?" 

"I'll be in the living room if you need me for anything." He says simply. Before he can leave the room, you stop him by wrapping your hand on his arm. The sudden motion makes him turn around to face you, his dark eyes gazing at yours and seeming already aware of what comes next – a protest. 

"Simon." You use a warning tone, and he closes his eyes. 

"You don't want to have me around now, kitten. I'm far from calm…" He argues, calmly looking down at you now. The proximity burns you, he's too close. 

"I'm not scared." You mewl, your hands on his tough chest, he doesn't move a muscle. Your hands start trailing up to his neck, and you get on your tiptoes to wrap your arms better around him; Simon closes his eyes, drunk by the overwhelming feeling of having you so close to him. He misses you. 

One of his hands holds your wrist before you manage to curl up on his neck, and the other one gently holds on your waist. He bends down enough so he can reach your tiny self. He gives you what you want - his lips slowly catch yours in a slow, calm kiss; the warmth of his lips against yours is medicine to you – soothes all of your pain, eases all of your anxiety. He squeezes on your waist and pulls back once he starts feeling heaty and his breath starts to become uncontrolled, needy. He breaths against your lips, his eyes barely closed and his breath catching on his throat like panting. 

You stare at his lips before going back to his eyes. 

"Stop." He snarls, raising his head a bit, avoiding your face and the closeness you impose on him now. It feels wrong. You need space.

You close your eyes, you understand. It feels wrong. 

After all of this time of failed attempts to let go, to sound nonchalant and be away from each other – after all the fails and the sex, devoid of feeling type of sex, rough, delicious but raw sex, he wants to fuck you straight. He doesn't want to be angry, he wants to take you and make love to you. 

You understand. Feels wrong.

"Will you be fine here? You need to rest and I need to take a walk, clear my head." He mutters, avoiding your eyes for the sake of restraining himself. You nod. 

"I'll be alright. You'll come back, right?" You ask, looking at him - looking for his eyes. He stands back from you and nods. 

"Of course." He assures you, before caressing your hair slowly and giving you a calm kiss on the forehead. "Rest. Do not stay awake waiting for me, hear me?" He snarls, grabbing his keys and a hoodie of his, tucking it in and giving you space. 

You sit in his bed and nods, watching him leave by the room door and close it behind himself. Now alone, you close your eyes exhausted by the lack of sleep you've been having for these past few days; it doesn't take you long to fall asleep, surrounded by comfortable pillows that smell like his perfume – woody and whiskey. 

Walking in the streets, with his hands digging in his hoodie's pocket and tough stomps, Simon's face lit up by the light emanating from the street lamps. His body swings slightly to the weight of his steps, and he breathes heavily. 

After several minutes – more than he probably told you he'd take, he stops in front of a very familiar residence. You should know it wouldn't be any trouble for him to find your abuser's house. 

He took a familiar piece of cloth out of his pocket, it had been time since he last wore it. Now seemed like a good moment. A balaclava, full face mask – handmade, with a skull painted on. Simon hugs you and kisses your scars; Ghost wants revenge. 

[ollyissleepy]

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞

a/n: the way I cringed the entire time writing this lol I don't think I'll ever get used to writing about emotions. anyways, please read the end note and remember to vote in poll! cw: mentions of feeling high anxiety, swearing, my knowledge about pottery is based on the internet and is not to be taken seriously (I have no clue what the fuck am I talking about)

← prev. | m.list

To say you were nervous is an understatement. You were terrified, questioning if it was a good idea to meet up with Kozume. Yes, you knew him for multiple weeks, and you felt like you could trust him. On the other hand, you weren't sure if meeting up with him now is a good idea, especially with the confusing feeling you had towards Kozume. You didn't want to call it a crush just yet, rather just some weird sentiment or attraction? You were worried that with your conflicted feelings towards the man, you would make things awkward for the both of you. There was also the face reveal that you wanted to film with him, which added to the high anxiety you were already feeling.

You look around, trying to spot Kozume, the camera in your hand on record with it pointing to the ground. The plan was to film his reaction to seeing you for the first time, which was Kozume's idea. He believed that it would make a good thumbnail for the video, hopefully making it more interesting for the viewers. So you continue to look around, knowing that it's up to you to come up to him to greet him. You check the time, worried that he stood you up. You notice that it's only been a few minutes since you arrived at the meetup spot. You grow even more nervous, looking around once more. That's when you spot him in the distance, looking around as if trying to find you. The process was pointless since he had no clue what you looked like. You take a deep breath and start making your way towards Kozume.

"Hi," you say as soon as you reach him. His head shoots in your direction as he was looking in a different direction, his mouth wide open as if he wasn't expecting you to actually show up.

"Oh my God, (name), it's so nice to finally meet you," Kozume smiles and offers you a hug. You accept, though the hug comes out a bit awkward, since you were still nervous. "Fuck, you are so pretty." He lets go and looks at you up and down.

"Thank you," you smile shyly and look away, his stare making you nervous. "You're not so bad yourself." Kenma laughs, trying to release the tension between the two of you.

"So, what have you planned for us today?" He asks you, taking a camera out of your hands and pointing it at you. "Shit, you already showed it, right?" Kozume quickly points the camera to the pavement.

"No, I didn't really give it much thought, to be honest," you shrug your shoulders. "But showing my face at random points in the video is so funny to me."

"So, it's cool?" Kozume once again shows you in the video.

"Yeah, it's cool," you straighten your pose, unsure how to really act with the camera pointing at you. "Anyway, I thought that I could teach you pottery, and we could make some mugs or something together."

"Sounds cool. I'm not the best at this kind of stuff, though." He moves the camera to show his face and then points it back to you.

"And that's why I think it's a great idea for a vlog," you smile.

The two of you start making your way towards the workshop that your boss was kind enough to lend you for a day so you can freely record in there. Even though the walk there was short, due to stopping a few times to record, it takes you a while. You open the side door that opens directly to the workshop behind the shop you work at. You allow Kenma to roam around the space while you set up the stations. You hear him talking about stuff he sees on the shelves, recording everything.

"So, are you ready?" You ask, after you finish setting everything up.

"Yeah, I think," Kenma makes his way to where you're standing, sets the camera on a stand, and sits down in front of one of the pottery wheels.

You explain the basics of clay throwing and how to properly use the wheel. You allow Kenma to get comfortable with the wheel and texture of clay before helping him decide what to make. The two of you decide that throwing a mug is easy enough. You show him how to centre the clay to be able to start working with it. Kozume tries a few times and fails before you offer him help. You guide his hands, centring the clay on his wheel. You fail to notice the redness that appeared on his ears. You return to your wheel, fixing your posture in order to prepare to show Kenma the next step. You carefully move your fingers, the clay between your fingers changing its shape to look more like a mug. You make sure to move slowly and put your hands in a way that allows Kenma to see your technique easily and follow it. Other than a few words in a form of instructions and the quiet noises coming from the wheel, the workshop is silent. Kenma finds the silence comforting, taking him back to all the times he enjoyed watching you equally quiet to help him relax after a whole day of working. He tries his hardest to follow your instructions, but no matter what, his mug looks funky at best.

"And that's it!" You move away to admire your work before turning your body towards Kenma to check on his progress.

"Oh" is the only thing that leaves Kozume's mouth, his eyes going back and forth between his and yours mugs as if he's trying to figure out what went wrong with his.

"It's… cute," you try your hardest not to laugh at his piece. Kenma looks at you, not convinced with your words.

"I told you, I'm not good with this type of stuff." Kenma leans deeper into his chair, clearly disappointed with himself.

"It's alright; we can fix it!" You move closer to Kenma's wheel, turning it on. You once again guide his hands, helping him shape the mug. You're still oblivious to the redness that now moved from his ears to his cheeks. "See? It just needed a bit more love," you say, moving away, finally noticing Kozume's red cheeks, which makes you flustered as well.

"Well, now it needs to rest for a while before trimming and painting." You clear your throat before standing up to grab the camera so you can take closer shots of your mugs. "Who knows, maybe you'll return for the painting? It'll be way more fun, I promise."

"I don't think it's possible to not have fun with you," Kozume confesses, avoiding your eyes.

Suddenly, the workshop feels uncomfortably hot, neither of you sure what to say. Both of you sit in silence for a bit, avoiding each other's eyes. Kenma is the one to break it, asking if you want to do the outro together or if you'll record it later. You think for a while before deciding that filming it together would be way more fun. Making an outro with Kozume goes smoothly with him promising to return soon so both of you can finish your mugs.

"So, my place isn't too far from here. Maybe you could come over and chill with me for the rest of the day?" Kenma suggests helping you clean up the mess both of you made.

"Sure, sounds great."

location: Kenma's flat

Kenma decided to show you around his flat. 'So you can be comfortable,' he said. The two of you are now in the kitchen. It's a nicely finished room; it's classy with just the right amount of decor that doesn't clutter up the space. You look around, your eyes stopping at a calendar that's on the fridge. The noisy person that you are, you read what's written on it. You gasp after reading today's date and ask:

"You were supposed to be streaming today?" You turn towards Kenma, who's leaning against the counters.

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter; I can stream tomorrow." Kozume shrugs his shoulders, clearly not caring about his original plan for the evening.

"It doesn't feel fair to be honest. Like we spent hours recording for me, you suddenly feel bad, knowing he has to change his schedule to accommodate you, especially seeing that the next day has big bold letters 'DAY OFF.'.

"It's fine, I promise," Kenma smiles at you.

"Kozume…" you start, but the noise of the front door closing.

"Hi, you must be (name)?" A man with short, black hair enters the room; you guess that it has to be his flatmate.

"Yeah, and you're…" You didn't know his name, since Kenma never mentioned it.

"Akaashi." He extends his hand towards you. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." You take his hand into yours and shake it, smiling at him.

"Hey. You want to see my office?" Kenma brings your attention back to him. "Since I saw your workspace, I figured you should see mine."

"Yeah, sure," you follow Kenma behind, saying your goodbyes to Akaashi.

Kozume takes you deeper into the apartment. You pass a set of doors before he opens one of them. The main focus of the room is most definitely his desk with multiple monitors on it and a custom PC. On the opposite side of the room, there's a not infamous couch that Kenma spilt his secrets on while drinking with friends. You chuckle at the memory, which caught Kozume's attention.

"What are you laughing at?" Kenma tilts his head, his brows furrowed.

"Isn't it THE couch?" You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the fact that he confessed in front of thousands of people while live-streaming, and you're now standing in the same room as him.

"Yeah," he sighs, and when you look over at him, you notice that he looks quite sad, remembering what happened.

"Don't beat yourself up too much," you try to cheer him up, coming closer to you. "It's not like it didn't work out for you. I mean, I am here with you."

"Yeah, you're right." Kenma has a shy smile on his face with his ears getting red again.

"Hey, what if we stream together tonight?" You ask, looking over at his desk. "As long as I'll stay hidden from the camera, though."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll stay hidden." Kozume's smile is much wider now.

Next thing you know, Kenma is out of the office, bringing another chair for you to sit on. He sets up the space, making sure you'll be able to comfortably read his chat and play without being seen. It made your heart flutter, thinking how eager he was to ensure your comfort. The two of you sit in front of his desk with Kozume writing something on his phone.

"Wow, that was intense" you say as soon as the stream ends, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, but don't worry they loved you" Kenma smiles, getting out of his chair and moving onto the couch.

You decide to join him there. The two of you fall into the comfortable silence. Or at least comfortable to you. When you decide to turn to look at Kenma, you notice that he is deep into his thoughts, clearly overthinking something.

"What's on your mind, Kozume?" You ask him, turning your whole body towards him.

"It's just that the entire chat was asking if we were on a date or something and I just worry that you're forcing yourself to do all of that" Kenma says after a few more minutes of silence, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

"Listen, I wouldn't ask if you want to hang out with me if I didn't want to" you extend your hand towards his face, turning it towards you. "I might not feel exactly the same way you do, but saying I don't feel anything towards you would be a complete lie. I do feel something towards you, maybe not love just yet, but definitely something deep."

"You really mean that?" the rest of kenma's body turns towards you, his face getting closer to yours.

"Yeah, we could try and go on some dates or something and see where it'll take us" you move your face even closer, both of your breaths mixing with each other. "We could try."

"We can try" Kenma smiles, closing the gap between you into an intimate kiss.

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

Hi everyone! Main part of 'fanboy' came to an end, however I might not be ready to part with these two. I have a few ideas for adding more to their story, but I’m not sure in what form you’d be interested in reading it.

@sunsribn @starssfall @cherryblossomy @vaedotcom @bae-ashlynn @theweirdfloatything @strawbrinkofdeath @scinclaitnoir @kodzubaby @shi-toshi @madiexuberant @fiannee @giocriedpower @moucheslove @3lectraheart @defnotciara @miruac

[jamilelucato]

Unlikely - Emmett Cullen

Summary: Edward Cullen discovers a surprising secret when he inadvertently tunes into the thoughts of a fellow student, [y/n] [y/l/n], revealing her crush on none other than his brother, Emmett. As their unexpected connection unfolds, both face the complexities of love and the challenges of their supernatural existence.

Pairing: [y/n] [y/l/n] x Emmett Cullen

Universe: Twilight

Author's Note: So, I have had this in store for a while, waiting for the right time to post it. I feel like Emmett deserves I do it. Btw, I can't promise a part 2 or something like that. For an unknown reason, it's been hard for me to write characters kissing and stuff. But get them flirting below.

Info: Emmett here is supposedly enroled in the same year as Edward and Bella, because I wanted to keep him in school whereas I wanted Rosalie gone. Love Rosalie, though. I'm telling you this because it's not canon, so... there you go.

### Edward was the first to notice, of course.

He wasn't paying much attention until this girl's thoughts popped louder than the rest of the cafeteria.

Edward already had so much trouble — keeping tabs on Bella Swan — that his most minor concern was the other students at Forks High School.

But her thoughts were loud and clear. I can't believe it! I… I am crushing on him! Gods, embarrassing…

Edward Cullen frowned. He was always around teenagers, and more often than not, they'd find themselves in love. Why was this random girl's mental voice so loud and clear, then?

He's never paid attention to me before. He just borrowed me a pen. Get a grip on yourself, [y/n]! The girl's mind shouted, reprehending herself.

"What is it, Edward?" Bella asked, calling back his attention to her. Edward was curious about the other students, but no one in the world came before Bella Swan to him.

