#but what i like about these is that you have to second guess whose card it is

[not-so-empty-sekai]

WE SHOULD HAVE MORE CARDS LIKE THIS

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington, who has a very “in name only” relationship with his parents, the people who claim they love him lots but have simply given him cash for his last six birthdays without bothering to send a card. 

Steven Harrington, who lost his connection to the only adults in his life who actually parented him when he had his final fight with Tommy and Carol-- not that they ever really did that much. Having an adult put a bandaid on his knee and complimenting him for being tough was plenty enough. 

Steve Harrington, who drove Dustin and co. to the Byers house that one Christmas and was told by Hopper not to come in; that Joyce was still mad at him about the ‘demodog in the fridge’ and figured his exclusion was fair--it wasn’t like Hopper actually liked him. Joyce certainly had no reason to. It wasn’t like he was doing anything for Christmas anyways. 

Steve Harrington, who is fairly certain Robin’s parents have clocked her as queer but who still treats him in that careful way many parents do when he’s hanging around their daughter. There’s a barrier there, in the way of firm handshakes and “get her back safe”’s that keep things formal. (It’s never bothered him before, and he swears it doesn’t bother him now.) 

Steve Harrington, whose relationships with adults are defined by words like “networking”, “proper connections”, “favors”, and “finances”, who has at best been treated like a miniature version of his father and at worst as a spoilt moron, who encounters Wayne Munson and has no idea what to do with the man. 

Wayne Munson, who asks him actual questions about his life. Who asks him to watch the game with him. Who calls him “boy” and “son” in ways that sound affectionate and not frustrated. Wayne, who shoos him away from the dishes and compliments his cooking, who has invited Steve over when Eddie isn’t even home.

Steve Harrington, who keeps apologizing to Eddie because “I’m not trying to steal your Uncle man, I promise.” and doesn’t believe Eddie when the latter just laughs at him.

(“You can’t steal Wayne, Steve.” Eddie says with a snicker, when he finally figures out what Steve is apologizing for.  The guy apologizes a lot for things that make no sense, it’s a bad habit Eddie’s working on him with. “Though I do believe he has been trying to steal you.” 

“Oh.” This does not relieve Steve. In fact, this seems to make him more nervous looking, which Eddie does not want. 

“I uh. I don’t want to come between you guys so I guess we can just hang at my house…?” The voice he trails off with is downright painful for Eddie to hear, and he’s already slashing his hand in the air in a wild ‘No’ before Steve can even finish speaking.

“Dude you’re fine. I’m glad you guys are getting along! Wayne needs someone to talk sportsball with and clearly so do you because you keep trying to talk about it to anyone who will listen.”

“I guess if you’re alright with it…”) 

Steve Harrington, who allows himself to be adopted by the Munsons much in the way a feral cat lets itself become domesticated, and who starts looking at Wayne like the man hung the moon. 

Wayne Munson, who is referred to by Steve as “Dad” exactly once, and feels so fucking happy about it he misses the panic attack Eddie has to talk Steve through. 

He also misses that that is the moment when Steve accidentally confesses his feelings to Eddie in the Munson’s (new) cramped bathroom, on grounds that “I can’t date you and also call Wayne dad like that, that’s weird! Isn’t that weird!? It feels weird!” 

(“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, trying not to smile and failing entirely. “I get what you’re saying, but I think in your panic you missed something kinda key, there.”) 

Steve Harrington, who gets himself an entire family in the end (and gets to both call Wayne “dad” and Eddie as his boyfriend, without issue, because “we’re not related babe, you can call your inlaw whatever you want.” 

“Now who's skipping steps? When did we get married?”

“The very second it’s legal, that’s when.”) 

--and has never been happier in his life.

[maya1525]

SUCK ~ & ~ F*CK 😋🍾

✩ Featuring Toge Inumaki & Yuuta Okkotsu ✩

18+MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge Inumaki & Yuuta Okkotsu

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, sex in front of others, language, rough sex, group sex, double penetration in pussy

Word count✩࿐2.1k

Summary✩࿐This is based on my original post: SUCK ~ GUESS ~ F*CK. But you know ahead of time whose dick is in your slutty mouth. Inumaki drew 2 of Diamonds♦️ and Yuuta drew 2 of Hearts♥️

A/N✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge & Yuuta will always be my favorite grouping. Both of these men have a special spot in my heart 💜 I felt inspired to have them share the readers kitty cat due to (my own similar experience). 🤪 Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖

“The game is quite simple.” Gojo stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re going to be blindfolded and will have to guess which man's dick is in your mouth. If you guess incorrectly, the man gets to choose which position to fuck you in. If you guess correctly, then you get to choose the position. To keep things interesting, you’ll suck dick for three minutes and get fucked for seven.”

You nodded your understanding as you sat on the large and cushy futon in Gojo’s apartment. He had planned on fucking you alone tonight, but your boyfriends wanted in on the action, plus they thought it would be a good idea to invite two of their friends, Mechamaru and Noritoshi.

You felt your cheeks warm up with excitement, never in your life, you’ve felt so deeply desired before. Everyone’s eyes were on you, especially because you wore a revealing teddy one-piece. Satoru bought it for you, and it complimented your figure perfectly. He even put a stunning custom collar on you, with a diamond-covered ‘S’ on it.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed to be this exposed in front of Noritoshi and Mechamaru. You were familiar with both of these men, but you were still getting used to human Mechamaru. Muta was on the leaner side compared to your boyfriends, he had sharp features and a large and noticeable scar on his upper cheek. While Kamo on the other hand always seemed like a strong and serious leader among his comrades. The thought that he yearned for you just as much as your boyfriends made you wonder what he would be like when he fucked you. The thought made you anticipate his turn.

While you thought about those two men, your eyes were subconsciously drawn to both of them. Noritoshi sat on the far side of the sectional, his heated gaze stared you down hungrily. Beside him sat your boyfriend Megumi with a starved look in his midnight blue eyes. Next sat Itadori, he eyed you with such desperation, that it looked as if he was going to jump off the couch any second to get to you. Next to him sat Satoru smugly, his eyes gleamed playfully in your direction. Beside him was Muta, he eyed shyly with a faint blush on his face. To his left sat Yuuta and Inumaki, Toge was leaning into the couch comfortably, his violet-colored eyes sparkling over your stunning body with admiration and Yuuta had a similar look of awe on his face.

“Ok Y/n, I’m going to put this on you if you’re ready,” Satoru murmured, his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming down at you, while he wrapped his black blindfold around your eyes.

You were shocked at how you couldn’t even see small streams of light through it. You had always assumed that it was sheer fabric and that Gojo could slightly see through it, but you were mistaken. Satoru’s amazing Six Eyes technique is one to behold, he certainly is the strongest jujitsu sorcerer.

“OK, now that her eyes are covered, I’m going to hand each of you a playing card. Whoever draws the highest card gets to go first.” Satoru explained nonchalantly, as the sound of him shuffling the cards expertly made itself known in your ears.

After a short moment of listening to each man shift on the couch to get their card, Gojo spoke. “Now let’s reveal our cards.” You heard a few small sighs of excitement from some of the men, and you also heard some hisses of displeasure, assuming that they would have to wait a while until their turn.

You then felt something hot press against your left cheek, and as you turned to try and put it in your mouth you felt another dick poke your right cheek. Surprise caught you off guard, both? At the same time? Maybe they drew the same number card. That was all you could logically conclude in your hazy brain.

You decided to alternate sucking both of your boyfriends' dicks, first the one on the left. You kissed his entire length lovingly while you softly pumped the other cock in your right hand. Your wet mouth enveloped the rod on your left briefly. You held him in your throat for a bit, knowing that it would feel pleasurable. You quickly switched hands and gave the same type of treatment to the dick on the right. You trailed featherlight kisses up and down his dick. Then you beckoned him down your throat, knowing that he’ll enjoy the wet squeeze. Once both cocks were saturated with your saliva, you jerked them off simultaneously. As you pumped them, you brought their tips to your lips. You were able to taste their salty precum drip onto your tongue.

