#black is losing so bad and im dying

[awesome-cookies-and-cream]

Tags as per @mossterious

Oh Lawrence and Benitez being switchable at first glance is genius actually considering their opinions on being pope. But yeah queens stay on the same color square as them.

Tedesco being Queen and Tremblay being King is genius actually as Tremblay did pull the strings with simony and the deal with Adeyemi + Tedesco being the bigger and powerful threat as are queens in chess. (Also lmfao??? They didn't even castle? Was the queen in such a defensive it ended up there??? I can't even see the black rooks but black is at least a piece or two down lmfaooo)

Anyway good for you even without knowing chess. (Usually terrible pawns are those that aren't connected because they're easy to capture but connected, they can be difficult to break and limits your mobility. They're like the nuns! In a basic pov white's position is actually pretty good save for the undeveloped bishop at the back. Meanwhile Black is nawt playing good. How did u end up like that??? Double pawns on the f file, no center pawns, a white pawn on d6, an undeveloped Knight. AND the funniest thing is if Tremblay is the king, he didn't even care he's under attack. Black, get your shit together ahsjsksks)

Finally finished my Conclave art.

[hyewka]

I just read your public vibrator gyu. GOOD LORD I NEED A TYUN ONE, but like in the car where the both of you were supposed to go on a late night drive and every time the stop lights go red, the vibrator goes into its highest setting this goes on until poor little tyunnie is sobbing and needs to fucked dumb in the car PLS PLS PLS I NEED IT I NEED IT SO BAD I take one look at tyun and my brain immediately goes "I need to fuck him"

im obsessed with usually composed subs that get bratty when you start to push and push, taehyuns perfect for that lol

idk why but him specifically in work business attire, tie perfectly adjusted, black framed glasses propped up as he stirs the wheel with one hand is sooo attractive but whats even more attractive is getting him to lose his shit when hes not supposed to. i know this isnt exactly what you asked but i think an enemies with a fuck buddy situation going on would be sooo hot here, so easy to get him agitated

he shifts in his seat like it’s nothing when you turn it up a notch. “really?” he scoffs incredulously, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “you’re gonna try that again?”

you twirl the lollipop between your fingers, not even looking at him. “focus on the road, taehyun,” you say, sounding almost bored.

he barely reacts. barely. but you catch it from your peripheral vision-- the way his jaw clenches, how his fingers grip the steering wheel just a little too tight. he’s pretending—he always pretends like he can handle it, like he’s composed, but you know better.

first red light. you turn it up, and he immediately jolts in his seat, biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood. “s-stop… i’m trying to drive—are you insane?!” he grits.

“and doing such a good job of it,” you chuckle, leaning over to trace a finger along the line of his tie. "i'm just dying to know how long you’ll last like this.”

“fuck off,” he growls, but the effect is ruined when his hips jolt as you poke at his crotch. the gasp that escapes his lips is so sudden, so embarrassing, you can’t help but grin.

“what was that?” you tease, poking him again, watching his body spasm. “can’t handle it, can you? poor tyunnie.”

it's pissing you off slightly that taehyun's still holding onto that facade, eyes focused straight ahead like he’s actually going to make it through this. he's making this tougher than your patience allows.

the light turns green, and he slams on the gas a little too hard, jerking the car forward. you snort, watching his legs tremble under the strain. “you look so pathetic. can’t even keep it together on a simple drive. how’d you even get your promotion acting like this?”

“s-shut up—” he tries to snap back, but he's barely holding it together. you hate admitting it, but he's so god damn attractive it drives you up a wall. he keeps adjusting his tie and his eyes keep glancing around the road. he’s a mess, glasses slipping down his infuriatingly perfect nose and all.

next red light. you crank it up again. taehyun’s head drops back against the seat, his chest heaving, hips bucking helplessly as he lets out a low, broken moan. “shit—please, stop, i c-can’t—”

then, as if giving in to the desperate haze clouding his mind, his hand shoots down, fingers fumbling at the waistband of his slacks like he’s going to jerk himself off right there.

before he can even start, you smack his hand away, hard and fast, making him gasp and look at you with wide, desperate eyes.

“bad, bad boy,” you chide. “don't you dare touch yourself, keep your hand on the wheel.”

he stares at you, incredulous, his breathing heavy, but he’s too wrecked to come up with a response.

you tug on his tie, pulling it tight against his throat. "bite down."

taehyun surprisingly doesn’t hesitate, sinking his teeth into the tie, his moans muffled as he tries to grind down into the seat, his hips moving on their own.

when he starts driving again, your finger circles his crotch, enjoying the taste of the artificial sweet cherry flavor on your tongue (and of course, how loud he's shamelessly being). “you act like a brat at work because you like being put in your place outside of it, right? no wonder you’ve been such a pain lately. guess this is what you’ve been wanting all along.”

he chokes on his own breath, a strangled noise escaping him, his cheeks flushing red. spit starts to drip down his chin, wetting the tie he’s biting down on. you roll your eyes. "disgusting."

third red light. you turn the vibrator to its highest setting. his body jerks violently, a sob ripping from his throat as he slams the brakes, forehead resting against the wheel. “no, no, fuck, fuck—i c-can’t—”

you reach over and slide your hand down, palming the hard length of his cock through his pants, feeling the wet spot where he’s already leaking. “so fucking wet for me,” you murmur, your fingers pressing into him, making his hips jolt. “you’re such a fucking mess.”

he’s sobbing now, still biting on his tie, completely ruined, tears streaming down his cheeks as he begs, practically shaking in his seat.

you just smirk, watching him unravel. “poor thing,” you coo, leaning closer to his ear. “so desperate to cum, but you don’t deserve it, do you? look at you, sobbing like a little bitch.”

“plthse,” he slurs through the fabric, the words barely audible, muffled and wet. “i’ll b-be good—just lemme cum, plthse—i can’t take it anymore.”

you press harder against his cock, feeling him throb under your palm. “you’re not cumming until i say so,” you whisper, your hand sliding down to cup his balls through his pants, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. taehyun’s hips jerk up, chasing your hand like a dog in heat. “but keep begging. i like it when you beg."

[mythalism]

Watching a video of the "fight Solas" ending and I find myself really disliking the fact that Rook declares that the Veil must be tied to the life of an elven god. It is treated like a fitting punishment for Solas, and even in the redemption ending, Rook all but orders Solas to sacrifice himself to maintain the Veil (or the status quo). I also can't help but feel that Solas, the last of the elven gods, is being sacrificed to maintain the Veil that he, alone, is somehow expected to magically maintain, allowing everyone else to go on their merry way. The implication here is that the elves are losing the last of their history, or pantheon, and this is a GOOD thing, and now we can all move forward and live peacefully. Am I overthinking this? 'Cause if this was the intention it does sound kind of bad.

yeah. i do agree and i dont think you're overthinking. and even if you were, im about to overthink way harder so don't worry. forgive me for getting on my legal philosophy soapbox but thats my whole brand at this point so here we go: it is a very retributive view of punishment and desert (deserved-ness) that i morally disagree with and feels outdated in the political landscape of 2024 to me PERSONALLY!! the foundation of retributive justice is:

(1) that those who commit certain kinds of wrongful acts, paradigmatically serious crimes, morally deserve to suffer a proportionate punishment; (2) that it is intrinsically morally good—good without reference to any other goods that might arise—if some legitimate punisher gives them the punishment they deserve;

obviously this is how much of the western world conceives of punishment and western media is consequently saturated with narratives that espouse this. most of the time, restorative justice is seen as mutually exclusive with retributive justice, though there are some people who say they can be used in tandem. i disagree anyway.

i think solas's endings grapple with these ideas in a way that is... messy. its confusing because we dont actually know if he is truly imprisoned, in the sense that he cannot leave. we know he is in A prison, though its unclear whether its the new regret prison that rook was in, or the black city (epler refused to clarify this during the AMA because of "spoilers", while trick said the implication is he is "going back to the prison", the epilogue slides imply he is in the black/golden city, as does his quest to heal the blight which only exists in the black city). we also do not know what capacity he has to leave. with lavellan or after being "redeemed" by willingly binding himself to the veil, he does not have the lyrium dagger but he does have the capacity to free himself from his regrets (if hes in the regret prison) or heal the blight (if he's in the black city), exemplified by his golden epilogue slides. if he is tricked or fought, he is not in a mental space to overcome his regrets and does not swear to atone by healing the blight, but he does have the lyrium dagger with him, so we can assume he can just use it to leave, the way we literally see him do earlier in the game lol. whatever message they are trying to send with his "punishment", i think it is muddied by the vagueness of what actually happens to him in the end and where he goes.

if the message truly is that he "deserves" to be imprisoned in the fade for his long list of crimes, i find that lazy and nonsensical. first of all, he loves the fade and has been dying to return to it so thats not really a gotcha, but more importantly, which crime warrants this punishment? and is his punishment proportional? this is impossible to answer because we do not know what the punishment truly is. we also dont really even know what crime he's being imprisoned for. taking down the veil? he didnt actually get to do that. are we punishing him for something he didn't do yet? is it for killing varric? sure, i guess that one works. its the strongest of the options we have, but the game is also pretty clear that its not what varric would want. what about all of the other people he has killed? the spirits he sacrifced in that siege on elgar'nans temple? the mages who summoned and corrupted wisdom which he incinerates alive? flemythal and felassan? do they deserve retribution via solas's imprisonment? would they want that? would they find it just and satisfying? the game does not ask these questions. so we dont know. does he deserve to be imprisoned for for what he did to the titans? ok, maybe. this is stronger than the others at least. but in the trick/fight endings he doesnt vow to heal the blight, so what does his imprisonment do for the dwarves and the titans spirits? this is what i mean when i say his imprisonment is retributive, but it is not even thoroughly retributive. it does not think deeply about what solas deserves for his crimes and the proportionality of such a punishment, but it is clear that we are supposed to that he deserves to be in prison, it is morally good that he is receiving "justice", and rook is a hero for imprisoning him. his punishment is presented as a moral good because he deserves it. unfortunately for veilguard, i dont think i would ever be convinced by this message in any narrative anywhere, even if it was better written, because this is not a moral philosophy that i subscribe to.