"Someone's called my attention," Edward answered, letting Bella grasp his hand.

"Good or bad?" she asked.

"A student," Edward answered, unsure yet if listening to the random girl's thoughts so clearly was a bad sign. "She's found herself crushing on someone."

Bella looked puzzled. "Oh, well. It happens to all of us," she jested but still looked worried. "Any idea why her voice is louder?"

Even after all those many months apart, Bella quickly understood Edward's gift. But the loud voice had disappeared.

"It was [y/n] [y/l/n]. But I don't know who she's crushing on that can be so bad…" Edward let his sentence trail off, looking around the cafeteria for the human.

Emmett's face lit up, and he chimed in. "[y/n]? I talked to her today in Biology class. She's my lab partner."

Bella moved her neck to face Emmett better. "I did not know that."

Emmett shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we interact. She's been my partner for a while in that class, but you know…" he didn't finish his sentence, embarrassed to tell Bella what he really thought. But Edward read it all in Emmett's mind: but I don't usually bother with humans.

Edward pressed his lips together, reacting to his brother's thought. He also didn't want to tell Bella that he agreed.

"But what was it about [y/n], anyway? Is she in danger?" Emmett asked, not showing his concern. To Bella, it all seemed like curiosity. But to Edward, well, he saw Emmett's thoughts trailing off.

"No, not at all," Edward nodded. "I don't think I've tuned to her thoughts before, that's all. It was just so loud a minute ago."

"Ah," Emmett let out. What was she saying? I know you won't tell me, but you sure as hell told Bella.

"What I said is what I heard," Edward affirmed, answering Emmett's mind. 

"So she has a crush, good for her!" Emmett said, raising his tone just a bit but enough for Bella to notice. 

Before Edward could intrude on his brother's reaction, Emmett left.

***

Emmett sat at his seat, tensed. Being a vampire and all, he had no need for breathing, definitely no need for oxygen. But it was a habit to do so, to get a grasp of scent and also to act more "human". However, that day, he felt like he was hyperventilating.

So Edward had heard [y/n] had a crush on someone. No big deal. Was she one of the funniest girls he ever met? Yes. Did she have such a crooked smile that made her more beautiful? Yes. Did she seem to always understand him, even when he barely spoke to her? Yes. But that meant nothing and would stay meaning nothing, for she was a human, and he was a vampire. 

Emmett concluded it would have been better if Edward had not mentioned any of [y/n]'s thoughts. In fact, since Edward was always so focused on Bella, Emmett thought [y/n] would stay out of his radar. Goddammit.

"Hey, Emm," [y/n] said, catching Emmett by surprise as she sat beside him.

[y/n] was in many other classes Emmett was enrolled in, but Biology was the only course they actively sat together. Well, one time in English class, Emmett was left out of group partners, and [y/n] politely and unexpectedly asked him to join her group. But that had been one time.

He wouldn't admit it to his siblings, but [y/n] had caught him off guard. Emmett had been so distracted thinking about her that her scent passed unnoticed when she was finally there.

"Hi, [y/n]!" he replied, quickly cleaning his throat after noticing his "hi" had sounded a bit too high-pitched. He wished he had a nickname for [y/n] as she had, with time, shortened his name after the forced proximity. He had tried out some possibilities in his mind, but he was a man of his time, and just calling her by her first name and not simply "miss" was too much for his little mind.

"It's snowing today," she prompted, shifting her eyes from his face to the window nearby.

"I noticed," Emmett nodded.

"Do you plan to snow-fight your siblings?" she asked shyly after becoming embarrassed by his gruff reply.

Emmett's face lit up just a bit, and he hoped it was invisible for [y/n]'s human eyes. She's trying to make small talk, he concluded, smiling internally.

"You've noticed I do that, huh," he playfully leaned his head.

[y/n] smiled. "Last year, I saw you trying to hit Alice. She was quick though," she said, moving her shoulders as if to shrug, but not quite. "I just hope you don't plan to have your fight in the cafeteria again."

Emmett's eyebrows were eager to shoot up, but he controlled them just in time. So [y/n] had noticed him and his siblings since the year before. Of course, she had known Emmett since their first high school year — or should he say her first high school year? — and of course, one thing or another, she was bound to catch up about the Cullens. But to have detected him launching Alice a snowball... and to remember it, that was something.

"Be careful then," Emmett joked. "I can't make any promises."

"Oh, please," [y/n] rolled her eyes, shifting the way she sat so she could look to the front of the classroom. She continued without facing Emmett, "As if you would ever hit on me... I mean, on me! No! I mean, hit me! With a snowball."

Her face was so red Emmett thought her head was going to explode. Did humans' heads do that? Did they explode?

[y/n] saw he looked concerned, but she misinterpreted it. Emmett had barely noticed her slip in language use.

"I don't mean you would hit on me at all," she kept shaking her head as if to erase her language mistake. "Not that it matters; both are something you would never do," she whispered now, more to herself than to the boy, but being a vampire, he heard it all. "Forget it, Emmett. I'm so sorry."

Emmett was instantly calmer, but not because he was glad she apologised — why was she apologising again? — but because the redness was slowly disappearing from [y/n]'s face, which definitely meant she was not gonna explode, he felt very relieved, which surprised him. When Edward had mentioned, the year before, how easily humans could die, Emmett had thought his brother was being absurd. But he was worried about this human girl beside him for some reason.

He planned to ask [y/n] if she was indeed all right, but the professor walked in, and all the chances he had to do so seemed to disappear.

***

[y/n] could not, for her life, tell what Mr. Banner was going on and on about. Was it about cells? About nature? She was utterly unfocused, even though her eyes were fixed on the weird teacher. Well, actually, she would fix her gaze at anything and anyone, if that was enough, to avoid looking to her left and eyeing Emmett Cullen.

All her mind could do was blame herself. She had known Emmett since the Cullens came to the town; there was no reason for fuss. The family was undoubtedly the most beautiful of all. All of them could be models, including Dr. Carlisle, whom she met when she unintentionally had to stitch a bruise. Since entering high school and having known them, her gaze was fatally met with Emmett's.

It was not as if he had reacted in any other way, if not with boredom. She grew discouraged after each "incident" but continued to spy on the Cullen family. However, whenever Rosalie and Edward caught her staring, [y/n] felt uneasy and quickly averted her gaze. She knew there was no point in admiring Emmett Cullen when he already had Rosalie Hale by his side. So, who was [y/n] compared to the stunning blonde goddess?

[y/n] was extremely surprised when she witnessed the Cullens' return to Forks.

Seeing Bella Swan go through a "mourning process," [y/n] felt understood because she had felt the same way, although on a much smaller scale. However, she would never have confessed it or let it show. Who was she to miss the Cullens?

She never expected Edward Cullen or Emmett to come back, but one day, there they were. [y/n] arrived late one day and had not noticed the extra car in the parking lot. When it was time for biology class, [y/n] was caught off guard to see that she had a new (old) partner already sitting at the table they were supposed to share.

Letting herself dive into this thread of thought, [y/n] was sure that it was not at that moment, when he returned, that she saw herself surrendered to Emmett. Yes, she had gotten more loose and relaxed when she noticed that Rosalie had not accompanied her siblings or Jasper Hale because they had graduated. But Edward's gaze still haunted her. Something told her that the whole family moved by the boy's fault (even if the rumours said that Dr Carlisle had accepted a better job), so [y/n] was afraid that Edward would make his family move again.

After secretly paying attention, she was surprised to detect that Bella was also afraid of them disappearing again.

Before Biology class ended, [y/n]'s mind replayed a specific, very recent memory. The day before, she was about to write something down when her pen started failing. She thought she wasn't reacting noticeably, but somehow Emmett glimpsed her sudden need.

"Do you want a pen of mine to borrow?" he asked, already holding the thing out to her grasp.

[y/n] raised her eyes from her notebook to meet his golden gaze.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled, borrowing the pen.

Emmett had said nothing more and returned his gaze to Mr Banner. [y/n] thought she ought to do the same and rushed to write down the rest of the speech.

When the class had ended, [y/n] turned to Emmett before he could head out. "Here you go, Emm," she smiled at him, trying her hardest to look polite. "Thank you."

The nickname must have gotten him off guard — even though [y/n] was sure she had called him so before — because his golden eyes widened.

"You can keep it," he said, not a hint of hesitation, even though his expression seemed hesitant.

"Oh," [y/n] gasped. "Thanks again, then," she smiled with her cheeks high, feeling they were reddening.

It was then he surprised her: Emmett smiled.

She did not see it coming at all. [y/n] had talked to the boy before. They had even joked around — when Mr Benner said something sex-related, the duo was really juvenile for that topic, and they would always let a little chuckle out — but that smile was different. It was wide, genuine. Emmett showed all his beautiful white teeth at her, and she was mesmerised by the whole view. He had dimples.

Emmett Cullen had dimples!

[y/n] remembered stumbling in her words, trying to find something to say because she wanted Emmett to keep smiling. But he simply nodded at her and got up, leaving the classroom before [y/n] could form a coherent thought.

She spent the whole day revisiting the memory of his smile and dimples. She was frozen in that Biology class; it was as if she never left. In her mind, she kept the conversation going. She knew he was a clown — she liked him best of all the Cullens for it — and so perhaps, she could have prompted a joke, such as "Do you think we're so poor compared to you, rich Cullens, that I need a pen as a gift?" It could've been funny; maybe he would've kept smiling. Perhaps he would laugh but really laugh and not hold back as usual.

But, in the end, she said nothing, just like today.

When Mr Banner announced they were free, [y/n] instantly turned her gaze to Emmett.

"Oh, sorry there, Emm," she swallowed hard, trying to keep her brave facade as she spoke to him. "It seems there's no longer snow for your fight."

He shrugged, and a light of playfulness hit his face. "No problem there. I can just punch Edward straight up."

She wasn't sure if it had been his innocent way of speaking or if it had been the mention of just the right brother, but [y/n] cracked up in one of her loudest laughs yet. The students who hadn't already run out of the classroom all turned to stare at her.

Emmett seemed to get in a shocked state. He wasn't expecting that reaction.

"I'm sorry," [y/n] said, trying to catch her breath. It was not easy; she still wanted to laugh. "I... I don't know why that was so funny."

"Maybe because Edward has a very punchable face," Emmett suggested, letting go of his restraints and following [y/n] in chuckles.

"I'm sure you've done that many times," [y/n] raised a brow, instigating him to go on.

"Unfortunately," Emmett tilted, "no, I have not."

"Oh," [y/n] did not see that answer coming, "too much of a good brother?"

Emmett snorted a laugh. "Definitely not that. I just never seem to catch him," Emmett knew why that was so, whereas [y/n] would never have a clue: Edward read his mind any time Emmett tried to catch the sibling by surprise with punches or simply trying to give a scare.

As much as [y/n] wanted to continue the conversation, she had the next class to go to. She sighed lowly, but Emmett heard it right away, and he couldn't help smiling at her silly human reaction to leaving.

[y/n] stared at his smile like a child watching Santa come down from the chimney.

"Dimples," she thought aloud, not realising it until it was too late. Hoping Emmett didn't notice, she averted her eyes and started gathering her books, but the Cullen had heard it all too well.

He remained silent, though, allowing her heartbeat to stead again. When she was already up, probably about to nod him goodbye, he said, "You have dimples too."

***

Red is definitely her colour. How have I never noticed before? Besides that cute turtle neck she was wearing, when the red flushed her cheeks, that was...

The image totally got Edward by surprise. He was walking out of one of his classes when, passing the hallway, a mind ahead called his attention to a particular image. Then, the voice! The oh-so-familiar, very annoying mental voice of none other than Emmett Cullen.

In seconds, Edward was beside his sibling. "What was that?"

Shit! Emmett's face was as embarrassed as his mental voice. The sibling quickly started singing some random annoying pop song to pull Edward out of his mind, but it was too late.

"Why were you thinking of [y/n] like that?" Edward asked.

"Like what?" Emmett replied, but Edward's question worked, making Emmett revisit his thoughts, and [y/n]'s face popped up again, with Edward getting a complete view.

The old-school vampire was suddenly repulsed and stepped slightly to the side.

You are the one in my mind! Emmett accused him in thought.

"Not because I want to, believe me!" Edward exclaimed, returning to his spot next to Emmett. "Brother, I better hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything," Emmett said defensively.

Edward raised a brow, wishing Emmett could read his thoughts and see how foolish in love Emmett had thought about [y/n].

"Stay out of my business," Emmett nudged his brother. I can't find anyone pretty anymore? 

"After having Rosalie, I highly doubt you'd think that of a human," Edward answered Emmett's unspoken question.

"Rosalie and I... we're not a couple. We have our fun; that's all," Emmett said. "Besides, we haven't had fun in decades; you know that."

Edward knew because he had read their sex-deprived thoughts before. Still, he had thought Emmett was evolving, for he had stopped picturing Rosalie in a… needy way. But now, it seemed it had a different reason why.

Suddenly, another piece fell into place.

"She has fallen for you," Edward gasped in such a whisper only vampire hearing could catch it.

What? Emmett's mind shouted. "Don't be silly," he said aloud.

"It was definitely you [y/n] mentioned having a crush on yesterday," Edward continued his theory, forcing them both to stop walking and stay in the middle of the hallway. "That's probably why she caught my attention; she must have exclaimed your name! In thought," he added, although it was apparent.

"Are you sure about this?" Emmett asked, out of habit mostly, for he knew that no amount of hoping could make Edward wrong, not when he had a sibling so powerful.

Emmett's mind was racing as he tried to process it all. It was the first time Edward had trouble keeping up with him. Emmett was generally slower, even mentally, than Edward, but that was not the case now as he tried to understand everything about [y/n]. Edward caught up to some images — [y/n] blushing, [y/n] making a joke and laughing alone, and then the terrifying one. It was similar to the ones Edward had regarding Bella, too: [y/n] with eyes so red and skin so pale that there was no denying her heart no longer beat.

But when Edward returned his gaze to his taller brother, Emmett was not sad at the view, not half as much as Edward was when he thought of Bella as a vampire.

"Stop it," Edward begged, noticing Emmett's mind went on; he had started enduring the idea of Bella talking to [y/n] about what it was like to love a monster.

Emmett shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "Sorry, man. It's just that...I never thought someone like her would fall for me."