The other men in the room couldn’t help but get even more fired up at what was going on right before their eyes. Yuuta and Inumaki exchanged heated glances with each other while your hot mouth worshiped them at the same time. Yuuta was on the left and Toge on the right, each man had a fist full of your hair gripped tightly.

You dragged your tongue across them both in the most sensational way, earning a muted moan to come from the back of Toge’s throat. Despite being fucked out, you were excited to enjoy Inumaki and Yuuta at the same time. You forced the dick on your left to go down your throat once more, and as you did a small sigh escaped his lips. You then switched to the cock on your right, guiding him down your throat with your tongue. You felt him pull your hair tautly, earning a gurgled moan of excitement to come from the back of your throat.

Just then, the timer went off and it was time to guess. Due to the process of elimination, “Yuuta and Inumaki.” You said confidently while lowering your blindfold. Your hazy eyes were greeted by both of your boyfriends standing over you with their sprung and slick dicks in your face. They eyed you longingly and were ready for action.

“So how do you want to take us?” Yuuta asked with a lustful look in his dark eyes.

“I wanna enjoy you in me at the same time.” You sighed, leaning back on the futon seductively. “Yuuta, sit down on the couch.” You instructed, with a perverted idea in your head.

Your black-haired boyfriend did what he was told and sat beside Muta. “Then Inumaki, get on top and face him. Then I’ll sit on you both.” You smiled with a playful glint in your eye.

Toge obeyed your command and settled himself on Yuuta’s lap. You made your way over to them and spun around so you could face your sweet Inumaki. Your dripping pussy hovered over Toge’s dick, but Yuuta had the head of his cock at your ass. You wanted them both in your cunt, so you snuck your hand down and guided his rod up to Inumaki’s so that they were touching. Both men shuddered at the taboo feeling, you couldn’t help but adore the flustered look on Toge’s face. His violet-colored eyes looked at you with deep desire.

You were too caught up in the moment and slipped down onto both dicks entirely. Having both cocks up your pussy felt incredibly hot, you felt a slight sting to being stretched out, but you pushed it aside and focused on having a good time with your boyfriends instead.

“Mmm, you’re too tight.” Whimpered Yuuta from behind you, you felt him lean forward and kiss your shoulders and caress your waist lovingly. You held onto Inumaki for stability while you slowly moved your hips for more friction.

Both men groaned out in pleasure while you ground yourself on them, this caused their dick’s to rub against each other in such an amazing way. Your pussy was incredibly damp due to your arousal mixed with the other men’s cum. Unfortunately, your body was spent, and your thighs burned from Sukuna railing you on your feet earlier. Most of the energy you had was spent on the other men.

You brought your lips to Inumaki’s and kissed him feverishly, “My legs are tired, can you and Yuuta take control?” You asked sweetly.

“Shake,” Toge said affirmatively, he then secured his hands around your waist while Yuuta did the same. Both men lifted you together and then dropped you back down onto their cocks. Feeling them slide back into you sent shivers of delight to run down all of your spines.

“Oh, yes!” You moaned out in adoration, you accidentally cast your gaze past Toge and to Megumi who sat diagonal from you guys. Fushiguro eyed you with acceptance while he and Kamo chatted nonchalantly. You glanced over at Noritoshi, who had a more hungry look on his face. Yuji stared your way with a captivated look in his eyes. While Satoru, leaned back on the couch comfortably, keeping his brilliant blue eyes on you. You amazed him at how skilled you were at taking their dicks. Muta who sat beside Yuuta, had a flushed look on his face, especially because of how close he was to the action. He felt a small sting of jealousy and wanted to be one of the guys inside of you.

You felt Yuuta sneak his hands up your torso and grab ahold of your soft and bouncy breasts. He always loved feeling your boobs. Whenever the two of you would cuddle he’d find a way to hold them sweetly. Both men continued to pump into you simultaneously, each thrust more powerful than the last. You found yourself lost in Inumaki’s captivating gaze, he drew you in almost hypnotically.

“Mmh, both of you feel… so… good.” You whined out between their synced thrusts.

Inumaki felt that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. The combination of your slick and tight heat alongside the friction against Yuuta’s dick inside you, was more than heavenly. He pulled you closer and crashed his lips against yours passionately. Toge brought one of his hands up to your hair and gently tugged your luscious locks to deepen the kiss.

Yuuta was in love with how amazing you felt; so saturated and tight, he could stay here forever if you let him. The unique sensation of his lengthy rod rubbing against his friend Inumaki’s was just as pleasurable. He felt honored that he was able to share you so intimately with his best friend. Each time Yuuta shoved his dick into you while Inumaki did, he could tell that he was going to bust soon.

“Inumaki, I don’t think- ahh I can last any longer.” Yuuta groaned out anxiously, sure enough, their timer would be up soon.

“Shake-“ Toge shuddered, his eyebrows narrowed in concentration as he continuously shoved himself inside you.

Yuuta and Toge began to plow you down onto their hot dicks with incredible force. Your pussy couldn’t take any more of it, and you weren’t sure if you were able to cum again. All you could do was whine and babble uncontrollably while they shared you.

“So… mmh. Keep going! Ahh…” you sputtered out, lost in pure ecstasy.

Suddenly, the timer went off, but it fell silent to you three. “Cum.” Inumaki stated while he and Yuuta pushed themselves balls deep in you.

Your forced orgasm hit you hard and your pussy pulsated around both rods inside you. You felt your release drench their dicks in the most appetizing way. Yuuta and Toge released themselves in vigorous squirts, each man held you close to them as they rode out their waves of pleasure. Their cum mixed as one, as they shot their streams of milky liquid into you.

They held you for a brief moment, letting you catch your breath as they did the same. You felt like a limp rag doll and exhaustion quickly overwhelmed you. You tried to maneuver yourself off of your boyfriends, but it felt as if your legs were jello.

Satoru picked up on that and swiftly pulled you up and off of them. Once he did a waterfall of everyone’s cum fell down your thighs, it felt hot and sticky. There was such an abundant amount of release in you that when Gojo carried you down, you heard a few splats fall onto his marble floor. He set you on his lap and draped your tired legs off onto Yuji.

Inumaki removed himself from Yuuta’s lap and began to wipe himself off with Gojo’s blue complimentary towel.

“You’ve got me captivated more than you can imagine,” Satoru murmured against your forehead.

You smiled hazily, but you were too tired to respond. You rested your head on his muscular chest and breathed in his comforting scent. The room around you began to fade away and the quiet conversations amongst the other males felt distant. Sleep quickly grabbed a hold of you and your dreams were peaceful.

Little did you know, the following month you’d miss your period.

[thewertsearch]

UU: hello there, darling. ~3u GT: Ahoy madame! UU: i dont relish troUbling yoU with more arm twisting. UU: im sUre for all ive done so far yoUve had a jolly good workoUt already :u UU: bUt yoU will be ready to deliver the package today, yes?

So Umbra was the arm-twister.

She's the reason that Jack ascended, way back in Act 4. I have to assume she's aware of the ramifications of what she's done, which means she wanted Perfect Jack to happen - or at the very least, she allowed it to happen, as a side-effect of her true goal.

GT: Theres the matter of the rabbits armaments. GT: I dont imagine hell do a lot of friggin good in helping grandfather crocker from kicking the old bucket without them. GT: Did you not say youd supply these? UU: i did indeed say so! UU: and have already done. […] UU: in yoUr fUtUre. UU: i relayed the information enabling yoU to create the powerfUl weaponry yoUrself.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Those weapons have all been seen before, and we already know the gun was supplied by Eridan, in a conversation with pre-Scratch Jade. If Umbra has managed to get her hands on its code, she must have had some contact with the Jade we know.