his redemption endings feel so much better and more satisfying because his vow to use his immortality and knowledge to heal the blight that he created is restorative and has a direct correlation to his crime of creating the blight by tranquilizing the titans in the first place. his imprisonment achieves nothing outside of removing him as a "threat", which is ruined by the fact that he has the dagger and can just leave lol. devoting the next significant portion of his life to alleviating the titans suffering is not just reparative remedy that directly affects the people and creatures he has harmed, it also actively makes the world of thedas a better place. to be clear, im not saying solas is innocent. he is guilty. of a lot of things. he bears responsibility for a lot of things. he would qualify as a war criminal. but i do not believe in retributive justice. veilguard having solas kill varric because trespasser made me sympathize with him "too much" is not going to make me believe in retributive justice. for the non-atonement imprisonment endings to feel satisfying you have to subscribe to this ideology of moral desert and punishment and a lot of people do. the entire american carceral system is founded on it. so is christianity. and bioware clearly subscribes to it as well. you might disagree with me and subscribe to it yourself. thats fine. but i believe it has caused a lot of harm to our world and continues to do so. seeing it manifested in media is always disappointing to me.

regardless of the technicalities of his imprisonment, his binding to the veil is the one thing that happens regardless of his ending, and i agree that it is icky for similar reasons. the veil is his responsibility, as is the blight which he will be keeping contained with his life, so i guess you can interpret it as proportional? but again, what crime is he paying for with binding his life to the veil? is he not paying for a crime at all? is binding his life to the veil even part of his punishment? or is it just something he has to do because he's the only person alive that can do it? if that is the case, that it has to be him because he is the only proper sacrifice, and not that he deserves it, then what does it say about rook that they sacrifice someone undeserving? if he is deserving, why exactly? if he wasn't the only elven god left alive, would he still be deserving of such a fate? if the answer is no, then he does not deserve to be bound. what gives rook the right to make this call? based on the convo they have before the ending where they plan to bind him to the veil, its not clear if rook binds him because they think he deserves to be bound to one of his greatest regrets, or because he's quite literally the only option. either way, i think there is an argument for it being cruel, and unearned coming from someone like rook, who really has barely been a victim of solas's sins outside of a 2 week time-out. literally harding binding him would've been far more satisfying. or imagine if fragment mythal went rogue and did it, or morrigythal did. mythal would not be justified either but at least it would be fucking banger and evil and interesting of her. anyway.

i think your point about what it means for the elves to lose their final living god, outside of mythal who is [redacted] ? is a fantastic point. through solas's binding, they also lose the veil-less future he represented that was promised to be a better world for them. would it really have been? probably not. solas clearly thinks so. but we will never know lol. the failure of the story to grapple with the dissolution of the elves entire belief system is one of its most egregious ones, and i think this is a symptom of it. dragon age's elven lore got itself into a weird spot by veilguard and i think they just abandoned it rather than attempting to write themselves out of it. i love stories that grapple with the average person's culpability as complacent in imperialism. this is part of why fullmetal alchemist is my fav story of all time and you should watch it (fullmetal alchemist:brotherhood on hulu please im begging. but you have to watch the "brotherhood" one not the other one. its complicated dont ask). veilguard seemed to want to do something like this, but they got themselves into weird spot with the elves because their evil, slavery-based empire is a thing of the distant past, and in the present they are systemically oppressed and have no social or political power.

usually in these sorts of stories, someone currently living in an imperialist society who is directly benefiting from that imperialism is confronted with their complacency and asked to rise to the occasion of standing up for what is right, despite their material best interest. they often sacrifice their privilege as a benefactor of imperialism in the present to attempt to make up for the evils that system has inflicted on others. fmab does a wonderful job of this. there is at once both an acknowledgement that no, this is not literally YOUR FAULT, you did not order a genocide or press the nuke button, but you have benefited from it and/or participated every day of your life, whether that is through the stolen land you live on, the fact that you have never seen war in your home country, the way you can buy whatever fruit you want at the grocery store any time of year, or the way your tax dollars fund the bombs being dropped on children thousands of miles away, and you do have a moral obligation to do whatever you can to fight back. i believe this is a very important lesson for the average american (and canadian since we are talking about bioware), and anyone that lives in an imperialist country, that a lot of people have not yet learned ... lol.

this feels along the lines of what veilguard was going for (or maybe they werent and this was accidental, idk which is worse), but it fails because the elves are not currently benefiting from their past empire, like at all. actually, they live in squalor and at risk of constant violence from human empires. they have experienced centuries of genocide, violence and slavery at this point in modern thedas. the imperialistic success of the elvhen empire has absolutely no bearing on their current lives, it provides them with no privilege, and it gives them no culpability in its evils. they are thousands of years removed from it. and its not like "oh the british empire was dissolved 50 years ago so imperialism is over" no. because britain's wealth and power are a direct result of that imperialism, thus they do still benefit from it presently, even if the "official empire" is dissolved. this is true for most empires. but with the elves of thedas, they have none of the power or privilege that the elvhen empire accrued through its evils. if anything, it is tevinter that benefits most from the lost elven empire considering how much of their society is founded on its technology, and the fact that. you know. they are currently, modernly, presently an empire based on slavery. OF ELVES. so why, then, does veilguard present the elves as culpable? why does the angry titan harding creature say they are "thriving" at the titans expense? why does bellara take personal responsibility for the evils that elgar'nan and ghilan'nain commit when she had nothing to do with them? the messaging with this is so strange. it would make sense if elves were still the ruling class but... they're not. the only remnants of the empire that they have access to is their own bodies... which are systemically, bought, sold, and mutilated. though the game does erase much of the racism they face in what i can only assume was an attempt to make this work.

the combo of this + solas's trick/fight endings for what is fundamentally, according to this game itself, a desire for a better world for elves and spirits, no matter if it is misled or his methods are violent, is a depressing, bleak message that i find to be irresponsible to be sending in 2024 and considering the real world groups of people that elves are based on, most notably of the dalish as indigenous north americans. veilguard sees elves lose not just their understanding of their past, dissolving their entire worldview, their conception of their cultural identity, and their relationship to their religion, all without sufficient (or any) exploration of how devastating such a process would be, but by imprisoning solas, erasing his followers and supporters from existence, and binding him to the veil, it also robs them of the possibility of a more just future... while asking you to cheer because he deserved it. dont try to make the world a better place unless you do it the right way. work with the world as it is. your attachment to the past (when you werent being genocided regularly) is a disease. you deserve to go to jail because you tried to change the world in a way that that was too disruptive. get over it! move on! rot in jail!

[norikuna]

GOO GOO MUCK #3 — jujutsu kaisen x reader choose a storybook to open. aka my mythos take on jujutsu kaisen.

you've turned the page to: CHAPTER III. RYŌMEN SUKUNA go back to the table of contents.

as if he heard me, he smiled. and his face was like the sun. (the song of achilles / madeline miller)

prologue. → at first, a humble servant, now capturing the attention of the king of curses. suddenly, you're caught between fear, desire, and a really irritating demon with a bad attitude.

excerpt.. one of the guards’ brows lifted, as if you’d said something unexpected. the other, still doubtful, scowled. "and what would you know of sukuna's laws?" you privately thought sukuna's laws would be quite simple. if it moves, beat it with a stick. if it moves again, let's grab a sword and hit it twice as hard.

pairing. demon king!ryomen sukuna x villager!reader (sfw but suggestive!)

song inspiration. goo goo muck — the cramps / i can see you — taylor swift

warnings. sukuna is very much himself, rude and dubious and evil. kissing, making out, mentions of blood and injuries and war. word count. 4.6k!

a/n. im actually so happy w this one lol i was having a bit of a giggle writing it. consistent plot? what is that?

ask/comment/dm to be added to a taglist 🩵

mp3. when the sun goes down, and the moon comes up, i turn into a teenage goo goo muck!

they had bound your wrists with iron chains, biting into your skin and doing little to still the tremor of fear that seized you. the villagers around, or at least what remained of them after sukuna's merciless invasion, shuffled forward in exhausted silence, carrying that eerie pall of defeat. you dared not look at the faces of your people around you, sensing that each set of eyes held the same mute dread that coursed through your veins.

and sukuna's fortress was an ugly, wicked thing. no doubt a testament to his dominion and dark prowess. but one could only avert their gaze from the jagged black stone that tore through the depths of the earth, and iron maw of a gate that glistened with dark stains that you dare not name.

a tall and severe figure stood waiting beyond the threshold, tall and severe, draped in robes of silky onyx that swept against dead leaves. a member of sukuna's household, no doubt, and he had eyes of dying embers.

it seemed that everything in this estate was dead, or dying. you could only hope that you would not join the pile of skulls that clattered in rough-strewn piles on the pavement.

"you all belong to the king of curses now," he intoned in a voice of polished steel, "you will serve him with unwavering obedience, and if you do not..." the man trailed off, splayed his fingers against his neck — and he suddenly bared his jugular upwards and your stomach lurched at the sight. lines and rows of stitches, sickly healed, where one's throat might have been cut. a walking corpse.

"act rightly, or lose your head. he has little patience for insolence or error."

and so, you were led through winding halls, walls of dark stone and low-hanging torches. the air was thick with a strange, almost metallic scent of thick blood and burning coals.

at length, you passed a vast and open chamber, a throne room that was unlike any you could have ever imagined. granted, you came from a small village, and thus, had not seen a throne room before so the bar was already quite low.

massive pillars framed the space, rising up like trees, branching and curling towards a ceiling lost in shadows. gathered around the centre was a council of some sort, hulking and dark curses of varying forms, from towering demons with sharp, ridged spines — to giant warriors with dented armour, from the scourge of warfare.

and at the heart of them, seated upon an iron throne wreathed in dark filigree, and dazzling red stones, was sukuna himself. the king of curses. he was massive, even in respose, broad shoulders and four thick arms that were drapes across the arms of the throne. you weren't quite sure where to rest your eyes, on his shock of dusty-rose hair, or the sharp set of eyes that were the colour of dried, old blood.

you felt a shiver of terror crawl down your spine, before curling at the base in loving tendrils, freezing your limbs in place. and then, with a heart-stopping clarity (though none would believe you), his gaze seemed to fall upon you. for a single, unbearable moment, you were certain he was looking directly inti your soul, with a gaze as sharp as a blade and as hot as a forge. you felt every muscle in your body clench, a sharp ache spreading through you.

but just as quickly, you were shoved forward, and his gaze fell elsewhere — almost bored. the rest of the newly enslaved muttered and murmured nervously as they led you onwards, down yet another corridor.

devilry and villainy aside, sukuna needed to hire a new interior design team. because this many corridors and needless, steep stairs were just unacceptable.

still, you felt those eyes burning in your memory, like four brands seared into your mind and the hollow of your chest.

they finally ushered you into a small chamber, little more than an alcove carved out of stone and lined with rows of rough, wooden pallets and blankets as coarse as burlap. here, you were instructed to remain until summoned to serve, the harsh whispers of the overseers reminding you to act “rightly, obediently, silently,” words that had already begun to feel like a new set of shackles.

and so, life in the palace of the king of curses was like treading on eggshells, and you had learned early on (after losing the contents of your stomach several times, watching brutal executions) that to speak out, or draw attention was a risk. one that could end with chains, or worse.

yet today, as you walked the winding corridors, a commotion caught your ear, and you had slung your basket on one hip — peering around the corner. you had turned to see katsuro, gentle and quiet, being held roughly by two guards, his slight frame no match for the iron grip of their clawed hands. one of the guards was sneering down at him, his expression gleefully cruel. poor katsuro was only two winters younger than you, and hardly built for the life of a warrior, rather a sweet and shy scholar.