Edward's worries shifted topics. "Why would you say that?" Edward had felt like that; he still felt like that with Bella, always thinking of himself as a killer and not deserving of love. But Emmett was most comfortable being a vampire out of all his family members. So, his brother had never thought to see him doubting himself.

Emmett's thoughts were faster than his tongue. Not even Rosalie fell for me, not really, and she was the one that found me, and she's our... species. [y/n] is a human girl with a life ahead of her, a full one at that; I don't see how she'd fallen for me. "Are you sure it's love?" Emmett asked out loud.

"Well, she thought it was a crush," Edward replied, returning to his own memories of [y/n]. But he didn't dwell on them for long. Edward was still trying to process Emmett's confession about Rosalie. He had always seen Emmett as cheerful, never realising that his brother might also feel unloved. They had more in common than Edward had ever thought.

Emmett sighed, and even before Edward could say anything — advice or a comforting word — Emmett lowered his head. "I know, Edward. I understand the risks."

Edward frowned. He couldn't believe Emmett immediately concluded that Edward would be mad at him. Of course, there were risks, not just because the girl involved was human. Even if Emmett didn't think Rosalie loved him (and Edward, being a mind reader and all, agreed), she would also cause some trouble. 

But who was Edward to judge his brother's choices regarding a human?

"Look, if you decide to pursue this relationship, I'll support you."

Emmett smiled, surprised but yet feeling grateful for his brother's support. Thank you, he thought, and Edward nodded.

Edward thought love was a powerful emotion, and he couldn't blame Emmett for feeling like he did. However, he hoped that Emmett would make the right decision, whatever that may be.

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Ten

...hi guys. long time no see... i promise i didn't mean to make you guys wait almost two months for an update, but. i survived a hurricane and got a new puppy among other Life Things in the meantime, so. you know. also i had to split this chapter yet again, so the events i thought would be contained in one chapter (ch8) now spans four whole chapters, which means more for you guys to read! so i hope that makes up for it.

also, going forward, satoru's mother will be referred to as "gojo-hime", with "-hime" being an honorific used for high ranking/noble ladies. i am aware that gojohime is also a ship, but that is not what i'm referring to in this fic! for clarification purposes it will always include the hyphen in between the name and the honorific. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~6.2k | cw: gender neutral reader, the beginning of the aftermath of finding reader's dragon, satoru's dad is once again a dick, light angst, some crying, brief moment of light violence, i think that's it!

You exchanged a baffled look with your friends at the sound of your mother’s rage, though for a moment none of you moved, unsure of what you should do. When the sound of your mother’s voice grew closer, though, her anger practically rattling the walls, you nearly toppled out of your seat in your rush to meet her.

“Ma’am, you can’t go that way without—”

“I will search every inch of this estate if I have to!” your mother interrupted, and you opened the door to the dining room just in time to see her turn on the staff that were attempting to stop her. Her hair was a mess, a bit tangled and clearly unbrushed as it fell around her shoulders. She still wore her robe, a small bit of the fabric of her pajamas peeking out at the neck; it was unclear if she’d slept fitfully the night before, or if she’d even slept at all, but even with signs of sleep draped over her, she was a force to be reckoned with.

“If you do not tell me where my child is right this instant I will tear this house apart, starting right here in the hallway. I’ll pull the floorboards up with my bare hands. What has that man done with my baby?”

The servants in the hallway stood frozen in place, more than one of them having gone pale faced at your mother’s rage, but what drove you to call out to her wasn’t pity, it was the ache in your chest that had been there since you’d been commanded to stay the night away from home.

“I’m here, mom,” you said, stepping out of the dining room, still clutching Takara to your chest. “I’m right here.”

The sound of your voice had your mother whirling around again, her eyes wide as she finally caught sight of you. “Oh thank god,” she choked out, closing the distance between you in just a few steps and falling to her knees before you. With tears in her eyes, she looked you over for any sign of injury, taking your face in her hands and tilting your head back and forth, her voice nearly frantic as she repeatedly asked “What happened? Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt?”

“Nobody did anything to me, I’m not hurt,” you told her, your own eyes filling with tears now that you were reunited with your mother. “I’m okay.”

Your mother seemed to relax a bit at your reassurances, but when Takara let out a small, curious noise from her spot in your arms, your mother startled a bit and looked down. When she caught sight of the creature in your hold, her eyes flew wide again.

“What—”

“She’s mine,” you said quietly. “Her name is Takara.”

As you spoke, Takara shifted slightly in your hold, resting her chin on the side of your hand and looking back up at your mother. She didn’t make a sound, though her emerald eyes remained unblinking all the while.

After another moment of staring at the hatchling in disbelief, your mother lifted her gaze to yours again, and her expression softened a bit. “She’s lovely,” she said quietly. “I told you you’d find your dragon soon, didn’t I?” 

You nodded at her words, but when one of her hands released your face to stroke your hair, you felt your bottom lip begin to tremble as tears filled your eyes. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You did.” You didn’t protest as she carefully wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek, though she didn’t otherwise acknowledge that you were crying, which you appreciated.

The moment between the two of you came to an abrupt end when Kenji and Niji raced out of the dining room, squeezing themselves between you and your mother, both of them sniffing you all over until the boys called them back. Seeing your friends’ dragons made you realize that your mother’s was absent.

“Where’s Spark?” you asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“Your father made him stay home,” she replied. “He wasn’t handling my mood very well, and probably would’ve just made the situation worse.” She stood, pulling her hands away from your face in the process, and offered you a smile. Exhaustion was plain as day on her face, but it was clear she was trying to hide it for your sake, so you said nothing. 

“Now,” she said, reaching towards you once again, as if to guide you down the hall and out the front door. “We should be getting home, don’t you think?”

Before you could give so much as a nod in response, a familiar voice set your heart racing with anxiety.

“They won’t be going anywhere for the next week,” Gojo-sama said, stepping into the hallway from who knew what room in the house. Despite the early hour, he looked as composed as ever, dressed in clothes that you could tell from barely a glance were more expensive than your family could ever hope to own, his greying hair combed back from his face, not a single strand out of place. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his shirt, and he wore a placid yet stern expression.

Upon noticing his presence, the servants bowed deeply, then rushed to get out of his way. The rest of you – dragons included – turned to face him, practically frozen in place as you waited for him to speak again. Before you’d had to face him in the dragon housing the night before, you’d never fully understood why people feared your best friend’s father the way they did. It was clear to you now, though; his mere presence was enough to have you shaking, authority and muted anger practically radiating from him.

“And why, exactly, is that?” your mother asked. She was completely rigid at your side, but her voice was steady, not betraying any hesitance or fear she might have been feeling. 

“Because the first week spent with a dragon after bonding with them is an incredibly delicate time, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Gojo-sama replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “And historically, that period is especially precarious and important for metallic dragons and their riders. It’s best to disturb them and their surroundings as little as possible. Which means they’ll both have to stay here for the time being, I’m afraid. They need someone to keep an eye on them, to make sure nothing is going wrong, and that the whole process is as smooth as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I am not capable of caring for my own child? That our own home isn’t suitable for them and their dragon?” Your mother’s voice was sharper now, a hard edge you weren’t used to hearing from here, even when she was scolding you or disagreeing with your father.

“What if I am? Metallic dragons and their riders deserve the best of everything the world has to offer, and you and I both know which of our families is capable of providing that.” 

The smug expression he wore didn’t last long. Her anger finally seeming to win against her fear of the man, your mother stormed towards Satoru's father and slapped him across the face before anyone else had a chance to stop her. 

You, Satoru, and Suguru watched, wide-eyed, as your mother lifted her hand as if preparing to strike him again, but this time he caught her wrist.

His eyes burned as he glared at her. “I would advise against trying that again,” he growled, voice low and simmering with danger. “Your luck will not be so good a second time.”

“And I would advise you release me right this instant,” your mother bit back. “If you don’t I’ll scream so loud the whole settlement will hear, and I’ll tell every single person that you kidnapped my child. That wouldn’t be a very good look for you, now would it?”

Gojo-sama’s face flushed bright red all over, briefly disguising the handprint your mother had left on his cheek. Even from several feet back, you could see the fury in his cold eyes – the same blue as Satoru’s, but completely lacking the playful warmth – and he only seemed to tighten his grip on your mother’s wrist.

The silence that blanketed the hallway was deafening, no one even seeming to breathe as the stalemate between the two adults dragged on. Just when it seemed that Gojo-sama had decided he was going to exact some sort of punishment against your mother for her behavior, another person stepped into the hallway.

“Goshujin-sama,” the woman called out softly, and your eyes went wide when you realized who she was. With her pale skin and long white hair – an even purer white than Satoru’s, somehow – there was no mistaking the lady of the house; Satoru’s mother, Gojo-hime. You dared a glance over at Satoru, unsure what his reaction would be to seeing his mother intervene in this conflict, especially since you’d gotten the feeling that Satoru didn’t often see his mother, much less outside her bedroom. 

Apparently equally as shocked by the woman’s appearance, both your mother and Satoru’s father turned to look at her. Your mother’s eyes were wide, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she looked almost embarrassed over her behavior. If Gojo-sama harbored such feelings, he did a much better job of disguising them. 

“Gojo-fujin,” the man replied, his tone measured, almost cautious, as he looked over at his wife. “Are you feeling well? I’m sorry if our… unexpected guest has disturbed you at all.” His words earned him a scowl from your mother, though she offered no actual argument, most likely in respect of the woman before her.

“A servant came to fetch me when they noticed your disagreement,” Gojo-hime explained, carefully making her way over to her husband. “I know you both want what is best for the child and their dragon,” she added, placing a hand lightly on her husband’s shoulder once she reached his side. “But you have differing opinions on how to give them that.”

Her gentle gaze landed on her husband’s, and she offered him a smile. “Why don’t you and I discuss it in a bit?” she suggested. “In the meantime, you should let this kind woman return home. She was just worried about her child when they didn’t come home last night. Weren’t you?” 

The last two words were directed at your mother, and she quickly nodded. “Yes, I was,” she agreed. “But I can see now that no harm has come to them. So if you would be so gracious to allow me to return home without argument, Gojo-sama, I will go willingly. And I will only return if I am summoned by you or Gojo-hime.”

Gojo-sama returned his gaze to your mother, clearly not thrilled by the proposal. He also seemed hesitant to disagree with his wife, though you weren’t entirely sure why; Satoru had never mentioned seeing his parents be even remotely affectionate with each other, and you found it hard to believe the man could actually feel love for another person, based on the way he’d treated you since you’d been caught with a metallic hatchling in your arms.

Eventually, though, he let out a sigh, and reluctantly released your mother’s wrist. “Very well,” he said, words clipped. “We will send for you once we’ve reached a decision on how to proceed." His eyes drifted to you for a moment, and he added, “Do not linger longer than you have to.” 

With a nod, your mother was quick to turn away from the man and hurry back to you. She pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to her chest for as long as she dared. It wasn’t long enough to soothe the ache in your chest, even when she dropped a kiss to the top of your head before she released you.

She turned back to the heads of the family, bowing low and murmuring, “Thank you, Gojo-hime, Gojo-sama,” before making her way down the hall. You understood why she didn’t look back at you again, but every step she took brought you closer to tears.

You startled slightly when a hand landed on your shoulder, but relaxed again when you saw that it was Satoru. More than anything, you wanted to turn and fall into him, to let your tears fall and let him comfort you the way you knew he would, but the humiliation of showing such emotion – which no doubt would be perceived as weakness – in front of Gojo-sama made you feel sick to your stomach. So, instead, you offered your friend a small nod of thanks.

When Gojo-hime called your name, her voice just as soft as before, you both turned back to face her. The smile she gave you was gentle, her eyes warm and kind as she really took in the sight of you. “Would it be okay if we talked for a bit?” she asked. “We can go back to my room, if you’d like. We’ll have more privacy.”

The words had barely left her lips before Satoru’s hand was falling from your shoulder. You were quick to look over at him, and what you saw broke your heart all over again; you’d never seen him look so defeated, apparently resigned to the fact that he was likely never going to get any quality time with his mother ever again, even if other people did. 

Standing on the other side of the snowy haired boy, Suguru caught your attention, his expression painted with a worried frown that mirrored your own. Without even needing to exchange any words, you knew that the two of you were in agreement about what needed to happen.

“Only if Satoru can come with me.” As you spoke, you turned to face your friend’s mother, trying to remain respectful even as you asserted yourself.

Gojo-hime’s sparkling eyes drifted to her son, and her expression softened even more around the edges. “Of course he can come,” she agreed. “I would hate to separate you from your friends.”

Her words had your ears perking up a bit in interest. “Suguru can come too, then?” you asked hopefully; it didn’t seem fair to leave the other boy on his own if you and Satoru were to be whisked away for who knew how long.

“Absolutely, as long as that’s what he wants.” Her eyes drifted from her son to the dark haired boy then, her serene expression never changing. 

Suguru was quick to nod in agreement, though he said nothing.

“Very well then,” Gojo-hime hummed, her gaze meeting yours once again. “You can all follow me.”

Though he barely moved, the woman squeezed her husband’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m more than capable of handling them on my own, goshujin-sama,” she told him. Her smile seemed a bit tighter as she spoke, her words almost too sweet when addressing the man.

Despite obviously being displeased by the unvoiced rejection, Gojo-sama made no attempt to argue, only sighed and nodded. “We will speak about this again later.”

“Of course we will.”

With one last glance at you, the Gojo family patriarch took his leave, heading down an adjacent hallway, heading off to a different part of the estate to… do whatever it was he did all day, you supposed.

“Shall we?” Gojo-hime said, smiling at the three of you and tilting her head slightly in the direction she had first come from.

Wordlessly, you nodded, adjusting your hold on Takara to where she was secure in one arm. Once your other hand was free, you reached out and took Satoru’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before you started after the woman. There was a small sound of surprise from your friends behind you, but they quickly fell into step, Kenji and Niji taking up the rear of your little parade. At one point you glanced over your shoulder to see how the boys were feeling about the situation, and you noticed that Satoru’s other hand was gripping Suguru’s; for some reason seeing that made your heart give a little flip.

Soon enough, Gojo-hime came to a stop in front of a wooden door, delicately carved with what appeared to be cranes and lotus flowers. She turned the knob and pushed it open, then turned to the three of you and ushered you into the room first, only stepping inside herself and closing the door once again once Kenji and Niji had cleared the threshold. 