...well, I guess she doesn't necessarily have to talk to Jade. She could just have captcharoided a ghost image of the gun, if she knew where to look.

GT: So much to do before shuttling this goddamn thing into the past. […] GT: That is what im doing right? Giving it to my grandma when she was a kid growing up on the same island i did? UU: that is somewhat close to the trUth, and i can see how yoU woUld draw that conclUsion. UU: bUt theres more to it yoU dont Understand yet! yoU will sort it all oUt in time. […] UU: it woUldnt hUrt yoU mUch to know the trUth, i imagine. UU: its jUst the trUth is a wee bit complicated.

Explaining the Scratch to Jake would be a pretty tall order - but at the same time, it seems like Umbra is hiding a lot of information from the Players she's talking to. She clearly knows more than they do, so why won't she lay her cards on the table?

UU: imagine two Universes, A and B. UU: now imagine there are two instances of each Universe, A1 and A2 and B1 and B2. UU: the first instance of each is like a test rUn, that does not qUite sUcceed. UU: the second instance thoUgh will meet all of its pUrposes!

I don't know if I'd call A2 a 'success', to be honest. I'm pretty sure that's Karkat's session, and Karkat's session was a bit of a disaster.

I suppose it depends on whose perspective we're talking about. Maybe, from UU's perspective, the troll session did meet all of its 'purposes' - it's just that its purposes didn't include creating a healthy universe.

[eeksburner]

(PART 1) The way to a man's heart...

Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x SAHW!Reader Fluff

(Note: I fear my "wife" fics are fairly liked among some people and I'm a girl whose love language is making food for loved ones, so here this is. I guess this is too long for one post, so this will be a multi-part series, stay tuned for updates)

Not proofread

Food is the way to many hearts, but it was more than that for you and Simon. You always had an affinity for cooking, baking, and for food in general. It was no secret that food was the most prominent love language in your family. It was how you said "congratulations", "I'm sorry", and every other emotion you could think of. You had been cooking since you could sit upright on the counter, your family members having you taste whatever was on the stove and asking what you thought it needed. As you grew up and your skills developed, you used it as a way to celebrate life and love with others. Something about deliberately picking out the best ingredients, spending time and skills to make the dish, and making sure it was perfect before sharing it always spoke to you. Food was everything to you. Until you saw your neighbor from across the street moving in. You had moved into your own little place, working a job that you didn't mind and that paid the bills. You were enjoying a perfect breakfast you had made when you suddenly heard the boisterous voices of men outside. You took a peek outside your window to see what was going on and it was like the man you saw reached into your lungs and stole the air within them. Your face suddenly felt hot and your hands never itched more to start on a fresh batch of brown butter chocolate chip cookies. Suddenly a stalker, you kept staring at the large, quiet man with a skull mask on. It wasn't until he got tired of your staring from his peripheral and looked back at you that you stepped out of sight from the window and regained your breath. Unbeknownst to you, the second Simon saw rustling from the corner of his eye, he noticed you staring from the window. He smirked a little under the mask, what a pretty thing...he thought. Simon kept unpacking his things with Soap and Gaz, quietly contributing to the conversation every now and again, but his mind was thinking about how cute you looked standing there peeking at him. You ran back to your kitchen sink, food cold and forgotten, and rinsed your face with cold water. You rushed to get everything ready for the cookies, hands shaking slightly. It took you a few hours to finish the cookies and you didn't hear any more of the men in the street. While the cookies were chilling in the fridge you took the liberty of showering and getting pretty for him ready to meet your new neighbor. Your container of cookies was adorned with a bow and a card that had your name and phone number. It was only in case he needed something, of course. You took a deep breath and walked across the street to your neighbor's house. A shaky hand knocked on the door and you waited for him to answer. It only took a minute before a tall, hulking man was standing in front of you. You were caught off guard by him still having his mask on, you assumed he wore it outside as a sunguard. Your face immediately felt hot again and when he said, "Hello," in his thick accent and deep voice you almost squeaked. "Um, hi. I saw you moving in and thought I would introduce myself. My name is y/n. I made you some cookies as a 'welcome' gift. There's a note with my name and number if you need anything," you shoved the box into his hands before you could embarrass yourself and quickly walked back into your house. You slammed the door shut behind yourself and leaned against it. How could you be so stupid? You didn't even get his name. Simon smiled as he watched you walk back to your place. Both the scent of the cookies and the sweetness you displayed made his cheeks flush. Normally girls would avoid him for fear of their safety or rejection, but within the span of 3 hours, you made him cookies and introduced yourself to him. It had been a few days since you gave your neighbor the cookies, but your phone had no new numbers and your house had no new guests. You were walking into your house after a shift when you noticed a note shoved in your door frame.

To be continued...

[stayteezdreams]

White Elephant

Plot: Your friends decided to switch up the rules to your game of White Elephant. Instead of winning a mystery gift. You go on a date with someone else in the circle.

Pairing: Chwe Hansol | Vernon x Gn!Reader

Note: White Elephant is a game you play by using gifts (each player usually brings one, so only you know what is inside). Whoever goes first (however order is decided) picks a present, each following person has the choice to either steal someone else's present, or pick a new one. Whoever's present is stolen can then either pick a new one, or steal one. Each present can only be stolen three times. Whichever present you end up with at the end of the game is the one you get. *rules may change depending on how you want to play, these are just the ones I know.

A/N: I loved the idea I had for this, but I kind of hate how it came out, especially the ending. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Words: ~3.5k

As you said goodbye to a few of your friends as they left, you thought to yourself when a good moment for you to excuse yourself for the night would come. You had been at your friends’ party for a few hours now and you could feel the exhaustion starting to sink in.

You had your fill of Christmas themed food, desserts and drinks. Sang along to an obnoxious amount of Christmas songs, and even won second place in the ugly sweater competition.

You were thoroughly Christmas-ed out.

"Okay! One more game!!" The host called out, and you let out a soft sigh, you had waited a bit too long. You guess you would leave after this game, whatever it might be.

"Since we had a couple-centered game earlier, now is time for the singles game!"

'Actually, maybe I should leave now.'

You and one of your closest friends Vernon shared a look across the room. This would be something neither of you would enjoy and you knew it.

Raising your hand, your friend acknowledged you as you spoke with an amused, yet meek tone. "Can I be excused?"

She frowned and shook her head, "Nope."

You sighed as you hung your head, earning laughs from everyone around you. But your ears only really noticed Vernon's familiar chuckle.

She clapped her hands as she started to pass out identical note cards. "Write your name and then fold it three times."

You frowned, but did as you were told, wondering more and more about what she had planned as she walked around with a hat to collect the names.

"Though the game might sound familiar, the results will be different. White Elephant."

There were murmurs and questions throughout the room. There would be a total of 12 people playing.

"We'll play it like a normal game of White Elephant, but instead of presents, it’s your names."

"And what happens with the name we get?" Your friend Joshua spoke up.

Your friend grinned and you felt your chest tighten. "You must go on a date with the person you have written on your card at the end of the night!"

Your mouth fell open as others laughed, protested, gasped, or even gagged jokingly.

As they quieted down, your friend continued. "Unless two people end up getting each other's names, which is very unlikely, you have the chance to go on two dates! With the person whose name you choose, and the person who chooses you! And who knows, you might find your soulmate!" Her voice had a sing-song tone to it as she spoke.

"What if we end up with our own name?"

"Then I will buy you an expensive gift!" She said quickly, which earns some 'oohs' from the crowd. Quickly she added on, "And if you don't take the person you choose on a date... you have to buy them an expensive gift!"

Looking over at Vernon, he seemed to sense your gaze as he met your eyes. He raised his brow and you both seemed to know what the other was feeling. This could get very awkward.

Out of the twelve people playing, you were friends with six, the other five were strangers. And out of the other eleven people, there was only one you could see yourself wanting to date, and that was Vernon himself.