"you made a mistake, little human," one guard hissed, his fangs bared in a twisted grin that would do his reflection in the mirror no favours at all, "sukuna demands perfection, and you will learn the price of failure."

katsuro's face had gone pale, his dark eyes wide with fear and you could see his hands trembling, most likely mirroring your own at the moment. it was not fair, the 'mistake' had been minor, a missed steps in the protocol for cleaning the great hall for the evening's feast. you were certain that sukuna was too busy terrorising the weak and bathing in blood to notice that the wrong number of lanterns had been strung up.

driven by something reckless within you, you stepped forward before you could think better of it.

"wait!" your voice rang out, catching the guard’s attention. their eyes fixed on you, surprised at the audacity, and your heart pounded in your chest.

they were probably excited that instead of one human to torture, they would get two.

but you stood firm, lifting your chin to meet their gaze, ignoring how your gut was working overtime to make you nauseous. "punishing him so harshly for a minor mistake — would that truly serve sukuna's purpose?"

the first guard narrowed his eyes at you. "and who are you to question his purpose?"

"i am not questioning it,” you tried to reply smoothly, carefully choosing your words like your life depended on it (because it did), “but rather, i’m considering it from his perspective. the king of curses values loyalty and productivity in his subjects, doesn’t he?"

you didn't quite appreciate how the guards were rolling their eyes in your one moment of courage, you just couldn't have anything around here.

"if the servants are in constant terror of the slightest mistake, they won’t be able to perform their duties effectively. fear is powerful, yes — but so is loyalty. if they feel a measure of mercy, they may serve him more willingly, rather than cowering with each step."

one of the guards’ brows lifted, as if you’d said something unexpected. the other, still doubtful, scowled. "and what would you know of sukuna's laws?"

you privately thought sukuna's laws would be quite simple. if it moves, beat it with a stick. if it moves again, let's grab a sword and hit it twice as hard.

"a great deal, actually,” you replied with a steady gaze, but with a lie basically dancing on your tongue. "every decision is weighed, every outcome calculated. a punishment too severe for a minor fault? it's…," you tried not to say stupid, "...wasteful. if katsuro is punished to the point of uselessness, that is one less pair of hands, and the workload falls heavier on the rest of us." you dared a glance around, noting a few other servants lingering, listening with furtive, hopeful expressions. "wouldn’t it be better to maintain strength among his servants? for his grander plans?"

frankly, you were just pulling words out of thin air. making things up and lying to such an extent that your mother would grab a bar of bitter soap and wash your mouth out. still, one had to be an opportunist to survive.

the guard holding katsuro faltered slightly, glancing at his companion. It was clear they weren’t accustomed to reasoning, and though they looked unimpressed, they were not entirely unmoved.

"fine," the taller guard growled, loosening his grip on katsuro with a snarl. "this one’s lucky you spoke for him. but if he slips up again, no clever words will save him."

with a final warning glare, the guards stalked off, leaving katsuro visibly shaken but unharmed. relief flooded you, and you could suddenly breathe again, and you moved to steady him, as his eyes glistening with gratitude.

"thank you," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

had you turned around and paid more attention to the shadows, you may have noticed the king of curses standing with all four arms crossed, biting the inside of his cheek. he never liked those guards anyway.

the morning air had been crisp, a rare light filtering through the stone walls of the estate as you were woken by unexpected news. you were...summoned? not to some distant hall or remote chamber of, but to the throne room — sukuna's command. the message itself was terse, and impossible to interpret, but you had been wrapped in a cloak and ushered out the door.

and there you stood, among three other summoned servants. each one pale and quiet with apprehensions as you gathered at the base of the throne's towering dias.

sukuna sat sprawled across his throne, two arms flat and still against the arms of the throne, and the other two holding his head up — as if this was the most boring task in the world. but his eyes, all four of them, scanned you and the others with a look of dull interest, and he almost seemed to sigh, rolling his eyes in open exasperation.

"so," he began, and his voice was a low and raspy tone, "you four are my new...personal attendants?" the king of curses leaned back, half-amused and half-irritated.

you felt a prickle of irritation beneath your skin at his obvious disdain, it was not like any of you had been gunning for the job anyway. but you held your tongue, reminding yourself that it was better to stay silent than risk having your sliced and pickled head served on a bloody platter for sukuna's morning snack. still, he noticed your reaction, his lips quirking into a slight smirk as he arched a brow.

"something to say, little servant?" and sukuna's tone dripped with mockery, as though he were daring you to speak.

"not at all, my lord," you replied, managing to keep your voice steady. "merely… adjusting to the honour of being here."

sukuna snorted, barely containing his amusement. "honour," he repeated, as if the word were a joke. "tell me, did they threaten you to get you here on time, or did you simply decide to be obedient today?"

you did not like this bad attitude, but frankly, you lacked three major things when it came to battling sukuna. an immortal soul, an array of weapons, and a spine. so you tamped it down, a faint, thin smile tugging at your lips. "i would have come either way, my lord. threats or no threats."

you would swear that his eyes glinted with a mix of surprise and interest, though he rolled his eyes again as if unimpressed. "spare me the heroics," he muttered. "i need obedience, not gallantry." he looked you over with a critical eye, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. "and i have no use for someone who can’t keep up."

"what a shame that would be for me," you replied, the retort was sharp on your tongue before you could stop yourself. and you felt your heart coil up in fear once more, while you were certain your brain was chasing your tongue around with hammers.

sukuna's gaze narrowed, and a faint, fanged smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "careful, servant. i don’t particularly like attitude from those under me."

you dipped your head, averting your gaze just enough to keep from meeting his eyes directly, you didn't want to lose your lunch. "noted, my lord. i’ll be sure to remember that…if it pleases you."

for a moment, he merely looked at you, his expression inscrutable. then he let out a low chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver through you, something dangerous and thrilling laced in its depths. "very well, then,” he said at last, sounding almost amused. "if you’re so eager to please, you’ll start by attending me closely — very closely. i do like being pleased."

how crass.

you swallowed, catching his faint smirk as he dismissed you all with with a lazy wave of one lower hand, but not before he smiled at you. a cruel and wicked curve of his mouth, but it felt like the heat of a thousand suns. whatever game this was, he intended to play it with you — on his terms.

over the next following weeks, sukuna's summons became frequent and baffling, his demands were a tangle of trivial tasks and strange whims. he seemed to relish keeping you guessing, testing the limits of both your patience and your compliance.

he would call for you in the mornings to help arrange his robes — an affair in which you found yourself having to climb onto a small wooden box to even reach his shoulders, carefully smoothing the crimson and black fabric over the width of his frame. with his arms stretching out from every side, you had to manoeuvre and balance each fold with precise care. and sukuna just watched you intently, an amused smirk tugging at his red-wine lips as you struggled, muttering instructions that barely felt necessary.

yes, you knew how to tie a simple knot.

in the evenings, he’d request you make him tea — a task simple enough, but then he’d take his time to drink it. each sip was drawn out, his gaze occasionally sliding over to meet yours, one brow arched ever so slightly, a smug satisfaction radiating from his silence. he would take another long, slow sip, before turning back to the window, as you shifted your weight from foot to foot, wondering if it was acceptable to launch boiling water at the king of curses. just as a treat.

and then you had been summoned to his chambers to polish a set of blades that had seen their fair share of battles, surely the one that took the lives of your own village, and you shuddered. the blades were heavy, each one forged with a dark, tempered steel that seemed to drink in the dim candlelight. as you worked, your hand slipped, and the edge of one blade sliced through your skin, leaving a sharp, stinging pain and a line of red across your palm. you hissed under your breath, pressing the wound to your tunic as the blood quickly seeped through your fingers.

"stupid," came his voice from behind you, sharp and cold as steel itself. you turned to see sukuna watching, leaning against the doorway with an expression hovering between annoyance and satisfaction, as though your injury were just another way you’d managed to disappoint him, and now he could unleash his tongue upon you. "are you intent on making a mess of my things, or are you simply that clumsy?"

you opened your mouth to retort, a spark of irritation flaring, but bit it back, too exhausted to argue. "it’s just a scratch, my lord," you replied, though the blood was beginning to drip onto the rich furs sprawled across the floor. you quickly wrapped your hand in your sleeve to hide it, hoping to avoid further scorn.

but sukuna must have seen. he let out a low sigh, crossing the room in a few slow strides, and took hold of your wrist, and surprisingly, without a grip that would snap your bones. for a moment, he simply stared down at the cut, his four eyes narrowing with something that looked suspiciously like...regret.

"how ridiculous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, and with a curt wave, he pulled out a cloth from under the blades. but his hands were large, and searing with heat, as they held yours with a shocking deftness as he bandaged the cut.

you dared a glance up at sukuna, only to find his expression unreadable, his gaze focused intently on the task at hand. when he finally spoke, his voice had lost its usual harshness, his tone quiet, almost distant.

"try not to stain the rest of my furs with your carelessness next time," he said, though the words lacked their usual bite.

you wondered if it had finally happened, he'd really lost his mind. there had been no threats of disemboweling, no burning, no being trampled under horses while he ate peaches in the shade of his favourite tree (yes, his threats were that specific).

you murmured a huffed response, more of a mumble, suddenly feeling quite stifled. but sukuna's hands lingered on yours for just a moment longer than necessary, his gaze distant yet searching, as though seeing something he hadn’t expected. then the king of curses drew back, the walls you’d glimpsed in that moment quickly slamming back into place as he straightened, stepping away with a curt nod.