“Please, sit,” she encouraged, her smile never once leaving her face. “Wherever you’re most comfortable is fine, I don’t mind.”

The three of you sat down on some large floor cushions, all of them somehow both softer and more solid than you had expected. Once you were all settled, you realized you had wound up in between the boys, and for that you were privately relieved; having them on either side of you made you feel more secure. Kenji and Niji settled beside their respective masters, heads in their laps, eyes focused on Takara, where she now laid curled up in your own lap.

“Now, I know you’ve just had breakfast,” Satoru’s mother continued, “but would any of you like something to drink? Any tea, or anything like that?” When all three of you shook your heads, she settled down on her own cushion a few feet away, facing you. She spent a few moments in silence, apparently just taking all three of you in.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under the weight of her gaze, no matter how kind, you allowed yourself to glance around the room. Despite the fact that the sun had risen a few hours before, the room was very dimly lit, the windows covered with heavy curtains, and the screens in the shoji door at the opposite end of the room seemed thicker than you were used to, not letting in as much light as the rest of the shoji doors in the rest of the house. You couldn’t help but wonder if the low lighting was because of her headaches. Satoru had told you before that, when he had his headaches, almost any amount of light felt like daggers in his eyes; maybe it was the same for his mother.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t go home with your mother.”

The words nearly made you jump with how quickly they drew you from your thoughts, and it took you a moment to realize they were directed at you.

“I’ll do my best to get you home to your parents as soon as possible,” Satoru’s mother promised. “But in the meantime, I’m glad to see that the clothes I sent for you this morning fit you.”

You nodded dumbly at her words, glancing down at your shirt. Seeing its color again had a question spilling from you before you could stop it. “Who do these clothes belong to? Satoru and Suguru don’t wear colors like this.”

Her expression grew sad at your enquiry and she dropped your gaze, though her smile remained intact. “I had a lot of clothes made when Satoru was very young,” she explained softly. “I… I had hoped for a long time that I would be able to have another baby, but it never happened.”

She met your eyes again with a small, bittersweet laugh. “But I accepted that years ago. I’m just glad the clothes won’t have to waste away in boxes anymore.”

Your throat felt tight as you listened to her speak, having not expected such an answer from her. It seemed almost miraculous that she could still be so kind after a hurt like that, and you were glad that she was so kind, so gentle, even if nobody would have blamed her if she’d grown bitter instead.

Maybe, you thought to yourself, she needs somewhere for all her love to go.

“Thank you,” you managed after a moment, blinking rapidly to keep from crying over what she had shared with you. “They’re very nice clothes, and I promise to take good care of them.”

“I wouldn’t be upset even if you destroyed them,” she assured you, then looked over at her son. “Satoru knows. He ruined more of his clothes when he was small than he would probably care to admit.”

When you turned to Satoru, you weren’t all that surprised to find he’d gone bright red, mumbling something under his breath about how it wasn’t his fault expensive clothes weren’t good to play in. The sight made you giggle, and you heard a soft chuckle from Suguru and another quiet, melodic laugh from Gojo-hime. With a groan, Satoru covered his face with his hands and flopped backwards, trying to escape the spotlight in any way he could.

Apparently deciding to have some mercy on her only child, Gojo-hime called your name again, waiting until your attention was back on her to speak again. “I really would like to know how you’re feeling about all this, and how you want to handle it.”

Your smile slipped at her words, and you took a moment to really consider what she was asking you. How did you feel? You weren’t really sure. Everything had happened so fast, you weren’t even entirely sure you’d processed all of it.

“Well,” you began tentatively. “It still doesn’t feel completely real, honestly. I mean… I’ve been waiting so long to meet my dragon, I guess I just kind of stopped thinking I ever would?” Your gaze dropped to Takara, who was already looking up at you, completely still except for her breathing. The corner of your lips twitched in the tiniest hint of a smile, and you stroked the top of her head lightly with a fingertip.

“I’m thrilled to finally have my dragon, of course, but… I just don’t understand why I’m the only person to bond with a metallic dragon in so long.” Your voice grew quieter and quieter as you spoke, until your words were barely above a whisper. “Why me? What makes me more special than anyone else? I’m not even from one of the big clans.”

You lifted your head to meet Gojo-hime’s gaze yet again; though her eyes were so much darker than Satoru’s, you could see the same warmth in them, the same openness. Despite your best efforts, you felt tears spring to your eyes once more. “Why did it have to be me? I never wanted to be anything special. I just wanted to meet my dragon and go back to how things were, living at home with my parents and spending time with my friends. I didn’t want to be anyone important, I just wanted to be me.”

By the time you finished speaking, your vision was completely blurred over and tears were pouring down your cheeks. Your breathing turned shallower, more like hiccups than regular breathing, and when you felt two sets of arms wrap around you, two warm, steady presences holding you between them, you only began to cry harder. Everything you’d kept bottled up, even beyond the previous day’s events, came pouring out of you, and you were powerless to stop it at all.

The feeling of two soft, slender hands cradling your cheeks caused you to finally lift your head from where it had fallen against Satoru’s shoulder, and you sniffled weakly as Gojo-hime carefully wiped your tears away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones. “You were always going to be important. Everyone is important in their own way.”

“But some people are really important,” you replied quietly, still trying to quell your tears.

She only shook her head at you. “Everyone is equally important, okay? Everyone. I’m not more important than the three of you, or more important than any of the staff that work here at the estate. None of us can do what we do without each other.”

You were silent for a moment, but eventually you gave a small nod. “Okay…” you whispered. Sniffling again, you let yourself lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering shut as she continued to wipe your tears away.

“I don’t know why it was you,” she continued after a moment. “I wish I had an answer for that, but I don’t. But I do know that you’re going to do great things. Whatever reason you were chosen for, no matter what it is, you will be more than capable of living up to it.”

“How do you know that?”

Gojo-hime just smiled at you, her genuine affection for you spilling out in her words. “Because you won’t have to do it alone. The people who love you will help you through it all.”

You wanted to ask how she could be so sure, ask her why she was so confident that you would eventually be able to do whatever needed to be done, but you didn’t want to argue. Knowing she had faith in you was enough for the moment, and you nodded slightly, allowing her words to reassure you, at least for the time being.

Once she was convinced you believed her, Gojo-hime pulled her hands from your cheeks, moving back to her seat. She allowed you a moment to compose yourself and wipe the few remaining tears from your face before she changed subjects a bit.

“How do you want to handle this, sweetheart?” she asked. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to convince my husband to agree to everything, but if I know where to start, it will be a bit easier to get him to compromise.”

“I want to go home,” you answered, almost before she finished speaking. “I miss my parents, and I want to go home. As soon as possible.”

“Of course. It’s clear that your mother wants you back home as soon as possible, too, so I will do my best to make that happen. Anything else?”

Knowing she would sit patiently and wait for however long it took for you to come up with an answer did a great deal to ease your mind, and took off the pressure to already know exactly what you wanted. “I think… it would probably be good for me to train with Yaga-sensei. My parents will help me as much as they can, I know, but… metallic dragons don’t show up for no reason, right? And I need to be as prepared as possible for whatever is coming.”

Hearing yourself say those words aloud was almost surreal; it was a mature take on the situation, a logical next step, but you weren’t ready to be mature like that yet. You wanted to be a kid for a little while longer, to spend time with your friends without responsibilities for another year or two, but that clearly was no longer in the cards for you. Growing up was coming sooner rather than later.

You spent a bit longer considering what you wanted and telling Gojo-hime those things as you decided them. She’d said she probably wouldn’t be able to get you everything you wanted, but she had promised to try her best, so you had hope. It was hard to gauge exactly how long you’d spent in the room, due to the reduced amount of light, but it felt like you’d been there for ages. Not in a bad way, though; being around Gojo-hime with your friends beside you and your dragon in your lap was rather peaceful, actually, even if the situation wasn’t ideal. 

When you finally felt you had covered all your bases, you glanced over at Satoru, the smile he offered you doing wonders to boost your confidence that you’d done well. Suguru wore a smile for you, too, when you turned and looked at him. Though his smile was a bit softer than Satoru’s, it was no less encouraging, and you felt the last bit of tension bleed from your shoulders.

“Thank you, Gojo-hime,” you said, turning back to face the woman. “I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten to talk it out a bit.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. I know this is a lot, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to take it in.” She hadn’t said anything about it in all the time you and your friends had been in the room with her, but you could tell how tired she was. “I won’t keep you here any longer, though. You can go if you’re ready.”

You nodded, picking Takara up with one hand and carefully standing from your seat. The hatchling shifted in your hold, making a small mumbling noise before falling back asleep. You could hear your friends standing from their seats just behind you, and you bowed to the Gojo matriarch as you thanked her once again.

She waved you off with a quiet laugh. “There’s no need for those kinds of formalities when Gojo-sama isn’t around,” she promised. 

A bit embarrassed, you nodded, then turned with the boys to leave the room and give Gojo-hime a chance to rest. You turned back almost instantly though, a question you were eager to have answered jumping to the front of your mind. “Where is your dragon?” you asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a dragon before.”

Her expression brightened a bit as she answered, “Oh, she stays in one of the housing buildings on the other side of the estate. You met her last night.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I did?”

“You did,” she confirmed. “Takara is her daughter.”

Eyes flying wide with shock, you blinked dumbly a few times, before uttering a very intelligent, “Oh.” 

Your response drew another soft laugh from the woman’s lips, though it was clear she wasn’t making fun of you. “Funny how those things work out sometimes, hm?” she mused, then pushed herself to her feet.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, once again turning to give Gojo-hime her space back. Before you’d taken more than just a couple of steps, though, you heard her voice call out again.

“Satoru, could you come here for a moment, please?”

Pausing, you exchanged a look with your best friend, only continuing on when he gave you a nod. Suguru opened the door, and you stepped out into the hallway, Suguru and Niji close behind. You turned back towards the room as Suguru pulled the door closed behind himself, and in the crack of the open doorway, you caught a glimpse of Satoru hugging his mother tightly, her arms wrapped around him as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. You were quick to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

The next day, after what you could only assume was a very long discussion with his wife, Gojo-sama summoned your mother back to the estate to discuss his proposal for your life going forward; thankfully you were in the room for the discussion, too. Gojo-hime had been right when she’d told you her husband wouldn’t agree to everything you’d asked for, but he had conceded to more than you had thought.

“Your child will stay here at the estate for the remainder of the bonding period, but after that they can return home with you for a while. Once their dragon is big enough to begin training under Yaga, they will live here for most of the week, but will be allowed to return home to you and your husband a day or two each week.”

“That is not acceptable,” your mother was quick to interrupt, already beginning to scowl at Satoru’s father.

“Which part specifically?” he asked, already looking a bit exasperated with the whole situation. 

“Expecting my child to live away from me most of the week for the foreseeable future. I won’t stand for it.” As stubborn as your mother was, you knew that this was one thing she would not allow Gojo-sama to deny her.

He let out a long sigh through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he asked, “What would you suggest as an alternative, then? Because it was your child’s idea to train with Yaga in the first place, and I doubt you want to deny them that opportunity any more than I do.”

Apparently a bit surprised that you were the one who had suggested training at the estate, your mother glanced at you briefly before returning her attention to the man before you. “I want them home every night for dinner and to sleep in their own bed,” she said. “They can be here during the day for training, and even for academic lessons, if that’s something they want, but they will be home to eat dinner with myself and my husband every evening, without exception, and will get to sleep in their own bed overnight.”

For a long moment – one that seemed to stretch on for hours rather than seconds – the two adults stared each other down, neither of them apparently willing to back down on the subject. The apparent stalemate they were in made you worry; what would your mother do if Gojo-sama told her no? And what would Gojo-sama do if your mother caused a scene? You were fairly certain you didn’t want to know.

Eventually, the man seemed to resign himself to the fact that this was not an argument he was willing to have, at least not right that second. “Fine,” he huffed. “They will spend their days here, and evenings at home with you.” He turned his attention to you, then continued. “Do you want to attend academic lessons with Satoru and Geto-kun?”

It rubbed you the wrong way that he didn’t refer to Suguru by his first name, even after the boy had been living in his house for nearly three years, but at the same time you were more than a little glad there was no apparent sense of familiarity between them. “…May I have some time to consider it?” you asked after a moment, hoping he would agree, because really, you didn’t know what you wanted just then. You felt your shoulders sag slightly with relief when he gave you a short nod before returning his attention to your mother.

“Once the bonding period has come to an end and the festival is over, I will see them escorted home to you. Are those terms satisfactory?”

“Festival?” you and your mother parroted together. Nothing had been said to you about a festival, so you were beyond confused.

“Yes, the festival,” Gojo-sama confirmed. “There has always been an elaborate celebration held when a metallic dragon appears and bonds with a human.”

“But nobody said anything about—” you began, but were swiftly cut off.

“And I apologize for that,” the man said, looking at you once again with his cold blue eyes. “But the whole celebration is non negotiable, I’m afraid. It is going to happen after your bonding period is over. That is final.”

His tone left no room for argument, and you felt your words of protest die in your throat. Tears burned your eyes as you nodded, whispering a small, “Yes, Gojo-sama,” as you dropped your gaze to your lap, where Takara lay curled up and sound asleep. The rest of the conversation between the two adults faded to background noise as you fought not to cry; you knew your mother would fill you in later on anything you missed or didn’t understand. 

When the two of you were finally dismissed, all you felt was relief. You kept your head down as you stood from where you’d been kneeling on the floor and followed your mother out of the room. She stopped once she heard the door shut behind the two of you, turning to face you in an instant and pulling you close, though she was careful not to crush Takara between you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you cried into your mother’s shirt, hiccuping nearly nonsensical statements about how you didn’t want to be the center of attention, didn’t want to be the reason for a festival; about how you wanted to go home and be with her and your father because you missed them.

“I know, baby. I know,” your mother soothed, rubbing your back and resting her cheek atop your head. “It’s all going to be just fine, though, I promise. Everything will be over and you’ll be back home before you even know it.”

“But it feels like so long,” you wept, words muffled by fabric since you didn’t bother to lift your head from her chest. “I feel like I’ve already been here forever.”

“It’s just a few more days though,” she assured you. “And besides, you have your friends here with you to pass the time. You’re going to be alright.”

“Do you promise?” you asked, finally peeking up from her chest. 