You had been friends for ages and had feelings for him for nearly as long. And those feelings were something you had become an expert in repressing. But something that helped was that he never had any lasting relationships. You wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't deny the hurt and jealousy you felt whenever he dated someone. So as guilty as it made you, you couldn't help but feel relief when the relationships ended.

But now, with this game, you had to see Vernon go on a date with two people. Luckily for you, the chances of him getting one of his best friends was decently high. But there was also the small chance he could end up with your name, or you could end up with his.

The thought made your ears grow hot, so you quickly shooed the thought away.

As the game began, you ended up going fourth in line. Instead of stealing, you decided to choose a new name from the hat. As you refiled through them, you waited until you felt you had a good pick.

Sitting back down, you had a weird feeling that you needed to keep your card. Though you figured it was just your sense of challenge piquing at the idea that someone might steal it from you.

While the game went on, your original pick was stolen twice, one more time and it couldn't be taken any more. You feared someone else might take it before you, but luckily, your final turn came, and you took back the original note you picked from the hat.

When Vernon's turn came, he decided to remain with his choice, one he decided early on to take from Jun after his own was stolen. When someone took it from him, he took it back, seemingly feeling as though it was the one he was meant to have as well.

When the game was over, people murmured nervously, as everyone began to reveal the names on their notes. Mingyu ended up with the name of one of the people you didn't know, while Hoshi ended up with Mingyu's name. Something only one of them was excited about.

Jun ended up with the name of someone in the circle you knew he had a crush on, and you silently cheered him on while sharing knowing looks with Vernon and Joshua.

When it was your turn, you nervously opened the note, hoping if anyone it was one of your friends. That was you wouldn't have to go on a date with a stranger.

Opening the note, so the name was facing the crowd, just as the others did. Joshua laughed with something akin to excitement, before you looked at the note.

'Vernon'

"Oh-" You looked up and met Vernon's gaze, he looked shocked but happy as he repressed a grin.

You let out a soft laugh, playing along with everyone's disappointment that you got your best friend’s name. Picking up on a "But they hang out all the time already!" From a familiar voice nearby.

No one except a couple of people, Joshua included, knew about your long-hidden feelings.

Vernon gave you a thumbs up and you rolled your eyes at him, both glad and uneasy that you picked his name. If anything, to avoid the subtle heartbreak that would fill you, you could just call your "date" a hang-out. Just like you usually do.

You purposefully avoided looking at Joshua, knowing he would give you a look that would just make you more nervous.

As the others revealed their names, you couldn't seem to focus, as you held your own paper tightly in your hands. How was it that the paper you seemed so determined to keep, that felt like it was supposed to be the one you got, was Vernon's?

"Alright Vernon, your turn!"

Your eyes shot up as you came back to reality, your heart racing as your chest tightened. You weren't paying attention, had someone already gotten your name? There were only a few people left after Vernon. You had been worried about who Vernon would be going out with that you forgot about your own risk in this.

As he opened his note, facing himself first, you saw his lips tug up into a smile before he let out a chuckle. Turning the paper around, you saw your familiar handwriting. You sat up in shock as others got overly excited about the coincidence.

Joshua covered his mouth with his hand as he repressed the biggest grin he could make. Vernon looked at you and gave you an exaggerated look with another thumbs up.

"It must be fate!" Your friend called out, unknowingly making your heartbeat increase as you felt a bit uneasy.

Was it fate? A cruel joke? Just a coincidence? Either way, you were sure if you should he happy or upset. Now you had to go on two dates with Vernon? Or was it still just one? Or would you just buy each other gifts and call it even?

Getting lost in your thoughts again, you weren't aware the game ended until people started standing and walking over to speak with the people they got as their mystery date.

Seeing Hoshi chase after Mingyu as he ran away, you let out a soft scoff before spotting Vernon moving to sit beside you. Your chest tightened as you put on your best smile, trying not to show him how the stupid game affected you.

"So." He said as he sat down, and you eyed him with a smile.

"So?" You repeated in a similar tone.

"What shall we do for our dates?"

You really hoped the way his question affected you didn't show on your face as you forced out a chuckle.

"What, you don't want me to buy you an expensive gift instead?"

He smiled but shook his head as he leaned back on the couch. "Nah, I'd rather go do something fun."

'Just another hang out' You told yourself.

"Like what?"

He hummed, "I don't know yet. How about we combine out two dates into one, and you pick something for us to do in the morning and I'll pick something for the evening."

Your heart was pounding as you nodded your head, the word 'date' continuously repeating in your head.

You nodded softly as you rose, "Okay."

He furrowed his brow, "Are you leaving?"

You nodded, trying to repress a yawn. "Yeah, I wanna leave before she starts another game."

Thinking about it for a second, Vernon nodded in agreement as he rose as well. "Good idea."

After turning down Vernon's offer to escort you back home, you waited together for your Uber. Seeing him frown at his phone you smiled softly. "What are you looking at?"

He spoke softly without looking up. "Date ideas."

You laughed but felt your chest clench. "You don't have to keep calling it a date."

Vernon looked up and you missed the look on his face as your Uber pulled in. As you waited for them to pull up to you, you looked back at Vernon, "Let me know what day you want to hang out okay?"

As you climbed in, Vernon grabbed the door, leaning in to speak to you. "Why do you call it a hang out?"

"Huh?" Your heart skipped a beat, "Well, I figured- I mean- what, do you actually want it to be a date?"

He nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeah. We're going on a date."

"Like an actual date?" You forced a laugh as you tried to keep yourself collected, confusion overwhelming you.

Vernon grinned at your perplexed look as he nodded again. "Yes. We're going on an actual date Y/n."

As you were about to protest and question him more, he smiled at the Uber driver before winking at you and closing the door.

"But-" you muttered to yourself, heart pounding as you tried to figure out what was happening.

Why did he want to make it a date? Just to appease the game results? Or did he actually want to go on a date with you?

You sighed as you leaned your head back, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to make sense of your muddled thoughts. Should you text him? Find out how he was feeling?

As if reading your mind, your phone buzzed with a message from Vernon.

Opening it, you held your breath.

'Let's do our date on Saturday, okay? That should give us enough time to plan something each.'

Another buzz

'And yes, it's an actual date in case you were still wondering. I've been wanting to ask you for a while but kept chickening out. But I guess it was meant to happen with or without me manning up.'

You stared down at your phone stunned, mouth agape. Your mind seemed to be in a fog for the rest of the evening. Mixtures of confusion, panic, elation and anxiety came over you again and again.

What you thought was going to be a normal hang out was turning into an actual first date.

It seemed surreal. Vernon had been wanting to ask you out?? For a while?? How had you never noticed his feelings were the same as yours? Did your own feelings make you blind to his? Did he have any idea how you felt?

Sleep refused to take you as your thoughts raced all night. You had never replied to Vernon, let alone thought of a date idea.

Those panicked thoughts would come the next day. But for now, you were too busy staring up at your ceiling, wondering how things changed so quickly.

You let out a long breath as you stared out at the streets around you. Since the night of the Christmas party, it had snowed a few times, leaving the outdoors blanketed in soft snow.

It was the day of your date with Vernon and your nerves were almost unbearable.

Over the last few days, you and Vernon had talked through text only, and he had teased you almost relentlessly for your constant confusion of actually going on a date together.

Giving in and deciding to go with it, accepting whatever was going to come. You picked the arcade as your first part of the date. Something Vernon agreed happily too.

It was one of the first things you did together after you met. You had met through Josh and become close after hanging out at an arcade as a group, it seemed to bond the two of you, and you had been nearly inseparable since. It seemed fitting that you go to the same arcade years later, on your first date.

It was decided you would have lunch afterwards, and then you would go to Vernon's chosen activity, ice skating, which you hadn't done in a long time. Your main hope was to not embarrass yourself.