“just go, get some rest before you inconvenience me more," he muttered, barely looking at you now, his tone cool and dismissive. but for the first time, it seemed as though he were hiding something, something even he didn’t quite know how to name.

the air in sukuna's quarters was thick with the scent of burnt incense and faintly lingering smoke, a reminder of the battles he waged just hours ago. as you moved quietly about the room, collecting and folding the strewn garments, you glanced at him, sullen and seated on the edge of his bed. a dark, odious blood was seeping through the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso, three jagged wounds crossing his chest and back where the arrows had pierced. though the arrows were long removed, the gashes looked raw and angry, staining the linen with every breath he took.

sukuna noticed your stare, and with a small, reluctant grunt, he beckoned you over. "the bandages…" he muttered, voice heavy with fatigue but his tone demanding. "fix them, redress them. i don't need another healer bumbling over it."

you swallowed, nerves prickling as you gathered fresh cloth and approached him. you so hated wounds, and the sight of blood but it was better than seeing your own spilled for defying him. sukuna remained still, watching you through half-lidded red eyes, his body larger than life, his skin faintly gleaming in the dim light. but he leaned forward slightly, allowing you to reach the wound. with slow, careful hands, you unwrapped the old bandage, then pressed the clean cloth to his skin, feeling the solid warmth radiate from his chest, searing your fingertips with its intensity.

as you worked, wrapping the bandage around his vast, muscular torso, you did your best not to breathe, not with each breath of his matching the rise and fall of your own. and you tried to ignore how his eyes were flickering over you with an intensity that made your heart stammer.

when you finished, the king of curses didn’t move. instead, he brought his hand up, fingers grazing your chin as he tilted your face to meet his. and the pads of his fingers dug into the skin of your jaw.

"tell me…" he began, his voice low, each word a slow murmur. "do you see me as a monster?"

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the words were lost to you. his hand remained firm on your chin, holding you in place as you searched his face — the high cheekbones, the strong jaw, each line and scar a mark of the warrior he was, of the warlord who had taken everything from you. you closed your eyes briefly, feeling the ghosts of flames from your village flicker in your memory.

"it’s… hard to forget what you did," you replied, your voice a whisper, yet steady. "it’s hard to forget that you burned down my village."

a flicker of something — anger, resignation — crossed his face. sukuna let out a long, quiet exhale, a shadow of bitterness touching his voice as he said, "a tiger cannot change its stripes. being a beast is in my nature. i am what i was made to be. you cannot expect elsewise from me, nor would i try to promise it to you."

you held his gaze, your heart beating harder. "i know that now."

his thumb brushed softly against your jaw, lingering. there was something dark and magnetic in his gaze, a glint of restrained hunger that sent a thrill through you, a pulse of awareness that you were crossing an invisible line. maybe someone had hit you on the head, messing with your cognitive awareness. he leaned forward, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin as his two sets eyes dipped to your lips.

for one heart-stopping moment, you felt his mouth ghost near yours, a feather-light touch as though testing, hesitating. the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only him, and his dangerous restraint.

but then, he drew back, jaw set as he tore his gaze away, his hand dropping from your face as though burned. he said nothing, his expression now closed, guarded, as if he, too, was reeling from whatever had just passed between you. you took a shaky step back, pulse racing, not daring to break the silence as you quickly left the room, with some false excuse of disposing of the old bandages (you were going to ask someone else to do it for you).

sukuna's attention had grown increasingly overt, his dark gaze trailing you with a possessive weight whenever you entered the throne room or crossed his path in the vast, torch-lit corridors of his palace. whispers fluttered among the other servants, the concubines, and the court. it was impossible (and almost embarrassing) to ignore the quiet looks and questioning glances they cast your way.

still, a demon could never be expected to be patient forever, and he had sought you out, appearing in the corridor as you were preparing to leave his chambers. his large hand moved to your waist in a firm, claiming gesture, pulling you to him without hesitation, as though he was unbothered by the curious stares around him. you briefly wondered at how just one arm could snap your spine in half, but his touch was almost...fragile.

"you’ve intrigued me," he murmured, his eyes blood-red, glinting as they locked onto yours. "in a way no other has. why do you deny this?" his tone was brusque, but you would have lied if you had said you did not find satisfaction in the way his voice had a snapping plea buried in it.

but sukuna's cruelty was an undeniable part of him; every scar he bore and every command he uttered reminded you of the power he wielded and the danger that simmered just beneath his surface, one that could ravish nations and empire-states. anger, fear, attraction — they were tangled so tightly together you could scarcely tell them apart.

"am i meant to be flattered?"

sukuna chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that resonated through you. "so i am a monster, am i not?" he murmured, his tone almost teasing, yet a sharp intensity flared in his eyes. he leaned close, his face inches from yours, his voice a gravelly whisper. "a monster who could crush you, break you, make you kneel if i so desired…"

you swallowed, fighting the quickening of your breath, but held his gaze, your words biting. "then why don’t you?"

for a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his eyes searching your face. slowly, sukuna reached out, and with an uncharacteristic tenderness, the king of curses had tentatively placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw, just as it had done all those weeks ago. "because," he murmured, "you’re the only one i’m compelled to protect."

your heart slammed in your chest, every part of you at war, caught between terror and something far more dangerous, a yearning that he, and only he, seemed able to awaken. he drew you closer, his lips brushing over your temple, voice barely a whisper, rough and unguarded.

"don’t you see?” he continued, his tone softer, aching, and you wondered if the king of curses would ever deign to beg. "it’s you i crave, you who won’t bow so easily. and i…” he exhaled, as though he had to fight against his very being to snap out the words, "find myself undone."

the intensity in his gaze was pulling you in, daring you to come closer, to test the fire you’d spent so long resisting, the fire that you had long been ghosting your fingers over, letting it lick your fingers. you could feel your pulse thrumming as sukuna drew nearer, his towering form casting a shadow that made you feel both caged and protected.

"you do realise," he murmured, voice a deep rumble, "that i’ve thought of this — of you — every night."

your breath hitched as his words sank in, and you attempted a weak laugh, faint in the air, "your enemies would kill to see you so undone."

one of his hands brushed up your back, pulling you closer, aligning your body with his in a way that left no space between you. with another arm, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, his red eyes dark, "i would kill my enemies if they ever laid their eyes on you, in a way that i did not decree."

sukuna's breath was warm against your lips as he leaned down, inch by torturous inch, his mouth hovering just above yours, and you could see the light refract from his pearly fangs, "you have no idea the restraint it’s taken to hold back from this."

and his lips brushed against yours, just a whisper of contact, but enough to ignite something within you. and then, as if some unspoken barrier shattered, his mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was searing and fierce, pouring all his pent-up longing into that single moment. he moved with raw intensity, his mouth firm, demanding, yet achingly tender as he explored every inch of your lips, making you gasp with the force of it, stoking a heat lower within you.

you felt his two remaining arms circle you, anchoring you securely against his chest as he deepened the kiss, pressing you firmly to him. his fingers splayed across your back, drawing you impossibly closer, and you realised with a shiver that you liked the way he held you — possessive, unrelenting, as if he’d never let go.

and so, though you'd never admit it, you melted into him, your hands reaching up to grasp his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his robes. his lips moved with a rhythm that left you breathless, his kiss filled with a heat that left you weak, pliant in his arms. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and half-lidded, a soft, dangerous smile curving his mouth.

"you’re mine," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with an almost reverent awe. and this time, you leaned up to catch his mouth, enjoying that for the first time in written history, the king of curses had purred.

[jesterwriting]

scenario: stuck in a timeloop and the only way to restart is to die

pairing: sanji x reader, law x reader, ace x reader (separate)

contents: hurt/comfort, angst, gore, im serious about the gore tw, graphic description of death, post traumatic symptoms, maybe a touch of survivors guilt, breakdowns, time loops, if youve seen rezero you know whats up

word count: 1.6k words

note: okay if theres one thing i love, its angst and hurt comfort, and if there’s one thing i do when i write it, i go crazy with it. my hands were genuinely shaking while i wrote this. hope you enjoy! [evil laughter]

playlist: eleanor by cake bake betty

No matter how many times you died, you couldn’t help but scream when you woke up again. You lost count how many times it happened, and it wasn’t like there was any point in keeping count besides depressing yourself with your numerous failures. This was your power; horrible and nowhere near worth the cost of losing your ability to swim. With every death, you would restart back at a random checkpoint, beginning anew, able to change the way the timeline went. All it took was to die, and lord above, did you die. Sometimes it was quick, other times it was an agony that would haunt you for many loops after.

Your power left you lonely. Friendships you made in one timeline, didn’t exist in others. You remembered when you were young and greeted a friend from a past loop with a hug. Of course, they didn’t know who you were. They no longer remembered the adventures you experienced or the trials you endured, only you held those memories now. They pushed you away with a look of distress, and you cried for hours after that, burdened with the knowledge that whatever friendship you had before, was gone forever now.

You isolated yourself after that.

It wasn’t until recently that you found yourself with a crew, though no one knew of your ability. You hated talking about it, hated reliving each death again and again. Every time you felt strong enough to speak about it, you always ended up dying and resetting everything back to the status quo. You were surrounded by friends, but so completely, and utterly alone. It was a worm in your gut, chewing on you from within and tearing you apart.

Now, here you were. Dying again.

Failing again.

Your eye spasmed in your skull, the other nothing more than jelly in your socket. The taste of iron pooled in your mouth as you hunched over, organs squirming like maggots from the wound on your abdomen. Sobs wracked your body. With shaking hands, you scooped your entrails into the crook of your arm in hopes that you could put them back inside of you. They were slimy and warm, and you were reminded of eels, or perhaps hagfish.

Everything hurt. You were so afraid, you couldn’t breathe. There was a loud bang and a heavy pressure on your chest. Or maybe, your inability to catch your breath stemmed from the bullet that had pierced through your ribcage and into your lungs. When did that happen? You didn’t know, you didn’t care, all you knew was that you didn’t want to die.