“Yes,” she murmured, kissing your forehead. “I promise.”

ok so, while i am in the process of learning japanese currently, i am by no means fluent, so the titles/honorifics that satoru's parents use for each other are based on some research i did! honorifics are confusing so i think i used them correctly, if not please don't skin me. also they are intentionally kind of archaic/ obsolete/overly formal, to fit with the traditions and dynamics of the family and the semi-historical setting of the fic.

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla

@dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e @witchbybirth @sugurei @peachdues 

@whatthefucksatan @gods-landing @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff

join my taglist!

[pillowspace]

Sort of a dumb hypothetical I've been spinning my wheels about, but how might have things gone differently if Moon or Eclipse was the injured god Y/N found? That'd might change some lore stuff to explain how and why, I was just thinking about it after the new chapter and meeting Eclipse and wondered what a role-swap would be like

Moon would depend on some things. Is it Sun who's banished from the Mortal Realm, or is Moon still the one banished? Let's say he is still banished. That adds an extra layer of panic, because he has ended up in the realm he's not allowed to be in with no memory of how he got there, and he's frightened that if he does go back home, he'll be severely punished or possibly even killed by the higher gods when they find out. He is filled with anxiety after he wakes up, but also...

He missed this.

He looks around the woods with familiar awe, fascinated by the Mortal Realm's wilderness.

There is an issue here though. If Moon doesn't know what realm travel object got him here, then... he doesn't know how to get back on his own. It certainly wasn't his own pendant, it doesn't work. Moon is hostile towards Y/N at first, but once he tones it down, he convinces Y/N to send a prayer out for Sun to find him. Aaand that's how you could've gotten both blorbos in only the first act.

Let's move onto Eclipse now. Eclipseee... uhhh. For reasons, being trapped in the Mortal Realm could literally kill him, so I'm going to remove a rule to make this work. He is MASSIVE, with legs as tall as you are. He is not getting in your cart, and you wouldn't be able to lift him anyway. So instead, you go home, and return with health supplies. With how ABSOLUTELY STRANGE his body is, uou're unsure if it even helps, but you try to help him right there in the woods. After that, you go into town and pay to borrow a carriage so that you can get him safe into the indoors of your shed. You unfortunately do just have to lie down blankets on the floor and lie him there, as you don't have much else to offer. When he wakes up... now this may be a shock, but he does not threaten you. Not at all. He has gone through too much at the hands of other gods to be frightened by a species he never had much respect for anyway. You are terrified by his presence, but he is grateful, and does you no harm. You know how Sun is stubbornly trying to keep the life debt just a regular debt? Yeah, Eclipse doesn't do that. He immediately seals it into a life debt, pretty much having you own him. This is BIZARRE to you, but Eclipse has been so lonely that he'll literally take company in the form of a life debt, something that any other god would be horrified by. It's honestly a little sad. You refuse to use this life debt, but that's fine. All Eclipse wants is for you to keep him, and I am unsure if he'd even want to return home. There is something important back home, which puts him at a dilemma, but... this one bit of comfort... maybe it's more worth it to stay. TLDR: something is a little wrong with Eclipse

But let's put this into the other angle. Let's put the rules back into a canon state of things. The longer he stays in the Mortal Realm, the sicker and more in agony he becomes. You have to try your hardest to find the realm travel object he used before it's too late. There comes a point where he can no longer even stand, and while you regrettably have to take a break, you mutter reassurances to him that he basks in. If you do get the object to him in time, he'll take it, hesitate, then ask if you'd like to go with him.

There is a bit of lore that contradicts with all of this by the way, so that detail's being ignored. I'm putting us in an AU

[laxibbeb]

Don’t worry, it’s truly been a week for us all. And not to flood you with asks, I just happened to have this ready at the same time as your snippet:)

I’m a fan of those Greek mythology retellings (although I haven’t finished Song of Achilles because I know how it ends and I’m scared of getting hurt). And I don’t know if you’ve ever read Gods of Jade and Shadow, but it was interesting.

Ninth House is fun, it has that mystery vibe to it while still being dark urban fantasy. Which is a genre that I don’t typically enjoy?

Also I enjoyed Too Good to be True. It was interesting trying to figure out each character’s motives throughout the book.

Have you read Priory of the Orange Tree? I loved it, but I ran into the same problem as you. I had a massive book hangover and haven’t been able to get into the second one yet 😂

I…am hesitant to tell you one of the things I’m pretentious about. I think it might give me away. I can tell you it has to do with one of my hobbies, though! For the other, I can be a bit of a snob about wine. I love a good Sauvignon Blanc. Truly immaculate. (But YES! Let’s be pretentious bitches together. That’s truly the dream. It’s also what Mor x Nesta could have been but anyway) haha maybe I’ll indulge both of us and write that someday 😊

Ooh the weaver? I see the appeal! It’s hard to pick one for ACOTAR because most of the characters are already hot. Andras, maybe? Dying for the sake of the plot? What a guy. Although I guess he’s not special in that regard, if you think about it.

I’m so sorry I just started talking😂

For non ACOTAR? I’m going to be honest I didn’t think about this either, so I’m doing the same as you. Uh, this is definitely a popular one, but that one fish from finding Nemo. Gill, I think his name is.

I can verify I am not one of the two people in the fandom who can understand that reference. Unsure if that narrows anything down for you (so I’m going to narrow it down even further and tell you I’m American)

I feel like these asks keep getting longer and longer. I don’t know what that says about us.

Anyways!

Do you have any favorite fics? They could be for any ship, honestly. I also enjoy Nessian and sometimes Feysand, and am open to other ones too.

Do you play any instruments? (I don’t think I asked this already?)

santa ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 i hope you flood me with asks, i love them

oH MY GOD i do that too, where i leave a book when i know it'll get bad 🫢 i'm scared to proceed with other books form "The Poppy War" for an example, because i have a vague idea of what will happen and i just. i just can't i've not read "Ninth House", i wanted to but not gonna lie, i'm scared i won't like it.. leigh bardugo hasn't ever done it for me before

i wanted to give something new of hers a try, though! so maybe?

"Too good to be true" is actually going on my tbr now, especially since i promised myself i'd read more thrillers (and haven't but shhh)

i HAVE read priory, (i have like, 80 pages left, but i'm GETTING TO IT so let's say i read it for a moment) it was so good! but yeah, the second one is gong to have to wait

(i would absolutely read an 800 page long, day to day account of tané's life, though)

---

OKAY, a wine snob??? that's so classy and sophisticated of you, santa (might i say - hot) i'll wait for your other pretentious thing, that's ok see! you see the mor x nesta potential for what it really is... divine and so, so sexy if you ever decide to write mor x nesta i'll owe you my firstborn, actually

---

OH MY GOD, THE ANDRAS SHADE (i wish the most important man in the acotar series had a single speaking line, not gonna lie)

okay, here's the thing - i've watched nemo one time and, stupid me i thought that was it, so i deleted all the memories i had of this movie. little did i know people would be referencing it for the rest of time i googled gill the fish from finding nemo and you know what? i GET IT. it's his slutty fin swoop

---

you know what, if you said that you recognized what i was talking about, only then would i have IMMEDIATELY known who you are

i now have 3 pieces of information that could possibly help me in figuring out your identity, and let me tell you, it doesn't narrow it down that much 🤣 so you're in the clear

---

I BRING FORTH MY FAVOURITE FANFICTION:

i cannot have a favourite fics list without mentioning @separatist-apologist, as she's the reason why i'm even in this fandom to begin with, so even though we all know this already -> take your pick and it's my favourite ever

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why by @foundress0fnothing THIS ONE IS SO MUCH FUN, and it has bi lucien; what more could you want

Springtide by @clarafae i've been really enjoying this one and i'm not done with it yet but it belongs here, ok i did not think i could like high lady of spring!elain but turns out i just needed a good fic

also, i've started A Blaze in the Dark by the famous @the-lonelybarricade and i can already tell you it belongs here as well

lately i've been reading a lot of azris, actually!

Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows by @jules-writes-stories (if you're reading this because ot the tag, jules please know i haven't forgotten about you, I'LL COME BACK) anyway, i love this one and i've been having so much fun reading it

i'm due a reread of Kerosene by @chunkypossum which is my absolute favourite and changed my life, actually

AND there are so many more but i need to finish replying to you before i turn 80 years old, unfortunately

---

i do not play an instrument :(( i used to really want to play the violin when i was a kid but when i asked my mom if i could attend music school she got war flashbacks and said she wouldn't put me through that (she also said i have no predispositions for doing music, which wow, thanks mom (she was right) 😋) so no instruments for baby laxi but i like to sing in my car when i'm driving 🤣

---

we're writing love letters to one another from across the sea and as the time passes they get progressively longer we just need to embrace it

it got to the point when i'm putting dividers whenever i change the topic to make it easier to read 🤣

as always, santa tell me your answers too, please!! and have a

[toothfa-1-ry]

["camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action"]

["who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"] -Mark Lee

GENRE: Interview format, angst, fluff(?)

PAIRING: Mark x FemReader

WARNINGS: Swear words

A/N: very very inspired by those "who was your greatest love and why" kind of reels and I might make this a series but then again I might not :>

(✧)

["okay- the camera is rolling. You can start now."

"Who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"]

Mark's eyes widen as he awkwardly begins to laugh: "Oh wow- that is a deep question"

[he continues laughing awkwardly, looking around his surroundings]

Mark scratches his neck: "um- yea my greatest love huh"

[he pauses for a while and lets out a soft sigh]

Mark says with absolute certainty before nervously laughing: "My greatest love was definitely my college girlfriend."

Mark mutters, embarrassed: "god- she might see this"

["what was her name?"]

Mark pauses for another while and lets out a small laugh thinking about her: "her name was y/n. She..she was really pretty. With the prettiest smile"

Mark gives a small nod: that's how I remember her.

["how did you guys meet?"]

Mark unscrews the water bottle as he says: we met through one of my friend in college. She was basically a friend of a friend.

Mark slowly keeps the water bottle down as he says softly: I mean that's how she met me. I had already seen her once, before in campus. I guess you could say that she had this sort of attraction to her.

["were you attracted to her? At first sight"]

Mark's laughs again: yea. I was very attracted to her. That's why my roomate introduced us, because I couldn't stop talking about her at 3 am apparently.

["what was she like?"]

"she..she was like- sorry" Mark mumbled a apology as we stopped and waited for a few minutes "She was like rest to me."

[Awkward silence]

"Oh god wow that sounded way better in my head I swear" Mark laughs again "let me explain what I meant...She was my place of comfort.

"She was the only person who I could really not try to be anything or anyone else. I didnt need to try to be special or anything, I could just be me. So yea..she was sort of my place of rest"

Mark's smile slowly fades away as he looks at his hands: "I was a music major and she well she was a history major"

he continues: "god- I remember her being really smart with these glasses which she would never wear" he shakes his head letting out a chuckle.

Mark contemplates saying something for a while:"I used to uh- overwork myself ? Back then in college before I met her I used to go even 3 days without sleeping. Was practically a zombie but after meeting her. I felt human again."

Mark looks around nervously unsure of whether to say or not: she reminded me to live...and to love. To live my life to the fullest and love to the fullest.

["when did you realise that you loved her?"]

Mark lets out a soft sigh: "uh so- well..I- this is gonna make me sound like a jerk"

Mark grimaces slightly before letting out a small laugh: I uh- actually forgot our date this one time."

[the staff gasp]

Mark quickly says: "I know..pretty shitty of me but I can explain! No I swear-"

"I was up late all night doing my assignments and I couldn't sleep not even one bit. Like- the entire night just consisted of coffee and then morning rolled up but by that time i had fast asleep. Completely gone, in snooze land, wasted but in a sleep sense and not a drunk sen-"

["let me guess. You missed the date"]

Mark grimaces: "yea..I sorta did. And i felt awful. I still do"

"anyways next thing I know I'm wide awake remembering our date, I look at the time and I'm already an hour late"

Mark laughs: "I was getting ready to meet her and there she was- she was right infront of me holding a bowl of soup in my apartment just as I was getting ready to go out and meet her"

Mark's smile turns melancholy, his eyes turn nostalgic : "there she was infront of me, not angry at me for missing our date. God- she was there worried for me"

"she was all dressed up but there she was in my apartment scolding me for not taking care of myself, scolding me for not eating well."

[staff asked "what about the date?"]

Mark begins to laugh: "that's what I asked her to. She began scolding me even more saying that my health is more important than a silky date for her. She said that any moment with me feels like date and that she didn't care of I missed the date if it means taking care of my health."

Mark suddenly grows quiet: "but I knew it did matter. Even though we spend time together it wasn't exactly a date. Not a proper one anyways. But she didn't care about that."

"yea. I guess you could say I realised I loved her that day. I realised loved her so much, and that she loves me too. So much"

["something about her that you can't forget/miss"]

"honestly.." Mark paused he looked unsure of what to say or rather if he should say it.

"everything, I miss everything."

["everything?"]

"everything." Mark repeated firmly. "From the way she talked to the way she looked at me. I really miss her scolding me to go to sleep or to eat my meals. That's why I always remind my friends to eat and sleep well yknow. That way you know someone cares."

"she cared for me" Mark smiled sadly and sighed

["what happened?"]

Mark doesn't look up, he stays quiet for a while: "I happened"

["you happened?"]

Mark remains quiet

....

...

"I always- I was always lacking. I was always insecure. I was insecure about me, us. I was afraid"

Mark lets out a soft sight as he shakes his head: "she was amazing. Absolutely perfect, and perfect people deserve other perfect people. Perfect people like her dont deserve half cracked wreck downed people like me"

Mark looks uncomfortable as he mumbles softly: "she deserved more than me. And i- deep down. Even when I asked her out, even when I ask her to be my girlfriend. Deep down I knew that she deserved more than me."

"she was like the sun. And I was like one of the 8 planet's-

Mark lets out a scoff: God who am I kidding? I wasn't even a planet... I was just a piece of rock floating near around her. I was like Pluto, miles away from her, revolving around her. I needed her warmth, I wanted her warmth. But my existence was nothing compared to hers.

["you broke up with her?"]

Mark pauses, looking down to his shoes, he fidgets uncomfortably: "yea. I did. I ended the things between us. I ended us. Because why should I stop her from meeting someone who actually deserves her ynow? Who actually is..who actually is worthy of her. Someone who isn't me"

"did I love her? Of course I did, did I ever love anyone else like I did to her? No. Never. I could never love somebody the way I loved y/n. She was my greatest love for a reason and she'll always be my greatest love"

"always"

["if you guys could get back together, if you had another chance with her, would you take it?"]