Lost in thought you didn't notice Vernon getting out of an Uber nearby and creeping up to you. He had a wide smile on his face as he jumped forward, grabbing you with a "Boo!!" making you gasp and jump back.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes as Vernon laughed. Reaching out and smacking his shoulder, you almost forgot you had been nervous, up until you met his gaze and noticed his smile, it seemed softer than usual.

You swallowed nervously as you shoved your hands into your pockets. Vernon could see your new reservation around him, and he repressed a smile.

He was afraid, no matter how much he insisted he wanted to go on an actual date with you, that part of you thought he was joking. He needed to make sure you understood what was happening.

Your breath caught in your throat as Vernon reached out, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and pulling you forward. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugged you tightly, leaning his head against yours.

Stunned, you hesitated in hugging him in return, but gently rested your hands on his back.

Vernon smiled as he spoke, "Let's get this out of the way. I don't want you thinking all day that this is some cruel joke or something." Pulling back, he looked at you with a soft gaze. "I like you. I have for a while, probably even longer than I realize. No matter how much I wanted to ask you out, I kept talking myself out of it. But I won’t anymore, not when the chance was practically handed to me."

You swallowed nervously as your heart pounded and butterflies filled your stomach. "You like me?"

He nodded and you let out a soft scoff, unknowingly causing Vernon's chest to clench in panic. Up until you smiled brightly at him, "I like you too."

"You do?"

You nodded and he chuckled, shaking his head and sighing before he pulled you into a hug again making you let out a soft laugh. "I guess we have a lot to make up for then, huh?"

The next couple hours felt like a dream. The anxiety you felt leading up to your date seemed to vanish. Being with Vernon felt like breathing, it was the most natural thing in the world. And it turned out, being a couple was too.

There was no reservation, or discomfort when he hugged you from behind after you pouted about losing a game to him. Or when he spun you around in a hug after you won a game you had always lost, it felt normal, it felt right.

When he gently removed an eyelash from your cheek, the flushing of your cheeks only encouraged him to lean in and press a kiss on your cheek.

Nothing felt so natural to Vernon than the way his fingers intertwined with yours. Holding your hand felt so familiar, and perfect, he was disappointed he had to wait so long to do it.

The day seemed to fly by as you sat on the bench with your pair of rented ice skates.

You looked out nervously at the rink as a sense of nostalgia rushed over you.

"It's been a while since you've skated right?"

You nodded, "Wonder if I'll be any good anymore."

"I hope not, I don't want to be the only one to embarrass myself out there."

You chuckled as you began putting your skates on, stopping as Vernon kneeled down and helped tie them. You smiled as you watched him, butterflies fluttering through your stomach.

Tapping your leg when he was done, he quickly put his own skates on before you both nervously made your way out onto the ice.

Though your legs felt like a newborn fawn's the first few minutes, you slowly leaned into the familiarity of the motions. Soon enough you were gliding around with ease. All the while Vernon was gliding slightly hunched over and bow-legged behind you.

Looking back, you almost lost your balance from the laugh that escaped. Turning to stop, Vernon grimaced as he came to a rough stop, grabbing your arms for support as he did.

"Are you sure you're having fun?"

He nodded. "I'm just getting used to it still, I'm good."

You chuckled again as you took his hands and began gliding, dragging him along with you to help him get his "sea legs". It definitely helped, as after a few minutes he was no longer hunched over, and his legs were much straighter.

"Yeah! There you go!" You laughed as you let him go, as both of you skated side by side.

He had a wide grin on his face that made your heart flutter.

Skating around the rink, you slowly got more and more confident with your skills, as did Vernon.

Spotting Vernon across the rink, leaning against the wall watching you, he waved, and you grinned at him before making your way to him.

As you got closer, Vernon reached out his arms to help you glide to a stop, rather than slamming into the wall. As he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you as you skidded to a stop, you looked into his eyes with a giggle and grin that made his heart flutter.

Your eyes remained locked as held you, before he brought his gloved hand to your face and gently cupped your cheek. As he began leaning closer, you held your breath.

"I'm sorry it took so long for this to happen."

Before you could reply, his lips met yours. The kiss was still for a second as he waited for you to kiss him in return, afraid he might have done it too soon.

Grabbing the collar of his jacket, you leaned in to react, leading Vernon to pull you a bit closer and deepen the kiss even more.

As he pulled away a few moments later, you grinned at each other in bashful amusement. As he adjusted your hat, he let out a soft laugh before he met your eyes.

"Just to make sure. We are dating now, right?"

You laughed before you nodded happily. "Yes, we are dating now Vernon."

He nodded, "Good." Cupping the back of your head, he pulled you into another kiss with a renewed excitement as you wrapped your arms around his neck in return.

Both of you knew this was truly meant to be, and there was no longer any point in wishing it had happened sooner. Because it was happening now, and it was perfect.

xx End xx

I hate ending stories, it's so haaard.

((Taglist Form))

12 Days of Christmas Taglist: @multi-fandommaniac, @mbruben-stein

General Taglist: @charmsprout, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,

@shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie, @alexxavicry

Seventeen Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn, @dancinglikebutterflywings Vernon: @lieutenantn

[1hot-mess-express1]

I just read your Toge not saying I love you out of fear of making reader a curse should they die and I wanna 1 up you, what if he said it while they were dying? Or like on their death bed when they're like old and grey because the guilt of not actually saying momentarily like, eats him up and he says it without thinking? Or he goes to and reader stops him and just has that look that says they know and instead reader says this sappy stuff about how they've always felt loved by him and that they always noticed His efforts to show how much he loved them.

Feel free to ignore this btw, it was just something thats been jumping around my head as of late. I hope you have a lovely week!!

-🎃💫

Any Last Words?

Toge X reader

Angst w/comfort

W.C: 1567

Synopsis: Toge is left gravely injured after the Shibuya incident and he finds himself reflecting

A/N: So sorry lovely Anon I have no idea how long this has just been chilling in my inbox but I saw this and fell in love w/ the concept immediately, this is a little rushed but I really wanted to get this done before life got too busy again

As a sorcerer, death is a constant companion—always lurking, always watching, waiting patiently to swoop in and remind you that no matter how powerful you are, she’s the one holding all the cards. Toge was no exception. He could vividly recall clinging to his father's pant leg, peeking around at the men in suits whose large frames cast menacing shadows over them. They were hunting down the alleged cursed speech user, warning his father that this child was dangerous, a threat to society—this child needed to be eliminated. If his father were a good man, they said, he would cooperate.

“A child who has inherited cursed speech can manipulate the world around them. If a child with this technique were to yell ‘no’ at you, you would have no choice but to comply; your body would freeze up, and you wouldn’t be able to move. They likely aren’t strong enough yet to cause real harm, but you see why we need to eliminate this threat early.” The man in front of them adjusts his glasses, peering straight through a trembling Toge.

“Of course, sir, I’d love to help you with this, but as you may have guessed, I don’t see many children other than my own, and unfortunately, this little guy is mute. He hasn’t spoken a word since the day he was born.” Toge’s father ruffles his hair lightly as Toge buries his face deeper into his sweater.

The man stares through Toge one last time before his gaze flickers up, and he breaks into a tight, uncomfortable smile. “Right then, we’ll be on our way. If you hear anything, don’t hesitate to give us a call. We wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” He hands over his business card and walks away.

That night, Toge meets Gojo sensei for the first time. His father told him this man would take him somewhere safe, that he wouldn’t have to be afraid, and that he could help others with his gift. That reassurance did little to quell the tears welling up in his eyes. He wanted to stay, to keep pretending just a little longer, but it was time to grow up. The world lost some of its wonder that night as he clutched the hand of a stranger, fighting back tears as his father waved him off with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

From that day on, his life became a constant reminder of the cruelty of his new world. Corpses littered the scenes of curse sightings, and teachers, supervisors, and even students sometimes wouldn’t make it home from missions. He watched from the sidelines as their loved ones mourned and then returned to school as if nothing had happened. It was hard not to become detached from your own life when it could be lost in an instant.