Of course, you didn’t get a say in the matter. Before you knew it, your muscles were going slack and your body was crumpling to the ground. Blood poured from between your lips as your tongue wagged numbly in your mouth. If you weren’t careful, you might bite it off. It had happened before, and you died drowning in your own blood rather than to the slow drain of your wounds. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could have been saved then.

Not now, though. Your guts were supposed to be inside you, not spewed and steaming on the ground.

And, just like that, it was over.

You awoke in bed and screamed. With gasping breaths, your hands frantically felt the intact skin of your belly, and your bulletless chest. Though you were safe, the ghost of your pain lingered like a knife against your back. Sobs tore from your throat as you curled in on yourself.

It had been a long time since a death this bad. So lost in your own misery — again, again, it happened again, why won’t it stop? — you didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.

“Black Leg” Sanji

Sanji was across the room, scooping you into his arms before you were able to blink. You gasped and squirmed slightly as he rubbed your back. A part of you was still there, bleeding out on the ground, and your heart wouldn’t stop hammering wildly in your chest, even as Sanji murmured sweet nothings into your ear. Phantom pain gripped you, and your stomach clenched when you remembered just how slimy your insides were as you tried to put them back where they belonged.

“I’m here, love, I’m here.”

That only made you cry more. Your breath hitched as you gripped the back of his dress shirt in your fist and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were hyperventilating, afraid that the bullet in your chest followed you into this loop, threatening to drag you under again. You died in Sanji’s arms once before, and the terror on his face had etched itself into your brain forever. It couldn’t happen again, you would drag yourself away to die alone under a rock if you could help it.

Sanji’s hand shook as he stroked your hair. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Finally, you caught your breath and wiped the tears from your face. With a watery smile, one you were sure was nowhere near as convincing as you wanted if Sanji’s worried expression was anything to go by.

“I had a nightmare,” You said.

If Sanji knew you were lying, he didn’t say anything. He only held you while you desperately pretended that you had stopped trembling.

Trafalgar Law

Law was the last person who you wanted to see like this. He carried too much already. You were sure that he would crumble if he knew the weight you had been carrying right under his nose. Frantic, you pawed at your face to remove the evidence of your breakdown as if he hadn’t heard you screaming moments before.

“Hey,” He said softly, crouching beside you to gently grab you by the shoulders. Law squeezed, and you took a shaky breath and remembered where you were. You weren’t dying alone in the middle of nowhere, you were on the Polar Tang, with Law, somewhere on the Grand Line.

You sniffled and cracked a small smile. “Hey.”

Unwanted visions of your previous death assaulted you from behind your eyes. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as your arms snaked around your middle to hold your organs inside. It still hurt, why did it still hurt? You were safe now, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Gently, Law pried your arms from your abdomen and pulled up your shirt to inspect it. “I don’t see any external injuries…”

You watched the possibility of an internal injury flit across his face. Before the word ‘room’ left his lips, you shook your head and choked on another sob.

“I had a dream I died,” You admitted the half truth with the sour taste of bile on your tongue.

Law’s brows knit and he let out a small, “Ah.”

Awkward, not yet used to the affection you bestowed upon him so readily, he wrapped his long arms around you with a small pat on your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“If I died, you need to know I would never blame you.” It came out of nowhere, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The truth was, you would blame yourself, you had a lot of experience doing that, though you thought better of saying that aloud.

Law didn’t say anything in response, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between your shoulder blades.

Portgas D. Ace

“What happened? Why are you crying?” Ace was talking before he even reached you, pulling you against his bare chest before you even had a chance to realize he was here. His scent filled your nose, filled your head, until you were hysterical and pulling him as close as possible.

“Was someone here? Did someone hurt you?” With his righteous anger, his body temperature rose as harmless flames licked your fingers. All you could do was cry, so captivated with the man in front of you, your death was all but forgotten.

“No, no, I’m okay.” You pulled back to study his face, your own stained with snot and tears. He practically glowed in the moonlight that streamed through your window. Even at night, Ace shone like the sun. Your clumsy hands found his freckles, sweeping across the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks to his lips. Flesh and bone, alive and whole. You sobbed harder, low keening whines ripping from your throat before you could stop them.

“Had- Had a dream you were gone.”

Ace pulled you tighter against him. “Oh, babe, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

With your fingers tangled in his hair, Ace rocked you back and forth, hushing you softly while you wished to tear open your ribcage and keep him safe inside your body forever. The only way to get to him would be to rip you apart, and even then, you would come back again, stronger than ever. No one would be able to take him from you. You had died too many times to count, faced pain time and time again, there was no torture you wouldn’t endure if it meant you wouldn’t lose your sun.

How many loops had it been? How many times have you had to watch Ace die?

You’d save him this time, you would make sure of it.

[seeingivy]

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader 

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 

previous part linked here

- 

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 

“Okay. Are you sure?” 

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 

All the more reason to do this. 

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today? 

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Jean.” 

“What are you wearing?” 

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 

“You wore the rival's colors.” 

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 

“How much did you hear?” 

“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 

“Um so-” 

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 

“You have to change. Like now.” 

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 

“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 

“It’s just a color.” 

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 

My girl. 

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” 

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.” 

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 

Asshole. 

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 

“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so. 

- 

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 

So this is where Eren gets it from. 

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 

You tap him on the shoulder. 

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 

“His roommate? Since when?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 

“I’m Sasha.” 

“And I’m Connie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did Eren become your roommate?” 

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 

“I might have an idea.” 

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 

“What playlist?” 

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 

“So. Is it about you?” 

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 

“Hm.” 

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 

“We have his wallet.” 

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 

So you don’t. 

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 

-  

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 

“Ren?” 

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 

“Everything okay, kitty?” 

“Uh. I might have messed up.” 

He stops, turning to face you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” 

“What? 

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Yeah. How’d you know? 

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 

- 

next chapter linked here

taglist: @maliakealoha @smolone88 @mykyoon @squirrelspoetry @roronoazorosbxtchh @fell-4-u @erensleftnutt @thelazylemur @mg63k @filunara @mblrrr @spidersinmybutthole @lezsie @erensmoodygf @maesthebestmonth @nanamiswife22 @lalalucidity @lapin0u @cullenswife @leafguitar @saiyasworld @rebeccawinters @mrs-sullys-blog @red-moon-dream @icansmellsouls @luvinclouds @katestrophes @amourely @6sakusa @miralbdo @k0z3me @celiniverse @txminie-blog @erenspersonalwh0re @s0f14sbs @violetmatcha @sweetenertea @wheredidmycrowngo @serendippindots @intimacywithceline @alonemoth @l0v31yw0r1d @meowmeowmau @miasthoughtsdotcom @lia-sstuff @sad-darksoul @bsenpai @getfckdd @twistedchild808 @conniesbbymama @tysynn @smokeyfuzz @faejvst @str4wberrylover @cutiejg @studywithrosie01 @princess-ackerman @mxnst3rz @dryxspecialist66 @uenovv @theyloveniqueeeee @sk1nn1p3nn1s @kz-luvs-you 

[peachy-wolfhard]

The Lair Games

a/n: raaa i love the lair games best mfing episode so whimsical and fun raaaaa also im obsessed with lair games cheerleader hc, italics are interviews (i didnt put everyones interview in only the readers)

Let me know if you would like to be on my tmnt taglist!

Warnings: donnie is a drama queen, The Incident, throwing up mentioned

Word count: 702

I love the lair games and Donnie sm

Sigh the lair games, the time when only Leo wins and then spends an entire year gloating

While it is very fun watching everyone compete a part of you feels bad for Donnie because he NEVER even gets close to winning

That is…until this year

Every year you take it upon yourself to be Donnie’s cheerleader because oh man he needs it. As long as you’re there cheering even as he's losing miserably, he's a little less bitter about it

This year was going to be different though you could feel it! History was about to be made

April had told you before that she was going to record the games, and everyone was even more excited

“Sigh, my legacy of losing will be cemented in film history”

It's now the most anticipated day of the year, the day that everyone looks forward to and trains for this year the prize would be…Leo’s room!

The first game of the day was Handstand Hill Bomb and like every year Leo won first place but this year Donnie won second!

“Let’s go Donnie Let’s go!” you cheer as it’s almost time for the next game, Pipe Goop Chicken

“My personal least favorite game if Donnie wins this one he's not kissing me for a month I swear”

“Let’s go Donnie Let’s go!” you cheer once again

“Do you have any more creative cheers?”

“No, get what you get, and don't throw a fit”

And he won! (Kind of a win-lose scenario, beat Leo and rub it in his face and lose smooches)

Win after shocking win Donnie acquired with Leo hot on his tail and you as his loyal cheerleader yelling catchy cheers while shaking purple and black pompoms

That was until…the incident

“y/n can i get a comment about…the incident?”

“Sleep with one eye open Leo. That’s all I will say on the matter”

While Donnie was recovering Leo began his winning streak

“Cough cough…y/n is that you?”

“Donnie you’re not dying stop acting like a sick Victorian child”

“Take me to the surface…one last time…” he says pulling the blanket up to be under his arms

“Shut up,” you say scratching under his chin then sadly going back to the games

“My moment!” he shouts as you walk back to Splinter announcing Leo’s next victory

Just as Splinter announces Leo’s perfect 10 Donnie appears!

“Not so fast, my friend!” Donnie announces masked in smoke (drama queen I love him)

“I’m here brother, lets bowl”

“When Donnie showed up I was stunned! Just a minute before he was pretending he was a sick Victorian child,” you explained to the camera

After all of Donnie’s dramatics, it was time to bowl. He launches himself off and attempts to get his ankle into his shell

Just as he was able to he’s launched into the mannequins knocking all down…

…But one making it a tie and after consulting the rules the next event was left up to a…

Splinter’s choice

“I knew that rat man would come up with something sinister but I didn't think it would be THAT sinister!”

The final event would be the Slippery Whippery Woo?

“If I vom please hold my hair April”

“We can hold each other's hair”

“Hold my nonexistent hair please”

“We will Mikey”

Your cheerleading was quickly forgotten about not knowing if you should root for your boyfriend to catch his slipper rat father or just leave

The match was quickly over with the words “Do you know what rhymes with second place? Leo’s face!”