Mark is left with his thoughts, he remains quite. The entire studio remains eerily quite

"no"

["no?"]

Mark doesn't say anything again for a few minutes before showing a sad smile : "no. I won't get back together with her. If anything I'd go back into the past and make sure she never crosses roads with me."

"I caused her so much pain. I caused myself so much pain. I dont want us to feel that pain all over again. We were both young, a little too foolish, far too naive. We didn't know what was going on, and it was beautiful.. but all things beautiful also have some pain in them"

["even though you miss her? You still won't give the both of you a chance again?"]

Mark looks straight at the camera's, his eyes sad but his voice firm: "you see, she didn't deserve my love. She deserved the stars and the moon and I couldn't give her that. She deserved the sky infinite and the entire earth"

"she deserved everything. But she didn't deserve to be stuck with someone like me"

"I didn't deserve someone like her."

"so no. Even if I had the chance to get back with her I wouldn't, for the same reasons why I left her. I was lacking"

Mark looks away from the camera, he touches his hands looking at his fingers.

He finally looks up again: "and I still am. I'm still lacking for for, I'm still lacking to be worthy of her"

["okay and cut-" Well done everyone!"]

Mark claps his hands, shaking the tears that were forming at the back of his eyes.

"that was great everyone!" He laughs, complimenting the staff. Maybe by laughing and smiling he could forget everything. He could pretend that he's okay.

["hey Mark?"]

Mark looks up at one the staff as he wears his jacket: "yea?"

["thanks for sharing that story with us man"]

Mark just smiles as he picks up his water bottle, walking out of the studio.

He waves goodbye to the producer who was busy watching the footage: See you later Rennie

"see you later Mark!" The producer waves him goodbye

Mark's says goodbye to all the staff again as he left, unaware that two of the younger staff were talking about him.

["hey did you realise that he's the only one who calls our producer by her first name?"]

["Leave it Chenle..producer and him are probably friends. Just stick to reading the script properly"]

["I'm just saying Jisung....anyways. Whose the next person we're gonna shoot?"

["some guy named Huang Renjun"]

"okay! Huang Renjun? Yes? Your coming up next. Please sit here comfortably and one of our staffs will briefly explain what we're doing today" the producer ushers Renjun towards the seat in the middle as she shoots him a smile

"hey kid- brief the guy about what were doing today okay?" The producer says to one of the youngest staff members who was to say the least, very shocked but very ready

"you feeling nervous? Yea? A little? Haha don't worry"

"okay so basically we're asking a few people a question. All you have to do is answer them honestly and well yea that it's"

The young male nods as he sits down in the chair in the middle of the room full of camera's and staff. He looks around the dark grey room and flashes a smile to the camera, signalling that he was ready.

"camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action" "who was your greatest love and why did you fall in love with them?"

[beardedjoel]

I LOVE SMOTHER! I'm so sad the end is nigh, but I really appreciate you sharing this story with us. Others have said it but the characters are so well-developed which I think is frankly incredible for a story as complex as this one, where you're writing on taboo topics and balancing creating a compelling, interesting narrative that is also hot and makes us all wanna scream :) This is what I'm talking about when I'm like... fan fic is literature. I've been reading a second time and gotta say you write the internal turmoil Joel and Blossom grapple with sooooo so so well, like especially as they navigate their dynamic in the first part of the series so far. You build it up so well that this second bit of the series has unfolded so effortlessly, although I know you put a lot of work into this and it is very much appreciated! In the beginning bits where Blossom is going back and forth in her mind about her desire and sense of comfort versus fear and hatred and anger (especially in the times where Joel loses it on her, especially in penitence). And Joel just clearly feeling like a piece of shit about a lot of stuff but also wanting so badly to protect and nourish what is possible for them. I could go on forever! It is all just so well done and now with the plot ramped up I am so excited for whatever happens next. I almost want him to be willing to let her go (very begrudgingly of course) but I'm also like... would he really ever let that happen? In my mind, they are HEA and he teaches her archery and even though she becomes more experienced in the ways of the world as time passes, she is still always his little innocent little princess 🥺P.S. I also truly do not mean this is an annoying disrespectful GIVE US MORE CONTENT way because I know it is terrible when people do that to authors and you truly have given us so much, but wanted to echo that what the one anon suggested about a one shot where Joel takes care of Blossom while she is sick fucked up my whole brain because we all know you writing Joel taking care of his girl makes our hearts stop in general, so him doing it when she is sick... like Joel gently cooling her down with a towel if she has a fever (but inevitably heating her up again 😏) , making sure she has the comfiest pair of PJs, playing with her hair or rubbing her back and not caring if he gets sick too... I CANNOT. I'm just glad someone put it in my head because it will be in my day dreams lmao😱 Thank you again for everything!

oh my god HI

literally how the heck am i supposed to respond when i'm literally still speechless at you taking the time to send me this! honestly, just thank you so much for loving joel and blossom and their story that i'm telling 😭 i think upon reflection you saying how the beginning was so tumultuous and kind of unsure that them finally finding their stride together really came at the right time. like you said, in a way it came about naturally and effortlessly to me as the storyteller cause it just made sense for things to progress like that in my mind!

and i do love the idea of joel being willing to let her go, it's kind of so tragically sad it eats at me in that angsty writer way haha. he may grapple with that some in the wake of what's happening right now, but like you said in the end that man would not be down to do that like AT ALL.

the one shot idea honestly is so cute. i've rolled it around in my mind, and if enough ever sticks so that i'm like yeah i could write a whole one shot around enough ideas for it to be fun to read for you all, i'll do it! i do plan to write one shots for them in the future as i'm inspired to so it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility! 🤍

anyways!!! thank you again so much. i'm always down to yap about smother anytime.

[levihanskid]

asking the hashiras to braid their hair for the first time part 2

- you're the newest hashira and you try to befriend everyone by asking the hashiras to braid their hair ft: giyuu, sanemi, tengen cw: just (platonic) fluff a/n: so sorry it took time i was busy the past week ;-; also thanks for the love on part 1 i hope you enjoy this one too! <3

part 1

Giyuu

"why do you want to braid my hair"

guy doesn't admit it but he's giggling and kicking from happiness on the inside

he's glad when you said the reason why you want to braid his hair was to befriend him

cause that doesn't happen often

he's very awkward and nervous about it

he'd sit upright and stiff like a bonsai

dude relax i won't cut your hair at least not today

his hair may look spiky but it's actually not that bad, it's got some tangles but soft

you'll try to talk to him but his response are so short and found it hard answering some questions

you figured it's just because he's shy and introverted to you decide to just ask him yes or no questions

he appreciated that you understood how he felt and the way you respect him by skipping to another topic when he does want to answer a question

after the braiding session he asked you one question that surprised you a bit

"what's your favorite food?"

confused, but you answer him anyway

out of all questions he could ask why did he choose to ask you that

"so we could get along"

he said that in a tiny voice and immediately left without looking

you found that very endearing and thought that it might be his way of befriending someone

next time you met, he definitely brought you your favorite food

he'd stand in front of you with the food almost shoved into your face and he's like "here 🧍🏻‍♂️"

Sanemi

‌"why tf would i let you braid my hair?"

‌would decline you for weeks but you still persist on doing it

‌after some time he'd finally give in telling you how you're so stubborn and annoying

‌but deep inside it's because he's kinda jealous of how you get along with the others

‌he doesn't like the fact that after every hashira meeting, everyone would go home with braided hair except for him (ik their meetings are like twice a year but ignore that)

‌you cannot tell me this guy doesnt use gel to keep his hair spiky

‌at first you were unsure if you'd comb his hair bcs he might get mad but he'd notice your hesitation and would hand it to you himself

‌surprisingly patient

‌he'd sit there with his palm resting on his chin

‌but if you try and start a conversation he'll go "shut up and finish what you're doing"

ok 🧍🏻

so you two sit there in awkward silence (at least for you it was)

some minutes passed, you notice a dog approach sanemi

where did that dog come from

you asked him if it was his, he answered you (to your surprise) and said it wasn't and he just feeds it whenever he can

you leg out an "aww that's cute" and dude got flustered

"sHUT UP! ARE YOU DONE YET? I'M LEAVING"

no you were not. you were just about to tie it

so you tried to pull him back down

but you yanked his hair a bit harder than it should be which caused him to fall butt first

"i am so dead" you thought to yourself

you quickly tied his braided hair and he marched off with steam coming out of his ear

expect him trying to get back to you the next time you meet

Tengen

‌"i'd like to believe i've got the best hair among all the hashiras. so you may braid my hair. but be sure to make it flashy!"

‌y'all know how steve harrington from stranger things have a secret hairspray for his hair? tengen has something like that as well.

‌his hair is have so much volume and soft and bouncy

‌he's such a narcissist tho

‌like the guy's god complex is huuuuge

thinks you're doing this as a service because he's some kind of god

‌he'd talk about his flashy lifestyle, how he takes care of his hair, his skin, how he's got three wives, everything

‌"you've got three wives?!"

‌not that he doesn't seem to be the type to have more than one spouse, it's just the first time you met someone like that

‌he would boast about them and talk about how pretty, sexy, and flamboyantly skilled fighters they all are

‌would constantly ask "are you done yet?" not because he's impatient but bcs he's excited to see what you did

‌like sIR CAN YOU NOT RUSH

is the type to use a mirror to look at how you're doing with his hair

after minutes you finally finished braiding

guy was so amazed he asked you to be his official hairstylist

"yOU SHOULD BE MY PERSONAL HAIRSTYLIST! KEEP MY HAIR LOOKING FLASHY ALL THE TIME"

he told you that he'll introduce you to his wives so you could braid their hairs too

so he did. literally the next day he invited you to his place

the girls were so nice to you and told you how much they liked tengen's hair when he went home

suma immediately asked you to do her hair

the four of you ended up forming a circle braiding each other's hair

‌

[skarsgardwise]

Why do you love me? - "The Scare" - Rafe Cameron Series

Chapter two is here! Enjoy. Please understand that I am a college student and the chapters are short!

btw, this series is a slowish burn between the reader and Rafe

warnings?: A tiny TINY bit of angst, swearing!!

Anyways, happy reading and comment on your ideas for this series:)

my love,

skarsgardwise

"Stop it, dude. You're destroying my puzzle!" You squeak out, swatting at JJ's grasping hands for the puzzle pieces. "It doesn't seem right!" "It appears to have been hit by a car," JJ responds. You froze at his remark and slowly turned to face him. JJ's eyes squint at you, unsure of what you're going to do next. 

"You're the one who appears to have been hit by a car!" You stand up and bite back, getting close to JJ's face. Your remark causes his eyes to widen and his mouth to gape open. "Did you-" he tries to respond, but you quickly respond.

 "I did say it! You, pufferfish!"

JJ was at a loss for words. Your remark completely stunned him. Does he really resemble a pufferfish? His mouth was still agape. "JJ, you might want to close your mouth before the flies start coming in," another deep voice says, slapping JJ on the back. "By the way, nice comeback y/n," he continues. 

"Thank you very much, John B!" You bow down and salute him, smirking at him. "The show is over, people! Come back the next time!" You added to it. 

JJ slowly turns around and walks toward the mirror in the corner of John B's room. He examines his face and hair. The realization dawns on him quickly. "Oh my god," he exhales. He quickly spins around to face you and John B. "I do look like a pufferfish!" he exclaims as he falls to his knees.  

You and John B both roll your eyes at each other. "How come we're best friends with him?" you wonder. "Do not ask me; ask yourself. "You first became friends with him," he responds to your question. You scoff at his response and hit on JB's shins. He collapses to the ground, groaning in agony. Trying to rub the pain away to make it go away. "What the fuck!" he exclaims. 

That is correct. You did first become best friends with JJ. Yall practically grew up and lived together. You both had bad parents and relied on each other. Then JB entered the picture, and you've been the trio ever since.

“Y/n! You need to start treating my knees with respect; they don't deserve this." JB squeaks out, groaning in agony. You sighed and rolled your eyes. Men are always dramatic, regardless of the situation... "Look at me, JB," you demanded, your face solemn. He looks up, perplexed by what you're doing.

"Do you see my face? "Do I look like I'm giving a fuck?" you ask calmly. He sighs and lowers his gaze to the ground. "No..." he says.

“Exactly. Get up, pussies. We've got work to do!" You clap your hands, grab your belongings, and leave the house. JJ and JB exchange a look, their lips pursed. "Is it possible that she is using drugs?" JB inquires JJ, who looks at him as if he is stupid.

"Are you insane? No!”

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

You arrived at the beach to spend time with Kie and Pope. You got out of twinkie, shut the doors, and went to the back of the car to get some stuff for later. JB swings open the back door, almost hitting you in the face.

 “Aye! "Watch out, bastard!" you yell at JB. "It's okay princess," JJ says as he stifles a laugh. His hand rubbing your back. "Oh, quiet down, you little bitch!" You snap back, your gaze fixed on him. He laughs at your retort.

"You're really feisty today!"

You sigh, ignoring his remark. JJ smirked to himself when he saw you upset. He grabs both of your hips and lifts you off the ground, slinging you over his shoulder as he sprints to the water. You squeak in response to the sudden movement.

“JJ! I swear to fucking God, don't throw me in the water!" You threaten him by slamming your fists into his back. He laughs at your comment. He was getting closer to the water. He threw you into the water as soon as he arrived.

You were quickly submerged when you felt the cold water touch you. You could feel your anxiety rising quickly, and you felt like you couldn't swim back up. It was awful; you couldn't feel anything. Then you noticed your eyes closing.

You were suddenly pulled up by frantic hands gripping your waist. You gasp for air because there is no water around you. You blinked quickly as you opened your eyes. Your gaze met JJ's, who was holding your cheeks and looking around to make sure you weren't hurt. You could see the panic in his eyes as he looked for any indication that you were okay.

"JJ," you said quietly. He didn't hear you because he was too focused on his thoughts. He felt like a jerk after what he did to you. You have a firm grip on his wrist. "JJ!" you yell at him. He finally fixes his gaze on you.

"I'm fine," you say quietly, afraid that saying anything louder will scare him away. You gradually relax your grip on his wrist. He exhales loudly, relieved that you were not hurt. "I can't lose you now," he said, bringing his forehead to yours. "Never, ever."