Then there was you. A second-grade at best, from a line of non-sorcerers. The horrors of this world never seemed to touch you. You always smiled and laughed, enjoying the life you were given. For a moment, Toge thought you were naive. He was sure you didn’t realize the horrors lurking around every corner, ready to pounce and tear everything from you.

When you received word that Yuji had died, you wept, embarrassingly so, for someone you had never met. You cried openly, tears streaming, snot running down your nose as you wailed like a child. He stood there, stunned by the raw display of grief, and you left him little time to process it before you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. You spoke of how young Yuji was, how much he had ahead of him; you wept for his friends, his family, all the lives he was meant to touch. Toge doesn’t remember when he started crying, but his face burns as tears roll down onto the top of your head. He doesn’t know why, but he clutches you tightly and cries freely for possibly the first time in his life.

A breathy laugh escapes him as he recalls the memory of you sniffling into his shoulder, much like you are now. He winces in pain as the gentle laugh wreaks havoc on his injured body. He tries to wrap an arm around your head, to run his fingers through your hair, to comfort you and reassure you he’s okay, but nothing happens. Right, he lost that arm just hours ago. At this realization, another laugh roils through his stomach, and he can’t hold it back this time, choking on the pain as his body shakes in your arms.

It was never supposed to be like this. He was supposed to come home in one piece, ready to cook dinner with you and the others in the dorm. You would scold him for being reckless and dote on him as you haphazardly administered medicine. He was supposed to lie with you on the couch, eyes heavy, his hand tracing through your hair while a movie flickered around them, lighting the otherwise empty room.

This time, he allows himself to cry freely, clutching you impossibly closer as he wails like a child, mourning everything that should have been, all the things that could have been. You lean back slightly at his sudden outburst, cradling his face in your hands, brushing his bloodied hair out of his eyes. He doesn’t expect the soft smile gracing your features as you stare back into his eyes. How could you smile at a time like this? He had let you down, he could have died, and he was moments from abandoning you here, whether he wanted to or not.

You place a chaste kiss on his forehead, the warmth of your lips lingering against his cold, clammy skin. The gesture is so gentle, so filled with affection, that it catches him off guard. For a moment, the world around him fades—no pain, no fear, just the softness of your touch grounding him in the present. You pull his head into yours, your foreheads pressed together, and he can feel your breath mixing with his, shallow and uneven. It’s too much. He can’t breathe, his chest tightening as the weight of his emotions threatens to suffocate him.

He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as if that could block out the reality of the situation, as if it could shield him from the intensity of your gaze. He knows if he looks at you, really looks at you, he’ll see the depth of your love and concern etched into your features, and he doesn’t know if he can bear it. How can you look at him like that, with such unwavering trust and devotion, after everything that’s happened? After all he’s lost, after all he’s failed to protect? The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting.

“I-I…,” he starts, but the words catch in his throat, choked by the guilt knotting there, making it harder to breathe with each passing moment. He closes his mouth, trying to steady his nerves, but instead, he feels your lips on his, warm and gentle.

You kiss him with no urgency, as if your life is guaranteed, as if you aren’t in a hospital room. No, you kiss him, and he’s transported back to his dorm, the breeze carrying the gentle glow of the afternoon sun through the room, and he can smell the remnants of your shampoo as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. He’s home, he’s safe, and he’s loved unconditionally.

When you break away, you reach up to hold his face in your hands, running your thumb over his curse marks. Those marks, once symbols of his power and burden, now seem almost fragile under your tender caress.

You lean in, your voice barely above a whisper, the words carrying a weight that transcends the simplicity of their meaning: “I love you too.” The sincerity in your voice cuts through the layers of doubt and fear that have wrapped themselves around his heart. He feels a surge of emotions—relief, gratitude, love—all mingling together, overwhelming in their intensity.

He can’t help it—the boyish smile that breaks across his face is instinctive, almost involuntary. It’s the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, lighting them up with a glimmer of hope buried under the weight of his doubt. In that moment, everything else falls away. The wounds, the battles, the relentless weight of his responsibilities—they all seem distant, insignificant compared to the simple truth of your words.

His resolve solidifies, a quiet determination burning within him. He might not be able to express his feelings in words, but he vowed to spend the rest of his life showing you, in every way possible, just how deeply he loved you. He would make it his mission to always come home to you—to listen to you animatedly recount your day, your eyes sparkling with excitement over the smallest details. He would continue to bring your favorite snacks, the ones that always made you smile, and remember the little things, like moving the sheets into the dryer on Saturdays.

As long as he lived, he would fight to return to you, day after day, because each time he walked through that door and saw you waiting for him, it was a victory—a promise kept. And maybe, just maybe, one day, when the time was right, he would…

[mulletmitsuya]

Toman Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, the topic of sex is brought up a lot, mentions of the r word (i don't actually say it i just say "r word"), gayness, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, teenage boys. also snuck in a lot of personal headcanons so that might not be your thing

Desc: Mikey lost his V-card

Mikey: just had the sex

Mikey: it's not all that, tbh

Mikey: i didn't like it

Mikey: i was quite indifferent to the situation actually

Mitsuya: that's great 👍

Smiley: you're the last one to lose your v-card and you come back with a report like this?😒

Smiley: we want details

Draken: whose we?

Mitsuya: no we don't

Chifuyu: it must have been difficult tackling the whole issue with you being 5'3 and all

Mikey: you're an inch taller than me😐

Chifuyu: "taller" being the key word

Baji: what didn't you like about the sex?

Baji: i think sex is great

Kazutora: i think it's super nice until you get in over your head and freak out about your performance so you end up having a panic attack and she just leaves

Smiley: LMAOOOOOO

Draken: that's actually kinda sad, you good?

Kazutora: no? i'll never emotionally recover. never again

Baji: maybe it should be with someone you trust and have been friends with for a number of years. maybe even your best friend who would do anything for you. that's just my opinion tho

Draken: just tell him ffs. anything but this

Kazutora: i have no girl friends?? the only women i know who're affiliated with this friendgroup are hina (taken), emma (mikey's sister and also taken), and yuzuha (gay)

Baji: why does it have to be a girl

Mikey: bro

Hakkai: 💀

Smiley: mention homosexuality once and here Hakkai comes

Hakkai: 😐

Kazutora: Baji i know you're gay and i support your lgbtq+ lifestyle but i'm not into dicks like you are man

Baji: what about assholes

Mitsuya: what's the point of this, like just ask him out atp

Mikey: you'd let KAZUTORA top???? insane

Kazutora: what's wrong with me topping? also who am i topping??

Smiley: well you're a twink so you're obviously a bottom

Chifuyu: Kazutora are you actually just gonna ignore what everyone else is saying

Kazutora: aren't you guys talking to Baji?

Draken: are you stupid or what

Kazutora: i'm really confused rn can we just to back to talking about Mikey

Mikey: yes actually. i've decided that i don't like sex and won't be doing it again

Chifuyu: bad day for Takemitchy

Takemitchy: what?

Chifuyu: well since you ride his dick so much

Takemitchy: HUH

Takemitchy: i've never done that with Mikey-kun tho??? i'm with Hina? also I'm straight so I don't understand what you mean by that 😥

Chifuyu: i don't actually mean-

Chifuyu: nvm

Baji: are we allowed to call people the r word anymore

Angry: no it's a slur

Baji: you're probably mad because people said it to you huh? lmao

Angry: yes

Baji: oh

Smiley: i didn't even mean it Angry it was just that one time

Angry: several, one times. but okay

Angry: i still love you

Smiley: can you not say that in front of our friends like idk what to do rn cause i can't say it back so it looks embarssing for you

Angry: 😕

Smiley: ...