“I-i- need a shower…I will claim my prize when i'm clean”

As Leo moves out of his room, April closes in for a final interview, and Donnie gloats

“I’m very proud of you Donnie,” you say kissing your hand and touching his forehead

“You’re very lucky i’m touching you right now,” you say, a lovesick smile plastered to both of your faces

Later that night the two of you are unable to sleep

The one thing Leo didn’t mention is that Splinter’s snores are amplified by the vent directly in his room

Needless to say, Leo got his room back very quickly

[im14andivebeen14foramonth]

we will once again be projecting our mental illness onto an Outsiders Character this time Ponyboy suffers from hypochondria. Thank you

this is definitely one of my fav ponyboy hcs of all time!!

for starters, pony's always been a hypochondriac

even when he was super little, he'd lose his mind over every cough and sniffle he got

"MOM IM DYING!!!!" "pony you sneezed one time you're okay"

it definitely didn't help that he was constantly around soda. soda has the most sensitive stomach ever and was like constantly throwing up or bringing home illnesses from school and the playground and shit. so like every other week soda would be throwing up and now suddenly pony thinks he's sick too (he's not) and he like SWEARS that he has the flu (he is literally perfectly fine)

plus all of the coddling and spoiling from his whole family made ponyboy 10 times more dramatic, so whenever he told someone he was sick and they started cuddling him he'd immediately feel a million times more sick

as pony got older it only got worse and worse. every little cough or stomach bug made him anxious for days, and his whole family would have to reassure him that he was okay

after his parents died, pony's anxiety started to grow in literally form - his nightmares got worse, his zoning out got worse, and his hypochondria got worse

the first time he gets sick after his parents die, pony has one of the worst panic attacks of his life. he had just learned about stomach illnesses in science class, and after just losing his parents, he's sure that he's come down with something bad enough to kill him too. it takes a couple of days of comfort and reassurance from darry and soda to convince him that everything's okay

but what REALLY makes it worse is after the events of the book. pony's lungs aren't as good as they used to be after nearly drowning, along with inhaling all of the smoke in the church. when his cough doesn't go away after a few days after everything happens, pony gets so worked up about lung cancer that darry has to take him to the doctor to convince him that he's just taking a little time to get better

however, the doctor tells darry and pony that all of the physical trauma pony went through (near drowning, inhaling smoke, arm catching fire, concussion) that he's going to have some very long-lasting systems like a persistent cough and more frequent zoning out

it was really hard for pony to come to terms with this; he constantly had to remind himself that the doctor said it was normal, and that he wasn't coming down with anything really bad

also sidenote pony was NOT happy about staying in that church. every five seconds he was like "johnny what if we get sick in here? johnny what if i scratch my hand on something and get tetanus? johnny what if this water isn't clean and it makes us really sick what if we get dysentery?" he was battling in that damn church

it doesn't help that he reads such old books where like. the plague was a common thing. this boy has such a vivid imagination and he's quite naive and will believe he has something that hasn't been around in ages

"darry i feel really really sick i think i have the black plague :(" "pony." "no darry really i have it for sure!" "pony the black plague went away years ago." "WELL IT'S BACK DARRY I AND I HAVE IT I SWEAR!!!"

[akutasoda]

Hello!

I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not, but a while ago I requested a reckless reader who always fought people (which I loved btw ❤) and at the end of Baizhu's you wrote "he just hoped you wouldn't pick a fight with the wrong person" and after reading that I couldn't stop thinking, do you think you could write a Baizhu x Reader where the reader does fight with the wrong person and nearly dies? (Also I'm very sorry if this is too dark I saw that you don't write dark content)

a moment too late, a lover lost

synopsis - what happens when a reckless s/o picks the wrong person to fight

includes - baizhu

warnings - gn!reader, angst w/ some comfort, fluff toward the end, mentions of injuries and unspecified head injury, wc - 660

a/n: hi hi!! and im so glad you enjoyed it ^^

the silence was practically suffocating.

sitting alone in a back room of bubu pharmacy, all you had were your thoughts and the constant stinging of your wounds. they felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out, burning at the faintest brush of air and making you wince and scowl occasionally.

any minute now, baizhu would walk back in and treat your wounds. no doubt he would scold you harshly. you knew he would mean well and so you would listen - it's not like you were in any condition to actually go anywhere, and even if you could, baizhu would still scold you eventually.

around twenty minutes ago you picked a fight with someone. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to get carried away and choose to fight someone on the spot, if anything a common occurrence that baizhu loathed. he wished that you took more care and put more thought into your actions but he knew that was a futile effort.

it was around ten minutes ago that baizhu found you. unfortunately, for the first time, you had picked a fight with the wrong person. the details were blurred and filled with pain - the fight had left you with quite bad head injuries, nothing major but certainly enough to make blurry memories of the encounter. and you were lucky to be found by your lover.

likelihood was that if baizhu was even a minute later you probably would've met the worse. all you saw before your blurry vision faded into static black was a flash of green and the body of your opponent hitting the floor.

you woke up, unsure of how long it had been or even where you were. when your senses had come around, you recognised baizhu sitting beside you looking disappointed. he then proceeded to help sit you up before leaving the room to collect something.

and now he had returned. the disappointment in his gaze hadn't faulted, if anything it intensified as he finally gave your wounds a proper look over. baizhu sighed and a part of you wanted to crawl into a hole away from him and hide. he made light work of the minor cuts, bruises and various other small injuries before turning most of his attention to the major wounds.

noticeably while you were passed out, baizhu tended to the most serious injuries. he wanted to avoid you getting an infection or dying from blood loss or even simply succumbing to your injuries. however a single word had yet to be spoken between either of you. you, too embarrassed, and he was angry, disappointed and mainly concerned.

he knew your habit would've caught up to you eventually, he just wished he could've done more to stop you now. seeing how injured you were hurt him. baizhu wanted to scold you, to get all his frustrations out about nearly losing you and knowing that if he hadn't been there you wouldn't be here anymore.

baizhu could save the scolding for after you rested. for now, he finished tending to your wounds and handing you bitter medicine to deal with the pain. and then carefully, minding agitating any wounds, he took you into his arms. holding you tighter than any other time, fearing that if he let go, you wouldn't be here. that he didn't save you, that he lost you.

you still weren't spared from a very long scolding and being forced into making a promise to stop getting into fights, after a long well needed rest - to which baizhu refused to stray too far.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[insectfem]

don't you think that some of the horrific shit that trump is going to do cis people, including cis women (vis a vis birth control and abortions) might have something to do with the "trans shit". you call him a nazi and then dismiss the "trans shit" as if the actual german nazis from the early 20th century that were led by the actual real hitler did not historically also round trans people into camps, as if the nazi book burning photos we have today are not of magnus hirschfeld's institute for sexual research.

i understand that you're scared of losing birth control. that is horrible, yes. historically though the "trans shit" that the nazis did involved the trans people getting put into camps. i just think if you want to talk about fascism and use nazism specifically, you have to realise that the "trans shit" is a part of the nazism.

the "trans shit" that trump is doing isn't some kind of distraction or inconsequential whatever. why compare someone to a nazi then dismiss something that they've done that actually aligns perfectly with the original nazis as "trans shit". come on, lets use our brains for a second here

no, i don't think abortion rights have anything to do with transgender people, and everything to do with controlling women's bodies and trying to turn us into breeding stock for men again. because, again, I CAN GET TESTOSTERONE IN MY STATE BUT NOT AN ABORTION. IT IS A FELONY TO GET AN ABORTION IN MY STATE. IF A WOMAN MISCARRIES, IT COULD POTENTIALLY MAKE HER A FELON IN MY STATE.

yall keep saying "him going after trans people is a sign he's gin a go after women" WHEN WEVE LOST OUR BODILY AUTONOMY ALMOST THREE YEARS AGO. THE ONLY PUSHBACK YALL HAVE SEEN IS THAT CHILDREN CAN NO LONGER GO ON HRT. that's not even a bad thing. there's a state where a child as young as 9 can get tattoos as long as their parents are okay with it. i 1000% think that state needs the age changed to 18. we don't let children get rhinoplasties or take ozempic or get breast implants. it is not an infringement on one's rights to not be able to permanently change your body before you turn 18. i have tattoos. im extremely happy that i couldnt get them before 18 because id probably have a fucking steven universe sleeve. kids are fucking stupid. yall acting like trans people are dying because kids can't make permanent changes to themselves is stupid. asking people to neglect biological sex is stupid too.

also ☝🏻 why are you spewing historical revisionism about the holocaust to a disabled jew? homosexuals were targeted. cross dressers were targeted. yall loooove to take gay male cross dressers and pretend they're transgender (ie marsha johnson, famous, self reported, gay man) so i assume yall see femine gay man and immediately think TRANS. this is just a other example of tras trying to take over literally every other tragedy and making it about them. when are yall gonna start saying 9/11 targeting trans office workers?

also² "i understand you're scared of losing birth control" sounds so goddamn condescending because im not scared ABORTION IS GONE FOR ME. MILLIONS OF AMERICAN WOMEN CANNOT ACCESS ABORTION. my birth control costs ONE THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS. they're making it hard to accessfor poor women, especially when theyre taking insurance away. "i know you're so scared" just sounds like you're saying "damn hoes be crazy amirite."

the trump is hitler comparison is because someone he appointed to a department in the government heil'd hitler twice during his inauguration. he's overwriting something signed in the 1960s to end """"affirmative action"""" (making sure that companies don't hire only white men). him and many other republicans are constantly referring to a they, and we all know they mean (((them))). the threats of mass deportation.

saying there are two sexes is not a nazi thing. if a nazi said "the sky is blue," he's not incorrect just because he's a nazi.

im scared for black people. im scared for gay people. im scared for women. im scared for disabled people. im scared for latinos. im scared for immigrants. im not scared for you, just on the basis of being trans alone, because there are much more pressing issues

[kerstuhn]

wwwy was something i always dreamt of going to. i saw the first lineup for 2022 and was in awe and genuinely couldn’t believe it was real (it was around this time when i was recovering from a cardiac arrest and had completely missed mcrs uk tour and knew there was no chance of seeing them live). i stayed up to watch the streams to see the outfits and it was incredible.

i watched again last year for blink-182 who i was fortunate enough to see live. and when this years lineup was announced with not only fall out boy (my all time favourite band ever) but my chemical romance playing all of the black parade i knew there was no chance i could miss it.

the two years of fomo were rough and since i was fit and healthy again i knew i had to go. now one week post wwwy i cry whenever i think about it.

these are tears of joy, pride, and strength. welcome to the black parade was my favourite song as a child and that album followed me all through my preteens and throughout high school. and for where i lived that sorta music during that time was really outcasted. it was hard finding people with similar tastes in highschool and earlier but through festivals and concerts and even online, i have been able to find communities and places where i feel accepted.

when i had my cardiac arrest there was so much put against me and the doctors saw my case as a genuine miracle and even today it still baffles me as to how im here. sitting here knowing ive heard this album that tackles the subject of dying due to your body losing a battle and subsequently losing strength and energy but regaining it through the acceptance of death is surreal.

i never related to that album before a couple years ago as much as i do right now. having been so close to death and teetering over the edge makes the messages in this album all so real. dead!, cancer, famous last words, welcome to the black parade are few songs from that album that solidify and truly validate my experiences.

the black parade as an album has made me feel seen in so many different ways throughout all stages of my life. i can happily say i wouldn’t be here without it as cliché as it sounds. wwwy regardless about how some may feel about the concept and planning of the festival made me feel like i can achieve so much more than what is expected of me.

people thought i was mad going 5000+ miles to see this band and i was but considering i have died i don’t think it’s that bad !