[khaire-traveler]

Hi, there! First of anything, I hope you had a wonderful day!

I have a question that could be kinda personal so please, feel free to not answer if you do not wish to. The main reason I'm asking you this is because you're one of my current fav blogs.

Could you share us how did you started to post here? And what made you take the decision to share your thoughts and experiences?

I've been wanting to start a blog about my practice lately, but I'm so scared of doing things wrong in the aspect of being disrespectful due to lack of information.

Thank you so much in advance! ✨

Hey, Nonny!

I don't mind the questions at all! I'm glad to hear you like my blog. c:

This response is a bit long, so I'm going to add "read more".

I forget how long ago I started this blog, but I believe it's been at least one year now? It may be two, but I'm unsure. I had a blog before this one that posted similar content. It wasn't as "popular", and at the time when I ran that other blog, I was healing through a lot of trauma. I deleted that blog due to some unsavory people I had met there; it just became too overwhelming at that time.

After about a year and a half, I created this blog. I missed having a community to talk to about my religion, even if no one really interacted with me. No one in my life, at that time, followed my religion, and if they did, they didn't worship any of the same gods. I wanted to have others to talk to that I could share my love for the gods with. I wanted to share some lessons I had learned, too. I felt a lot more ready to run a blog about my religion. It felt safer to do so, and I was much more confident in my practice than I had been. My relationships with my gods had grown, and so had I. Finally, my dear companion, @broomsick , inspired me to create this blog and rejoin Tumblr.

I was actually very hesitant to share my experiences again at the start. On my first blog, some people had weaponized my experiences against me and fueled some major anxiety issues I had at the time. So on this blog, I was very careful with what I shared. Frankly, I still am, but I'm much more open to sharing things I've experienced than I was.

My advice to you is to keep some things sacred and hold them close to your heart. It makes those experiences all the more special when you don't feel pressured to share them with others. My next advice is to start by sharing your random thoughts about your gods and experiences. It might sound silly, but over time, I've found that people enjoy hearing what others have to say. Many things I've posted here have grown alongside my real-life practice. Even now, I'll sometimes come across an older post of mine and see my progress. It's very encouraging when you're able to look back at how far you've come. Another piece of advice I have for you is to post for yourself, not for others. Make sure what you're posting are things you genuinely enjoy sharing, things that you actually want to post. Never feel pressured to post things you don't want to post simply because someone else requests it.

The most important advice of all that I have is for you to do it, and do it scared. It makes you nervous? Go for it anyway. You'll never know what it'll be like until you try. Taking risks is a difficult thing to do, but you could have so many wonderful experiences if you choose to take them, and even though this is just Tumblr, there's no telling what kind of connections and discoveries you could make by creating that blog! If you're new, that's great! Share what you're learning as you learn it, and as I mentioned above, you can look back and see how far you've come in the future and feel proud of it. I don't think it's disrespectful to share your thoughts and experiences, even if you realize you were wrong later on. Your practice will grow as you become more and more comfortable with it, and it's only natural that we say things now that we disagree with later. When we grow, we change, and so do our beliefs.

I say to give it a try and see if you enjoy posting! If not, you can always change your mind. It doesn't have to be a permanent decision.

I hope this answered your questions well. I also hope that the advice I shared is helpful to you. Take care, Nonny, and may you have fun on your new adventure, wherever it takes you! 🧡

[pain-is-too-tired]

Am I the only one who's kinda getting bored of the "haha Percy is blonde like Will, the you're not my type scene is gonna be so funny" or whatever?

Specifically because Walker looks nothing like how I imagine Will?

Like yeah, he's blonde. But not the blonde I see for Will? It's a darker tone. Plus He does not have lanky cat stretched out in sun vibes sorry y'all

That, and Nico never specified he meant looks when he said Percy wasn't his type.

Cause if we compare Will and Percy they're different in a lot of ways.

Will's a healer, Percy's a fighter.

Will is described as laid back and appearing a lot more harmless then he really is. Why Percy is constantly being described as frightening and even godlike. He's a whole storm why Will's a cat stretched out in the sun.

Both are stubborn,but Will is a lot better holding in his more extreme emotions. It takes a lot more for him to be loud when going back and forth with someone. He can sound annoyed but he hardly ever sounds angry.

That and Will can calm down others like Clarisse, why Percy ends up matching them in attitude at some point.

Like I said, Percy's a fighter which often leads to impatience as usually in a fight its so quickly placed. You have to strike first before your enemy gets you. His adhd is a lot more hyperactive.

Will on the other hand has to balance patience and speed. Rushing can be dangerous, but you also can't be too slow or else chances of your patient dieing grows. It applies to how he interacts with others too.

And I honestly think that might be why Nico clicked more to Will. Will just has more patience to get through to him. He gets upset but he keeps his cool. Literally,iirc, they were in LITERAL HELL before they had their first true out right fight.

Idk why it urks me so much now. It was funny at first but it feels it's been beaten to the ground.

I think a lot it is also I feel Will is way too often chopped down to Nico's "hot therapist boyfriend". That y'all literally think of Percy was blonde that's all was needed to be Nico's type again. Like that's all that makes Will his type.

Heck, think about the fact Percy hardly ever defenseless. If he doesn't have his sword he has his powers.

Nico's thoughts on Will why he was literally going on about him in boo is that despite his harmless figure. Despite being a healer and not a fighter. Will rushes in to battle, even volunteering to scout on a enemy right after DELEVERING A BABY AT 14.

I think Nico found Will a lot more welcoming because Percy is just too much like him in some ways.

Sure, they can outsmart opponents, they're not dumb or completely dependent on their weapons and abilities. But without them they're a bit more unsure of their next moves. We see that Nico,despite being on the verge of dieing, still instinctively relies on his abilities. Though we don't see a similar case with Percy, his abilities is what makes him great enough to go toe to toe with literally gods. Nico's connect to death related abilities radiating from him was enough to scare back monsters.

Both need someone who isn't as use to being able to depend on weapons or godly powers strong enough to topple armies. They need someone to keep them grounded.

It's why Will and Annabeth click so well with their respective boyfriends. Annabeth constantly coming up with plans, she has only really her wits and a small blade to get her the upper hand. AND SHE DOES SO. I'm sure if Percy was in a situation where he couldn't use any of his abilities and either without his sword or couldn't depend on it as well, she would easily think of a plan and keep him from over doing it.

Will,like Annabeth, doesn't have the same powerful aura that his boyfriend does that keeps others literally backing away.

But he still managed to walk past Gemini without being stopped. I refuse to believe that he can't handle himself in battle like TSATS tried to say.

Anyway, really excited to see baby Will in the show in a few years fhdh

[sparring-spirals]

uhoh empire sib meta time.

Courtesy of that last rb by @iinfernal thinking very hard (very affectionately) about love in the form of, we are going to work to keep each other on track. Especially with Caleb and Beau. Because like. its not just about newfound acceptance, people who will give you the benefit of the doubt and help you improve, people who see your worst and love you anyway, people who will forgive you.

Like its about that! But its also about- i trust you to drag me back if i stray. i trust you to call me out, to push back. i am putting my back to you- you will protect it, and you will also pull me back if i wander.

The first big backstory reveal between Beau and Caleb was an exchange, not a kindness. it was, tell me why you are afraid of fire, and ill get you into the library. Caleb laid out some of the corners of his guilty conscience, to Nott, with all of her faith in him, (he is my boy), to Beau, with her skepticism and brusque curiosity, and it was not meant as a soft gesture. It was not a call for forgiveness, or absolution- it was an item for barter, a warning, an admission of guilt.

and Beau- still unsure, still rough around the edges and rude and defensive and angry, shell-shocked and out of her depth did not provide forgiveness, or kindness. She said something along the lines of- good god, you know thats fucked up, right? i didnt ask for this, what the fuck.

She said something like: you know what you need to do now, then, right? prevent this guy from hurting more people. This is what you've gotta do now, I think- this is what we'll do-

And Caleb gets into the library, and casts haste on Beau in a bar fight, and there is something to be said about love shaped like a willingness to disagree, to push back, to say things wrong but try to say it anyway.

Caleb, and Beau, arguing. Beau is suspicious and Caleb is ready to run, and "the problem with friends is you have to care about them". Running into old injuries and boundaries, working to learn them, to fight to communicate. Apologies that are awkward but sincere. Kindness that is misshappen but intentional.

Caleb and Beau, butting heads, poking fun, trusting the other person to be suspicious of them, when it really counts.

"Can we keep each other straight?"

Some fifty episodes apart: have faith in us, just a little bit? dont run.

follow your own advice. don't go.

Caleb, vision and hearing gone and flung out ahead, placing a hand on Beau's shoulder. Lead me well, lead me straight, bring me back if I stray. Caleb and Beau, going in circles about what to do as the world ends, ambition and magic and time and guilt, and entities at war. Worried about evil, about going wrong, needing the clear vision of someone who loves you and will not eternally forgive you.

"I'm worried I am exactly what he said I was."

"Not yet."

God just. Love as keeping each other on track. Beau and Caleb, as the only ones to get the eyes, afflicted by searching too hard for knowledge. what a horror, to have you and your tether tossed into an unknown spiral. what a comfort- if it was any of them, at least it was both. The Mighty Nein, making contingency plans, Yasha sticking close to caleb and cooing over his animal forms and ready, ready, for the worst. What a nightmare. Thank god. "Im glad it was us."

"You drove me insane."

"I hated you. You sucked."

What love. What immense care. Years on in, and it all still comes back to:

"You got my back?"

"What's the play, Beauregard?"

[aaaaaaaaaaaa-hey-its-jude-or-bee]

i honestly love the petals name. But because you call us requesters ‘pollen’ and ‘honey’ idk if we should be called the bees.. (as in we help get you working/writing?) or the petals.. (as in we're the roots of what you write maybe? No idea ehe)

tbh; just stick to whatever you like the most!! Tho I like being called a petal for my personal opinion

-🫚anon

I was talking to @cupiddoves about this a while ago and I'm still unsure of what to call you guys atp but I'm imagining I'm talking to myself while everyone thinks I'm crazy, as you guys are like helping me and then each post makes you all in like a body until the post request is done and you become bees/petals)whatever again and the characters have no memory of it whatsoever but remembers it very faintly (edit That DOES NOT make sense to me but like ok so they remember not all of it but it's like, when you hear a name or something like that you get nostalgic feelings about it)

Anyways teeehee😁

(please god help m-)

Make sure to read my tags ...... BC I add words to them as well ☹️ (unless your Sirius/cupiddoves... Then don't rea-)

🫚 anon you can send more asks if you want I'm still writing the first bits I don't care how many you send I'll get them done whenever i am done with the first(I WRITE A LOT.....) I don't mind whatever you send, I already know your preference, you don't like angst and I understand that👍🏼👍🏼

[opalcicle]

If They Call Me a Slut, You Know it Might be Worth it for Once

Ch. 8 Afterparty (Bizly Again) - Smut and Angst

Mentions of nausea in this Chapter

---------

I am significantly tipsy by the time it's approaching 1 am. After a night of hands all over me, kissing Tina, and taking shots, I'm a little desperate to get her alone. I'm still angry about what Bizly said. Angry that Charlie couldn't even stand to be in the same room as me.

We're outside sharing a cigarette and I lean towards her to ask, "What are your plans after this?"

"I'm crashing at my friend's tonight," she responds sweetly. Possibly a little oblivious to my oncoming request, she asks, "what about you?"

"I was wondering if you want come back to my place instead," I say, taking a slow drag after the question leaves my lips.

Her smile falters, "I- I don't think so, not tonight, we're drunk, and my friends-"

I squeeze her hand as she starts to talk, and making sure my tone is kind, I cut her off, "No need to explain, I don't mind," Her face lifts again and I can't help but giggle at her. "You're smile is so damn cute,"

"Thanks," she says bashfully.

"I'm going to call it a night though, do you want me to help you find your friends before I get an Uber?"

"No thats okay!" she responds, pulling away from me towards the doors. She bounces back after a step, kissing me on the cheek, "Tonight was so much fun, we should do this again,"

I smile back at her, I can't help it, "I'd like that,"

Before I can blink twice she's back in the club and I look out into the night. Well fuck. I think to myself while taking another drag. I should feel disappointed but for some reason I'm not. I finish my smoke and open my phone. It's probably for the best if I can't get my mind off of Biz and Charlie. I wasn't sure if the boys were still inside. I was equally unsure if Bizly was serious about his offer to have me over. I light another cigarette and open my dms with Biz. I stare at it for a several moments before reluctantly closing it. I had to have at least a little bit of self pride, right? Finishing my smoke I open the Uber app as I hear the noisy club behind me, the doors open.

"Hey!"

I don't think it could be someone talking to me but I look back anyways, and there he is. Bizly. He's looking right at me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"Saw your girl head back inside," he says as he steps up beside me, cracking a mischievous grin. "Does that mean it's my lucky night?"

My stomache flips over, drunken nausea airing it's head. I place a hand over my abdomen and lean forward, steadying myself and catching my breath.

The doors open behind us again and Bizly takes a quick glance back. "You alright?"

"Just dizzy. I need something to eat," I mutter.

"I've got a big pot of pasta in the slow cooker," he offers.

Ulterior motives aside, he's always got something good to eat. There's a reason we smoke at his place. Ulterior motives noted, I'm so god damn horny I could scream.

"Tempting," I say, straightening out and looking down at the Uber app.

He's still watching the door, "Well, the boys are gonna be out here in a few, I'm calling a ride. Text me if you're coming,"

I take a moment to look at his face, his lips, and then down to his hands. "Sure," is all I say, before stepping away and slipping around the side of the building. I continue to stare at the app, deciding on my destination, and hear the commotion of the other three leaving the bar.

"Yeah man, Uber's only like a minute away," I hear Bizly's loud voice. I'm sure the volume of it is for my benefit.

I wait for them to go and then put his address in my app. What's stopping me? I ask myself. Charlie. Is the immediate reply my brain shouts at me.

"Fuck," I say outloud, rubbing my temples. I press the button to call the ride and close the app.

When I slip into the back of the car I message Bizly.

Better have that bowl of pasta ready

Two bowls ready

He replies quickly, sending me an image of a packed bong.

Hell yeah MFer

When I get to his house and the driver pulls away I wait outside for an unreasonable amount of time. I look up at the night sky and and take several long, deep breaths. The light in the garage is on and I make my way over, quietly stepping inside.