Angry: ☹️

Smiley: i love you too

Angry: thank you

Chifuyu: very rare Smiley human decency moment

Draken: you guys are such weird siblings but that was great to watch. character development in a matter of seconds

Smiley: you should all kill yourselves

Mikey: man i really want to

Mikey: that was a literal joke before you guys get weird

Draken: you've actively tried to kill yourself tho

Mikey: yeah but like i won't do it anymore

Baji: we must just, believe you?

Mikey: i know that's hard to do because i lie all the time but yes

Draken: not a convincing argument but nice try

Mitsuya: terrible try actually. Mikey should we be worried?

Mikey: miss me with that gay shit, i'm fine

Mitsuya: i hate you guys so much

Draken: not me tho cause i'm your og

Mitsuya: 😐

Mitsuya: yeah i guess

Draken: 🤞

Draken: i'm gonna go out with my girlfriend now

Draken: also Mikey you're probably asexual. or you haven't found the right one to do it with yet idk

Mikey: what's asexual

Draken: google it

Mikey: Ken-chin c'mon i'm having a crisis rn

Draken: basically low or very little sexual attraction to others

Draken: there's a whole spectrum to it tho so you should probably do some research because that was an extremely watered down explanation

Draken: i'm ace too if that helps

Baji: Emma's a whole ass slut so how does she deal with that

Smiley: imagine bagging Ryuguji Ken with his sexy ass and he doesn't wanna smash. tragic

Draken: first of all, Baji i'll fucking kill you, never say that about Emma again

Draken: and fuck you Smiley

Angry: are you traumatized because of living in a sex orientated/obsessed environment so you eventually began to detest any affiliation with the act?

Draken: yes actually

Angry: i see

Mikey: i just don't like it. i'm not traumatized like Ken-chin :(

Draken: it's whatever

Baji: calm down i didn't call Emma a slut as an insult i just mean it as a describing word because she likes fucking

Baji: i've known her longer than you and she's been fucking since she knew what the thing was

Mikey: i probably should have addressed that as an older brother or something

Mikey: yk, cause i take care of my family

Baji: now she takes care of you with your chronically depressed ass

Mikey: 😒

Kazutora: is Emma also traumatized? like the opposite of Draken?

Mikey: wait should i ask?? her mom did abandon her and she did grow up without a father figure so like maybe i should talk to her

Smiley: you didn't have to dish out her problems like that 💀

Baji: she's got the Sano slut genes because wasn't Shinichiro falling in love with different people everyday? then your dad was impregnating people all the time. skipped Mikey tho

Draken: not everything is trauma related. also Emma just likes sex. it's not a huge deal breaker and if it was she would tell me and we'd talk about it

Mikey: what about having kids?

Draken: stop asking me this shit we'll do that when we're ready

Smiley: it's crazy how Draken is one of the healthiest people here. always reacting sensibly to situations and dealing with his trauma normally. he's such a good guy. hate him

Draken: love you too

Mikey: did he deal with it all that healthily if he beats people to a pulp most of the time

Draken: i stopped doing that

Baji: why though, you were an actual unit

Baji: wasted talent. i still beat people up

Draken: Emma said to

Mikey: fair

Smiley: Mitsuya could be on Draken's level too but something went wrong along the way cause he's a boy liker

Mitsuya: 🖕

[omagpies]

No way! Another person who has spent way too much time on apex! Who's your main? I'm guessing BH but I don't want to assume. How did you feel about the BH/Fuse engagement? Do you have any heirlooms? Sorry, not very many people play apex on here.

Also, do you have any apex art? If not that's totally cool but I would love to see it!

you have activated my trap card!! many drawings ahead

my main is indeed bloodhound. i also whip out fuse, mirage, and to a lesser degree octane, but mostly i'm a one trick bloodhound. they were what got me into the game in the first place back in season 7 when i heard their 'i'm afraid of heights :(' voicelines (a cool hunter nonbinary character voiced by none other than allegra clark? sign me tf up), and even though i am Very Bad At Shooting and don't actually like battle royale-type games apex stayed my brainrot for over two years. the brainrot is definitely over now and these days i play it as a social thing, but that's how i acquired 2k+ hours lmao

also they released a magpiehound recolor called 'frosthaven' that i gleefully snatched up and have been wearing it ever since (ft the magpie holospray and the magpie mural on their latest map. i think they are catering to me specifically)

i am. truly Not Good. i am here just to clown and gossip and make poor life choices. my impulse control is too non existent for someone whose best skill is shooting a perfect outline around the enemy and not a bullet within

i had SO MUCH bloodhound art over on twitter good god. out of the following two drawings, the first one was bought out by allegra to sell as signed prints, and the second one was reposted onto apex's IG account, and in general this was the one time i genuinely had a blast on twitter interacting with all the devs and vas before everything went downhill both in respawn and on twitter lol. also i have to say, s10 and the whole White Raven thing fed me so. so so. SO well. the existential angst was incredible.

i participated in a couple of zines/projects as well! i have many thoughts about their canonical(!) respawn system and the resulting unimportance of death. adds to the existentialism and to bloodhound's religious themes

overall it was a very, very prolific period for me, and there are many pieces i'm still very happy with to this day

(^ the second to last one is a reference to the fusehound confession scene, and the last one is related to one of my fics, wooden bones (forest deity!bh au))

shipping!!! miragehound was my initial and most prominent ship, and i will never forgive respawn for not expanding on their backstory (their mothers worked together COME ON. they might have met as children! COME ON!!!!! i have a whole series exactly about the What Could Have Been)

their backstory with boone also fascinated me for a very long time, and my friends and i spent many a yap session dissing the dude until we stopped and thought, hey, what if he really was Just Some Guy who made mistakes, what if he wasn't evil, and that's what pulled me right back into the brainrot when i was already starting to slowly recover from it. boone now has a very elaborate backstory and lore and i hope to god respawn never puts him in the games the way we did because a) they don't GET him and b) i don't trust the fandom with him lmao. i'm super down to blabber about him though just say the word. he's everything to me, my big, sad, hairy man

we also invented in-game stuff for him. he had abilities and skins etc etc (the top row of skins is his titan pilot backstory + talos era + 'default' in-game skin)

this diptych still lives rent-free in my head, i think i really won with this one

where miragehound and boonehound flourished, mirageboonehound wasn't far behind! i wrote how it came to be and all. also Рorn. so much Рorn. seriously.

also this was the first time i redrew the twelfth night as my otp. the second one was mouthwashing

fusehound was an absolute delight to watch blossom, especially since we know it wasn't planned and just Kind Of Happened. i felt that lmao. characters be like that. i'm a bit sadge they shelved the whole talos plotline in favor of romance but at this point i gave up on expecting good lore from apex, especially after they fired herr frozenfroh. i didn't draw fusehound nearly as much, BUT i do have one fic that was basically a dream i had lol

honorable mention goes to revhound!! this is the ship that went really hard with artists and writers. deeply painful, deeply compelling, absolutely incredible. mindblowing angst and just as mindblowing рorn, together or separately. best shit. the one ship i didn't write for because compared to the fandom's behemoths i never felt like i'd be able to contribute anything meaningful lol, i just got to sit back and enjoy

bonus: as one of my friends eloquently put it, bh and their bhitches :)

i was going to put in more pictures but hit the 30 images limit!!! my twitter is now abandoned but if you scroll down just a little you can see all the stuff that didn't make it into this post.

apex and bloodhound also REALLY, REALLY got me writing. i came into the fandom already relatively warmed up after a 170k fire emblem fic, but i ended up writing 200k+ for miragehound, mirageboonehound, and fusehound combined. i was unstoppable. it was insane. i've linked some already but you can peep them all here. bloodhound's pov was especially fun to write for, purple prose my beloved

also you asked me about heirlooms! i'm a lucky motherfucker who managed to get one set of shards from the 500th box and another from just the random 0.4% chance. so i have bloodhound's and fuse's as they are my most played characters :)

[skydigiblogs]

I'm Mad About Appmon in the TCG

And not for the reasons you might think.