[aibouart]

here's a doodle from last year im thinking abt again

so red, being the son of a big bad ancient vampire, i thought it'd be interesting if he had unusual vampiric genes that activate if he started a coven (does anyone know any better names for that...... esp cuz i don't think they'd actually use that word for making a group of turned vampires under a vampire.....)

but anyways, if he were to start a coven/group, it would cause a physical change in him, his eyes turn black (including sclera) and his ears become pointed. i think it'd also be cool if it gave him extra abilities, like being able to tell if the people under him are in starvation mode, are nearby, or other locating abilities to help coordinate and even take care of their group.

he never turns anyone on purpose, and for this au he ended up turning Lyo to save him from dying. he feels tremendous guilt for it, even now, but they primarily live together with little issues. because of his form, though, red would need to wear sun glasses and rarely goes outside. he'd also lose his reflection in mirrors as he becomes something more "other-worldly".

[chipjrwibignaturals]

I will say— i haven’t gotten to it yet, because im bad at this, but— i want to state my surface level thoughts when it comes to chip Dying

bc like to me chip has always been a cockroach. no matter what he goes through, it won’t kill him. in some ways as a cruel cosmic joke, a cyclic tragedy, he’s destined to forever exist. he’s been given an impossible task, to find arlin, and he’s not allowed to stop. he’ll just keep going and wallowing in it aimlessly forever, he’s not allowed even the decency of death. in the same way he breaths air, chip jrwi keeps on living — it’s just what he does, how he is.

and it felt extra validated with when he considered quitting while Gill was gone. he felt like his own presence was bringing down the people around him, that it was his fault gillion was gone— so he was going to leave to save them from himself and just… sail. he knows leaving means giving up his only real tangible lead to find arlin, what he wants, but he also can’t risk them so he’ll just take a boat and… wander listlessly. Hope for maybe something good to stumble upon. god has cursed him and his work is never finished, etc etc.

so when i first heard abt Chip’s situation i was admittedly… not super into it? definitely contributed to why i got so far behind tbh, i wasn’t looking forward to it. it crashed hard against my perception of chip’s character & his narrative. hes destined to be a tragedy and that tragedy is because he’s alive

and I’ll be the first to say depending on handling i still may dislike the choice BUT I’ve made my own way around to enjoying the choice (even if it wouldn’t be my first choice)

first off, in some ways i feel like chip was also of the belief that he would just… keep living. no matter what happened to him. he’d “have a plan” and find some way to slip out, then restart and try again. he knows the universe seems to love to watch him suffer, so he just…. doesnt really think he can die. at least not like that.

it’s the very violation of the expectations I established, experienced in and out of character. it feels abrupt, wrong. that’s not what was set up for him! …until you realize that he changed first.

since the black rose, chip was seated with the fate of forever searching and trying to capture a past he can’t have. but it’s only through his experiences with jay and gillion and his OWN crew that he… grows past that. he makes peace with what he’s lost, or at least starts to, and allows for new growth in that spot. he’s regained a family to rely on, he’s growing comfortable and moving on. he’s losing the tragedy-angle of his own life— so he dies. his fate is absolute and it is black, it is a tragedy no matter what. this is the narrative retaliating against him for trying for better than he was allotted.

it’s worse too because he’s so close to finding arlin, to being able to finally put all this behind him and get closure. it’s all salt in the wound. leading him on, letting him regain his hope, giving him peace… only to snatch it all away. what a cruel, cruel joke.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

🐝🪳🪰

henlo!! (bops you on the nose) thank you for these great questions! im overflowing with fics i nEED to rec!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i realized all of these fics are longfics and that u may not necessarily enjoy reading those; feel welcome to drop me the same bugs in my inbox and ill do a short version for you <3)

🐝 recommend a fic with great symbolism, or themes, something really clever, or, like. just something you could write a whole literary essay about!!!

there are honestly so many fics i could write a literary essay about so im restraining myself to the first option

within us an orchard by mintyfish (guckindieluft). QY, WOH, pre-canon/canon divergence, wenzhou, tian chuang era, secret garden-esque, grief/mourning, identity shenanigans, injury tending, murder husbands, M. zhou zishu, leader of tianchuang, enlists the mysterious intruder he caught in the middle of stealing into his manor to garden work. while they heal his miserable excuse of an inner courtyard garden, zhou zishu also finds his will to live.

something something nature, grief, intersections:

By month's end, the north-facing branches of the plum tree were as black and twisted as the half-consumed wreckage of a house fire. If he stood on his roof, Zhou Zishu could see the flecks of budding plum trees painted across the city. His might just be slower—but a hard dark certainty had taken up residence in his gut. It wasn't going to bloom. In a week, Zhou Zishu would drive the second nail into his meridians.

Wen Kexing's approving little nods couldn't mask what was surely now obvious to both of them: Zhou Zishu had created a killing jar. Was it really so surprising that everything in it was dying?

But then, the book said—fire. Really, of all the things Zhou Zishu had done in the garden these weeks, treating the plum tree should have been the most familiar: cut down what must be cut down, cauterise what might be saved, and burn out the rot before it could spread. Court factions, families, trees—contain them or kill them, the tools were the same. Whether the tree would survive, the book could not tell him.

🪰 recommend a fic that makes you sad (in the best way!!)! Some great angst and/or hurt/comfort!

ripple by notoneoftheheroes. QY, WOH, pre-canon/canon divergence, wenzhou, alternative version of events, identity shenanigans, happy end, whump, angst, siji manour, M. a trick allows zhou zishu to move his sect back to the jianghu, (almost!) out from under the thump of the crown prince. but his sect, the family of his choosing, gets more and more dissatisfied with the choices zhou zishu makes to maintain that delicate balance and ensure their survival, and things start to tighten around zhou zishu‘s throat. will he lose everyone he loves? zhou zishu is an unreliable narrator in this one, and as things get worse and worse with the sect members he views as his family here, you can watch as each side makes terrible choices that lead them almost to a terrible end.

the two headed dragon by lisbeth_laufeyson. WOH alternative canon universe, childhood friends to lovers, angst, grief/mourning, manipulation, optimistic but open end*, E. out of the shadow, someone wants siji manour ill. things take a turn for the worse when wen kexing himself, one of the two leaders of tianchuang, gets fatally wounded and almost dies. over the course of his long coma, zhou zishu is vulnerable and falls into dark waters while trying to save his sect. this fic really examines zhou zishu‘s potential for committing atrocities, caused by his desire to do good and stoked by someone he trusts but shouldnt. you know who is behind it, thats not a spoiler, but they dont, and it hangs over the story like a dark cloud. this fic comes with a major character death tag! as with the last chapter that is not up to date anymore! there is a sequel! *important edit for clarification: its a bad ending! the only thing that could inspire u to be optimistic about it is that the person u think is dead turns out to not be dead!

🪳 recommend a great AU!

in a city sorrow built by wearealltalesintheend. WOH pre/canon divergence/alternative universe, family of choice, grief/mourning, fluff, T. the ghost valley is no place for a child, and thus wen kexing grows up on top of a mountain with an old monster, a goofy swordsmith, and a grieving old lady. yet, he clutches that glooming coal of rage and sorrow close to his chest, and decades later his revenge unfolds. i loved this so much for how it changes basically everything about wen kexing‘s backstory, and thus creates this alternative universe in which wen kexing Has It Better, but manages to examine how in the end it only marginally makes an impact on his desire for revenge and chaos. i loved the different faces of mourning and grief and how here, even more people join the collection of loved ones wen kexing loses. only now he truly isnt alone in his grief and he‘s arguably better emotionally prepared for it. this is a wip!

bug me for fic recs!!!!! do it!!!!!!!!

[angelmichelangelo]

Hey! 👋

I saw your post of having a hard time today, so hope this helps!!

I am about to ask you a series of questions, (of which you have the right to refuse to answer if you’re not comfortable), and hopefully this will help distract you. 😁

1. Who is your favorite TMNT brother to write fics about?

2. What fic that you have written are you the most proud of?

3. How many medical-based TMNT fics have you written?

Now enough about what you write- let’s get to know you a bit better. :)

1. What is your favorite color?

2. Have you ever watched a sunrise before? If so, where and when? (If you can remember!)

3. What is your favorite snack while you work?

4. Does your closet consist of lighter or darker colors?

5. Do you have any pets? :)

6. Are you aware that your fics make so many people very happy, and have touched all of our hearts in ways we can’t well describe? (I WILL make fanart GOSHDARN IT- There’s just SO MANY Fics to choose from HAHA)

7. Do you have any OCs that no one in particular could draw? 😁

Hope this helps you, Angelo! (Is it alright if I call you that?) You got this!! Hang in there, and remember to take things slow. Run your race at your own pace. 💙

~ Melissa

hello there friend! :) thank you very much for this ask!!

to answer your questions!

1. i would say that mikey or leo is my favourite to write just because they have a special place in my heart 🥺

2. i’d say the fic im most proud of would be my glass turtles fic. it was a lot when i was writing it and maybe the only tmnt fic ive ever had hate on?😅 but it’s a fic that i am really glad i stuck with and put out there :)

3. i love me a good sick!fic !! and any whump fics are just like. pure gold to my heart lol — i do quite enjoy writing sainw fics were mikey loses his arm or i have a soft spot for epileptic rise mikey after the movie events :) but i plan on more medical based fics because it’s all i know lol

and as for me !!