Bizly's in his spot, bowl of pasta in his face, the slow cooker brought out and sat on the coffee table. There's an empty bowl and fork waiting for me.

"Hey!" I call in, as I close the door, "how's the pasta?"

"Hey!" He calls back, mouth full, "So fuckin' good,"

I slide into the couch beside him and look up at the cartoons playing on the old tv. Last time I was here it was between him and Charlie. That was the night they both hand their hands on me. The night Bizly had started to cover me in hickies. Excitement sparks in my chest.

"Here you gotta try this," Bizly said, lifting the lid of the slow cooker. Steam escapes as I grab my bowl and serve myself a helping. It smells delicious.

I eat beside Bizly. When he finishes he put his arm around me on the back of the couch. After I set mine down he picks up the bong.

"That feels better," I say, rubbing my stomach.

"Fuck yeah, dude" he says before taking a rip.

"You make the best food, man," I say, relaxing back into the couch as he passes me the lighter. After I take a big rip and hand it back, then lean my head back into the old fabric.

"Thanks," he grins.

We pass it back and fourth a few times before he finally sets it down and his arm ends up behind my head again.

"You look good tonight," he says, shifting closer. He tucks my hair behind my ear.

I smile and lean into him, placing a hand on his chest. Neither of us want to waste time. His arm slides down around me, pulling me up to his face. Our lips meet, sloppy and fast. My hand quickly finds its way around his neck. We're a tangled mess of arms as we try to get closer without breaking our faces from eachother. Eventually I climb onto his lap, straddling him. My skirt crawls upward as I bite into his bottom lip. His hands can't find one place to rest, making their way up my back and down my sides. When I break away from the kiss to breath, his face presses down into my chest and I feel his teeth brush over my skin. I whine and slide my hand up into his hair, pulling his face in farther. There's a muffled moan from between my tits. I tip my head back as his hands try to find their way under my tight top.

"It's- here, you gotta-" I say, pulling at the ribbon on the front. I get myself out of the corsette and place it on the coffee table behind us.

His hands on my back pull me towards him and his face finds my breasts again. I place both hands on his shoulders and grip into his shirt as he runs his tounge over a nipple.

"Uhhn!!" I moan out, and he looks back up at me. I pull myself back to his face, my fists balling up in his shirt, and kiss him firmly on the mouth, pressing my tounge between his lips as he cups my breasts.

"Fuuuuck," I tip my head back to groan out when he teases my nipples.

His face finds my neck and he starts to bite in, but pulls back. Instead he places a kiss and runs his tounge up to my jaw. I whimper as he flicks it away. I yank at his shirt and he sits up so I can pull it over his head.

"Fuck, Bizly, I need you so bad," I groan as he continues to kiss my skin. Sliding back on his legs, I reach down to undo his belt. He takes over and quickly pulls out his cock. My mouth hangs open, I still can't get over how thick he is. While I watch him slowly stroking, he reaches over the arm of the couch and grabs a bottle of lube. Ah, he was ready for this, I smile to myself. He tips it over and I watch as he coats his cock in the thick liquid. After he's done he slide his hands up between my legs, pulling roughly at my panties. I hear a ripping and lift my skirt to look. He's torn them right open.

"Holy fuck," my voice is whiney, desire apparent.

I look up to see a grin and feel two fingers press right into me. He curls them up to find the right spot and I groan in pleasure. He pumps his fingers fast, stopping occasionally to part them and open me up. His movements are quick and frustrated, like he just wants to fuck me already. I have to admit I feel the same. I pull his arm away and slide up his legs again, hovering myself to he can line his dick up to my entrance. I feel a hand on my outer thigh pulling me downwards and oblige, lowering myself slowly until I feel him starting to press in. I groan outloud, eyes shut tight as he enters me. I forgot how much he stretches me out. My legs are weak and I slip down too fast. I scream loudly, sunken into his lap, his dick skewering me.

"Ohhh fuck!" He yells out with me, gripping my ass hard.

Neither of us move for a moment, the sensation almost too much to bear. Then I feel him thrust ever so slightly, testing the waters. My legs are shaking and I whimper out as I shift weight back to my knees on either side of him. His cock throbs inside of me and his hips rock slightly. Each tiny movement feels enormous and I take a moment to get comfortable with the sensation. My shaky hands slide over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. I steady myself, raising my body as high as I can before dropping back onto him, letting his cock impale me again.

Eyes closed tightly, he yells again. His hands react instantly by pulling me down. It's a clumsy fuck, and it hurts, but it's too good to stop. We're a chorus of loud moans and whines. I have to release one hand from his hair and grab his shoulder to keep balance. My nails dig in and he gets louder.

He lets me ride him like this for a little longer, until neither of us can stand the agonizingly slow pace. "Stand up," he directs.

I whimper as he helps me off of his cock. He slides his pants to his feet and motions for me to turn around. I oblige, looking over my shoulder at him as his eyes and find my butt.

"I could never get enough of this," he growls the words out as his hands press into my skin. He leans back into the couch and pulls me to stand between his legs. "Sit on it, babe,"

I try not to rush, but desperately need his cock in me again. I groan out in pain as I hastily lower onto him, sinking down as he groans into my shoulder.

"Ohhh fuuuuuck, Bizly!" I shout into the garage as he grabs my hips and pulls me down fast.

He easily moves me, pulling me down onto his cock over and over. My head leans back against him.

"God, you feel so. Fucking. Good.," he grunts as he lets go of me and I fall fast.

I try to lift myself to keep going but I can't. He rotates his hips from below me and I cry out. His hands lift me up only to drop me again. I'm stuck in place, unable to get any footing as my platforms scrape the floor. He lifts me again and I wait for the drop, but instead he pumps up into me, hard. Hovering me above him like I weigh nothing, he fucks into me fast. Being used like this starts to push me over the edge, and the waves pass over me fast. Mere seconds pass before I scream his name, cumming on his lap as my body shakes. He doesn't stop until I ask him to in a sharp whimper. Bizly settles back on the couch, letting me down to his lap with our bodies still connected.

I lean back against him, resting against his chest and lifting an arm up to brush my fingertips against his face. Both of us are breathing heavy. Eventually he helps me off of his cock to cuddle up beside him.

"God, I think about this all the fucking time," Bizly murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of longing.

"Sex?" I question.

"You, you fucking smart ass," he replies, laughing and pushing at my shoulder. "I think about fucking you. About your mouth, your body, -about you moaning my name."

I look up at him with a cocky grin, "God damn, Bizly the poet,"

"Shut the fuck up," he teases, laughing harder.

We giggle together like a couple of dumb stoners until I start to think about what he said. It was hot.

"Oh fuck, do you really just spend all day just thinking about fucking me?" The laughter isn't gone, but bubbles up between words instead.

The groan in my ear sends a shiver up my spine. Damn, his voice really gets me going. "God, you don't even fuckin know," Bizly starts to trace his fingers up and down my skin.

"Dude, that tickles," I squirm, the giggles starting up again.

Teeth brush over my shoulder, lips finding sensitive skin to kiss. "I want-" he murmurs, nipping at my neck.

"Oh man I'm so texting you dirty things when I know you're busy now," I let a sly smile creep over my lips. I tip my head away, making more of my neck visible. The last marks he'd left had almost faded and I'd really just started to like them.

"Oh no, don't do that," his sarcastic, mock protest is followed by another kiss on skin.

A gasps escapes my lips everytime Bizly barely bites into me, until I'm whining at the lack of hickies he's leaving.

"You like that?," he whispers between kisses.

"I'd like-," a shiver in my spine makes me stop to gasp, "-like you to leave me new bruises, Biz," my playfulness has been replaced by building desire.

He moans softly at my request, dragging teeth again, "Are you sure? You know we have a mutual friend who might not like that,"

Like a knife is pushing through a lung, my breath leaves me in a huff. He pulls his face away. Anger burns in my neck under the places his teeth touched, crawling up into my face.

"Kinda besides the point if you're trying to turn me on again," I half-heartedly tease, turning to look up at him.

There's an undeniable flash of guilt in his expression, and seeing it turns my stomach. We both sit there for a moment, just looking towards eachother.

"Look, he didn't have to- it's not my fault if-" I start forming excuses, good reasons for being here right now inspite of how Charlie feels. Nothing I try to say feels right in my mouth.

"Look, I've been dying to get my teeth in you all night, but..." He trails off, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm not with him," I defend our drunken hookup. "He doesn't own me,"

"I shouldn't have brought it up," Bizly goes to move away.

I quickly place my hand on the side of his face, turning it back. He waits while I shift my body to face him fully. Sitting on my knees I lean up to the other side of his face, pulling his head towards my lips.

"Bizly, I want you," I whisper, "I want to know when you're thinking of me, when- oh fuck do you touch yourself thinking about me?" I glide my hand into his hair, playing with strands of it as I speak.

"Mm-yeah," he murmurs.

I press my bare chest against him and let the words drip from my mouth with a syrupy sweetness, "I really want you to tell me how you imagine me. Please Bizly?" I stretch his name out into a whimper and I feel his body tense below me.

"Just like this," he growls back at me. I feel his firm hand on my ass, tightly holding one cheek.

I moan approvingly, grazing his ear with my lips as I kiss his neck, letting teeth press in. "Do you ever look at pictures of me?" I ask with a smile in my words and a breath almost caught in my throat.

"That question feels like a trap," Bizly grins back. I think he's enjoying my questions.

"Let's see," I turn towards the table to find my phone. I open my Instagram account, holding the phone so we can both see, I let him take it from me. "Which ones?"

He gives me a look, eyebrow up. "For real?"

I smile, slowly trailing my hand out of his hair, down to his face. I rub his cheek, brushing his stubble with the print of my thumb. Watching my hand move down to his chest, I lean in to kiss him. He is nice to touch. Something about having a man under my hands always felt so good. I allow myself to just enjoy my fingers traveling down his torso slowly. His body reacts to my touch. The kiss only breaks when we need to catch our breath.

"I really want to know," my coy smile returns, "what it looks like when you're thinking of me," as I speak I slide my fingers over his erection. I love the throbbing sensation in my hand.

His hips instinctively react and he bucks his cock through my grasp. "F-fuck," he moans.

My hand pulls away and my attention turns back to my phone. I feel him grabbing at my arm. He looks absolutely desperate.

"Show me what you look at when you want to fuck me," I trail my hand back up to his chest then take the phone back from him.

I feel Bizly sitting there stunned for a moment and glance over to see an awkward grin on his face. I slowly scroll through my own Instagram, the screen directed towards us both.

"This one?" I ask, stopping at a bikini pic from last month at the beach. Bizly was there that day, I remember smoking a joint with him between cars in the parking lot.

"Uhh..." He glances down at my tits, then back at my phone. His hand presses into my soft skin, taking a breast and squishing it against me. His other arm holds me steady, "Gotta admit, I've thought about that bikini more than once,"

"I wish you would have told me sooner. If we'd been alone at the beach, or we'd snuck off after that joint..." I pose the scenario, trying to get him to play along, to dirty talk for me.

"Where would we sneak off to?" He asks, continuing to press and rub at my breast.

"Hmmm," I close my eyes and imagine that day. Wondering if Bizly'd had his eyes on me when I wasn't looking. "Into one of the cars? Who drove that day?"

"I went with Griz," he murmurs as he leans down to kiss my chest, pressing his face into my cleavage.

"Mmmf-" this was turning me on too fast, "so, you get me alone in the back seat of Grizzly's SUV. We're stoned, and I'm giggling, and we pretend like we're just back here to be high out of the sun,"

"Can I tell that you want me?" He questions.

"Roll an insight check," I tease, and he looks back up at me to roll his eyes. "I'm joking, I'm- you have your arm around me, and I've got my head leaned on it. I'm laughing at something you said. You definately see me check you out, I think I'm being sneaky about it, but fuck you look good with your shift off,"

"Hmmm, I pretend like I'm going to whisper something funny so you'll lean in close. Then I-" he demonstrates, kissing me with a slow passion that catches my off guard.

"So," I catch my breath before continuing, "any others?" I go to scroll through my phone again and he places his hand over mine.

"How about you show me what you like to look at when you're home alone and horny,"

"Okay," I say, opening our dms. "Here," I show him the photo he'd sent me last weekend, his cock under grey sweats, obviously hard.

"Aw c'mon for real," he teases.

I sit back down on the couch, face reddening as I decide the least embarassing thing to show him. Bizly's hand traces over my thighs, and I lay back, draping my legs over his. The tickle of his fingers getting close to my center gets me going just enough to push through the embarrassment.

"Wh-what do you want to see?" My voice trembles as he carefully spreads my legs. I'm browsing Bizly's instagram but the dude mostly posts goofy shit.

His fingers move up to my wet core and tease back and forth. "Anything you get off to, babe," Bizly grins. "God, you're fucking wet," His fingers pull away and I see how slick they are.

"Fuck, Bizly," I murmur his name, closing my eyes, as he presses his fingers back between my legs, slipping just barely inside of me. I close my eyes for a moment, whimpering until he drags his hand back down my leg and I groan.

"God, my name sounds so good in your mouth," he murmurs at me.

"Make me cum again and I'll show you what's good in my mouth," the words leave my mouth and he slips me back on the couch. Moving to hover over me, spreading my legs to either side of him, he pushes his fingers inside me. I drop my phone.

"Dirty girl," he smirks as his hand picks up pace.

I grab at him, running hands over his chest, gripping his shoulders, and trying to pull him closer to my face. He obliges with another grin and I pull him down into a kiss. Before he can pull away, I trace my fingers over the end of his cock and feel it twitch. His breath catches and it sounds divine. He slams his fingers into me fast and I whine, his wrist working to create a steady, increasing rhythm. As my breathy whimpers become open- mouth moans Bizly leans down to run his tounge over my clit.

"Bizly, Bizly, biz- I'm going to-" I cut my self off as his mouth wraps around my clit and his fingers flick fast inside my hole. My body jolts as I cum hard, "Bizlyyy!" I yell, intentionally dragging out his name.

He groans between my thighs as they press in on either side of his head. Pulling his fingers out as I release his head, he lifts back up over me and licks them clean.

"Damn you're so hot," are the first words I say as the orgasm passes.

"Let's go inside," his eyes travel up my body, "I don't think you want to be on your knees out here,"