1. i love the colour orange :) my bedroom is orange and everyone told me it would look silly but it’s so warm and glowy and makes me feel so safe :)

2. i had a really amazing opportunity to go to thailand just before the 2020 pandemic where i stayed in a little villa on a beach. i was having pretty bad jet lag and woke up early nearly every morning i was there and would just go sit on this quiet, empty beach with the warmth on my face as the sun came up. this was just a few months before my life got really hectic with family members becoming ill/dying and i just appreciate that i got to have that to kind of hold onto, in a way. to always remind me of the goodness in the world <3

3. i have a terrible habit of underrating at work 😬 but sometimes the kitchen staff are nice enough to make me up some potato croquettes that are just so so nice haha

4. my closet is a complete mismatch! :D i dont really have a set style of pretty much anything in my life so its a healthy mixture of lights and darks and all in between :)

5. i do!! i have a black cat that is just the sweetest lady in the whole world :3 she likes to sleep under the blankets curled up next to me and chew on my hair lol

6. oh 🥺🥺🥺 that really does mean so much.. i love writing fic and have done for the last, like 10 years ive been active in fandom spaces online. i have so much fun interaction with people through them and whenever someone tells me what it means to them is just like, maybe possibly the best feeling in the world. i appreciate that so much, thank you. (and any and all fanart is just gonna make my heart explode in the best way possible)

7. i don’t have any OCs for tmnt really. i mean, a long long time ago i had a fic idea of another turtle that reunites with them as is like. a motherly kind of figure but that never took off the ground and i haven’t really revisited it in like the last 8ish years lol but who knows! maybe 2025 will be the year of OCs!!

and it’s perfectly fine :) you can call me angelo, angel — i know a few people have and i think it’s really sweet :’) thank you so very much for this ask, im holding it very close to my heart <33

have an amazing day, thank you again !!

[lesvii]

Wanted pt. 2

Chapter 1:

Sorry for the wait, I've haven't been active lately but i will try to keep it up, I'm not sure if I'll leave this story here? Or made a extra part. This is just Smut. 🌶️

English is not my first language so please correct me if something's wrong🫶

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.

.

The taller woman raised an eyebrow as she smirked at me.

´´Well you're an obedient girl, i'll give you that…´´

I look at the woman again from the reflection in front of me, I'm sure I gave her my most terrified look because she sighed.

``Calm down girl, i don't bite… unless you provoke me to.´´ The woman whisper into my ear, as she slowly losses the grip on me and takes her hand off my mouth, i quickly turn to face her as i take a few steps back and hit the kitchen counter, i supported myself with my hands on the counter, as i tried to get my breathing steady, my chest falling up and down. I finally have the courage to speak.

``W-Who are you? What are you doing in my house–´´ I got cut off by the woman interrupting me.

As the woman drifts slowly towards the other side of the kitchen counter as she leaned to it looking at me, the moon shining through the window hitting her face, made me realize something… something that made my skin crawl, she looked way to much like Valeria as Valeria Garza or el sin nombre, a cold shiver hit my spine as i shake the thought of.

``I think you already know that dont you?´´ Valeria smirks, as she walks towards me and leans close to my face.

´´So pretty girl… are you all bark no bite? I heard you on your little chat...´´ Valeria whispered into my ear, as she grabbed my waist, her cold hand made me shiver through my night clothes, a black silky tank top and some cream comfy pants. My eyes widened at what she said, suddenly I felt my face hot and a faint tint of pink appear on my cheeks.

´´I-Im…not sure what you're talking about– you should go, i don't want any trouble.´´ I said to Valeria as i look up at her but quickly took my gaze off her, her gaze on me was way to powerful, to determined on what she was doing. She grins once again as she grips my chin to force me to look at her, she makes a clicking sound with her tongue as she shakes her head.

´´No chula, i'm not going anywhere.¨ Valeria said as her grip on me tightened, she looked me up and down as she chuckled. Whatever was going in her mind I wasn't staying to find out, but her other hand gripping my waist pressing me on the counter prevented me from moving.

``How about we make a deal? Huh?.´´ Valeria said, I chuckled nervously.

´´I don't think making a deal with El Sin Nombre worked for your dead enemies, didn't it?.´´ I said.

´´Smart girl..´´ Valeria said with a cocky grin.

´`in this case is not essentially cartel business, so i can guarantee you're not dying…´´ Valeria said with her predatory gaze on me, i gulped.

´´I don't think i have an option´´ I said nervously, valeria smiled at me as she loses the grip on me and took a step back, but close enough still to feel her hot breathing.

´´Im staying long enough until my men can escort me out safely…´´Valeria said

´´And what do I get in return?´´ I said, Valeria grins as the way she looks at me changes, her hand rested in my cheek, she brushes off the hair on my face, she leans to me.

``Lets say ill fuck you, but not in your sleep so you can remeber it´´ Valeria boldly said to my face, well now i know she listen to my whole chat on the phone, oh my god, i mean it wasnt that bad, isnt it?.

Nothing bad was turning out of this, I let her stay for a day or two and I got the special treatment, not that I was needy about it but its been months since I actually slept with someone, 3 years since my last relationship, and small situationships i've had through the month but nothing serious.

I blushed at how bold Valeria was being.

``I– theres no need for that, and please forget everything i said in that call´´i said embarrassed, i tired to get away from valeria walking away but she grab my arm.

´´Not so fast, gatita´´ Valeria said, that made me shiver, which she noticed.

Valeria leaned into me gazing at my body until she stopped at my face and kissed me, deeply and rough. I kissed her back, as she grabbed me by the waist and pushed me into the wall, i gasp but she didn't seem to care as she kept kissing me, this time she bit my bottom lip, forcing me to open my lips as she introduced her tongue in me, i melted into her touch rough but steady, my hands rested in her shoulders keeping her closer to me, she came down to the crook of my neck as i felt her sloppy wet kisses as she whispers.

´´We should take this somewhere comfortable don't you think, chula?´´ Valeria whispered into my ear, as I shamelessly nodded, I couldn't speak. I led her upstairs as I opened the door to my room, a queen size bed with white fluffy sheets, a big window in the balcony where you could see the huge moon from inside, dim lights in the room, a faint scent of Vanilla from a candle I had lit up a few hours ago.

As soon as i closed the bedroom door Valeria grabbed me from behind as she turn me to her and kissed me again, she grabbed me by the waist and laid me into the bed, she was on top on me, her hands wondering on my body, for a split second i thought, what the fuck i was doing, but the thought quickly went away as i felt valeria hand underneath my tank top grabbing my breast, i whimpered, but quickly shut myself up putting a hand over my mouth. Valeria looked at me and leaned into my ear.

´´I wanna hear you… don't cover yourself up´´.

Valeria's lips met yours eagerly, and she grabbed you and held you firmly against her.

Her mouth moved with yours as her hands roamed across your abdomen, her fingers digging into your flesh.

"You are even more lovely than I imagined" She whispered "I can't wait to explore every corner of that body of yours"

She bit your lip softly and her mouth went down to your neck, letting her tongue explore you while she kept kissing your neck.

Valeria took both of your hands and pinned them down above your head, with her other hand she quickly took your tank top off, as she carefully touched your bare skin, tracing patterns in your abdomen, she made a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your lower abdomen just where your pants where, as she breath in, and looked at you from below, asking for permission, as you nodded at her

Valeria grinned, taking the hint. She slid her fingers along the waistband of your pants, tugging gently as she moved them down to pool at your ankles. With a smirk on her face, Valeria leaned down and took off your pants, exposing you completely. She ran her fingers along your thighs, tracing patterns on your skin as she looked up at you with a predatory smile.

"Now then," she purred, as you shyly looked away from valeria she had this predatory gaze on your body, as she grips your chin forcing you to look up at her.

“look at me, Chula” she whisper.

“Mmm, that's better," Valeria whispered, her gaze raking over your exposed body with hunger. She leaned in closer, her warm breath caressing your skin as she trailed her fingers down to your chest.

"You're so beautiful," valeria said.

as Valeria’s hand slowly trail down from your abdomen into your inner right, her hand massage your skin, as her finger crawls into your sensitive spot between your legs.

"Mmm..." Valeria moaned as she felt your body respond to her touch.

Her finger slowly traced the outline of your entrance, teasing and exploring you in a way that made you shiver in anticipation. "You’re so wet for me already.. perra"

Valeria watched carefully as her finger sank into you, her lips curling into a wicked grin when she saw the way you whimpered and writhed beneath her. She was in control of every sensation coursing through your body, and she took great pleasure in it. As you whimper into her touch, you grab from the bed sheets as hard as you can, the burning sensation hits for a moment until you adjust into valeria thrust into you. Feeling your body adjust to her intrusion, Valeria pushed deeper, her fingers finding your g-spot effortlessly. She began to thrust in and out, her other hand moving to caress your clit gently.

“hmm—v-valeria” you moan as she thrusted deeper into you, the ecstasy of the moment got the best out of you, as valeria caressed your clit with her thumb.

Valeria groaned softly, taking in the sound of your voice as she thrust deeper into you. The wet sloppy sound taking over the room. Her hand moved from your clit to pinch your nipple and twist it playfully, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yes, Chula," Valeria whispered, her voice hoarse with desire.

"Give in to it. Let me take you where you've never been before." With each thrust of her finger, she increased the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," Valeria purred, her hips grinding against your leg as she took control of the situation. Her thrusts became faster and more intense, driving you to the brink of climax with each passing moment. "Cum for me, Chula,".

As for each trust this warm feeling between your legs kept getting bigger, as you grip into valeria shoulders and whimper her name, as you cum.

“V—Valeria" was all you could manage to say as you felt yourself spasm around her finger. Your body shuddered with pleasure, and Valeria could feel the warmth of your cum seeping onto her hand. She continued to thrust, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from you. Feeling our body tense and tremble beneath her, Valeria smiled in satisfaction as she watched you climax. Your walls clenching tightly around her finger, signaling your release.

Your breathing still agitated, your eyes shut but you hit your climax, as Valeria's finger retreats from your insides, she licks her fingers clean and lays tired beside you as you both try to get your breathing back to normal.

“There you go, Chula," Valeria said softly, her voice a gentle whisper against your ear. She leaned over to kiss your forehead tenderly before lying down beside you, her breathing slowly returning to normal as well.