A rant about Digimon Card Game art under the cut. It's long, and I brought visuals.

When BT-21 was announced, I, like many other Appmon fans, ate so fucking good at the news that we would finally be getting a scrap of recognition after so long. Inclusion of Haru in the Anime PB Set already had many of us excited, and we were very excited to see what would come of things once BT-21 was shown with Globemon on the packaging.

With spoiler season almost over for BT-21, however, I want to vent a frustration that's only been getting worse with every card spoiler for this set. Specifically, the Appmon ones.

That's to say, why the fuck does all the Appmon art feel so phoned in?

To no surprise for anyone who knows us well, this was prompted finally by the straw that broke the camel's back. Today, if you weren't paying attention, Satellamon BT21-074 was announced, and... well...

You might notice that the artwork is just a 1:1 pose redraw of the reference art, which is also what the 3D cut-in from the Anime references. And I'm kind of frustrated by that, because it shows a lack of creativity that I haven't really seen this consistently in the Digimon Card Game.

(A friend of ours who also likes Satellamon also pointed out that Nakano Haito miscolored the buttons on Satellamon's scarf here, which. Woof.)

In the above image, I decided to also show the other chip that many folks might not know about for Satellamon, as well as--- and this was a surprise to plenty of people I know at my local gaming store--- a card from the Applimon card game.

The reason I include the second one is for a topic that will become clear as we go: composition. Something I want to really hammer home through this post is just how generic a lot of the Appmon cards for the DCG feel. And while you could say that the ACG card on the right is rather generic, there's something to be said that the pose isn't just 1:1 that of the Appmon Ref Book Art.

Something similar happened with Charismon when it dropped earlier this spoiler season. Notice how the artwork once again is just a simple redraw of the Charismon Ref Book art! I find this less egregious than Satellamon at least, since the inclusion of the energy ball shows that some further research beyond looking at said art was done!

But again, it's reusing the composition of previously existing artwork.

I also wanted to highlight a specific piece of Charismon/Globemon artwork from sasasi here. Keep that in mind when we get to Globemon.

Timemon is another Appmon whose DCG card is done by Nakano Haito, and yet again we have a rather frustrating piece of art. Unlike the previous showings, however, it is not a 1:1 redraw of the ref book art, which is better than nothing, I guess...

That said, I also struggle to be interested in the Timemon artwork knowing the personality of Timemon in the anime. Again, it's a lack of creativity here.

While I was trying to nail down why the Appmon artwork bothered me so much, I had started to wonder about what could have been (something that, I acknowledge, is unfair to what we do have). I find it an achingly missed opportunity that nothing was done to reference Timemon's behavior in the anime, something which I am certain even non-Appmon fans would've appreciated, especially considering he's a walking Jojo reference.

That's to say, why not reference the scene we meet Timemon, where he freezes time, drinks five cups of tea, and then beats the everlasting shit out of DoGatchmon? Why instead give us Timemon in a generic digital background?

Something I'll give Sasasi's card art for BT21's Appmon is that it at least isn't a 1:1 redraw of Appmon Ref Book artwork. However, I'm still somewhat bothered by the generic feeling of the backgrounds, which detracts from the artwork as a whole for me. This is something that usually the Digimon Card Game excels at, which is why it feels all the more disappointing to see backgrounds like this in nearly all of Gatchmon's line!

I think it would have been nice to see some more visual references to the series itself. Maybe we'll get some in an alt artwork, but considering the alt Haru artwork we saw revealed from Bandai Card Fest, it's looking unlikely.

We could've easily seen something referencing Globemon's debut episode--- one of the best episodes of the series and something that, visually, hearkens back to one of the franchise's more famous visual scenes (that being Omnimon's fight with Diaboromon in the web). Instead, we get these strange digital backgrounds that feel like they're more at home in a Cyber Sleuth themed card set (but we're not at BT22 yet!).

The disappointing part is that we also have cards for less popular Appmon that sell the design much better than most of previously-existing Appmon media!

Look at how goofy Shotmon looks next to Beelstarmon! This artwork from Yuuki also gives us a dynamic pose for Shotmon that highlights its eyes--- something I never even noticed as an Appmon fan who's watched the show a few times!

And of course, I want to highlight a few other Appmon whose card art did excite me! Gossipmon and Watchmon especially are superlative examples, as we yet again see Appmon interacting with the world around them.

In the first example, Gossipmon is interacting with Diarimon (you can tell because it's green), an Appmon that I will be surprised if we even get a card for in the future! And it's from a newcomer artist to the DCG that I'll talk about in just a sec...

Naru also shows Watchmon interacting with Clockmon, something that I'm overjoyed to see as an Appmon fan! A lot of Appmon visually reference Digimon, and calling attention to that in the card game feels like it's attempting to make the inclusion of Appmon more cohesive.

Of course, I also have to shout out Yamuretsu's fantastic color work as always. They also did the Appmon egg for this set, which is equally lively. While it's busy and I can hardly tell what's going on in the background, and the pose is very similar to the ref book art, at the very least it is more visually interesting than the unfortunate showings of Satellamon and Charismon.

Something you might be thinking is that I am unfairly critiquing these artists, but I would like to highlight a smattering of their work in this next section.

Nakano Haito has been an artist with the Digimon Card game for quite some time, and here I've chosen to highlight primarily work from the last year or so. While the backgrounds (something I greatly complained about above) are fairly generic, most of these cards show off the personality of their subjects quite well.

I'm especially a fan of the EX7 Impmon, which I think exemplifies how one could use a fairly "generic" background in an interesting way, here incorporating them as a prop that Impmon is seated on.

Sasasi's Appmon cards frustrate me perhaps the most, however, as we know they are capable of much more visually interesting pieces than the bulk of their cards for Gatchmon's line. Gatchmon, Navimon, and DoGatchmon especially have the same issue with generic backgrounds that I've railed on Nakano Haito for, which is something Sasasi usually doesn't struggle with!

I've included Zephagamon Ace here as an example of one of Sasasi's more simple backgrounds, comparable to Gaiamon in terms of artistic quality I would say.

But also, remember that artwork I said we'd talk about later?

Hey, so, this was also done by Sasasi. Can we take a moment to appreciate the expressiveness of both Globemon and Charismon here? Can we take a moment to also appreciate the quality of the colorwork? This is a gorgeous piece of artwork, and I'm surprised that Sasasi wasn't tasked with doing a pair artwork like they so regularly do for Charismon and Globemon.

Sasasi is a phenomenal artist. So why do Gatchmon, Navimon, and DoGatchmon feel so... stiff?

And of course, I want to highlight the artists whose Appmon card art I actually like!

Biru Yamaguchi is a newcomer to the DCG, and has only done Cyberdramon's line aside from Gossipmon and Scopemon. I wasn't a fan of their Monodramon art, if I can be honest, but the dynamic poses and coloring in the rest of the line look phenomenal! I'm especially glad that they were allowed to do something interesting with Gossipmon.

And yes, I can admit the Cyberdramon background is a little generic. I get the feeling that might be a WS game reference I'm not getting though, considering it looks like a literal circuitboard.

Yuuki meanwhile has a prolific portfolio in the Digimon Card Game. I especially love their colorwork, and have picked a few superlative pieces from the most recent sets. They have been with the DCG since BT1 though!

Next, another newcomer(? I think?), Naru! Their use of contrast in their colorwork is gorgeous, and pretty much all of their card art makes the personality of their subject Digimon shine! I'm glad they got to do the Palmon line for the upcoming Starter Decks.

Yamuretsu meanwhile has been with the DCG since at least BT12 as far as I can tell. Their artwork has a distinct style, and while sometimes I find it a little too messy to read, I also would rather something messy and colorful than bland and stale.

Why Does This Matter?

I'm sure some of you might've opened this post wondering why I even care that much, besides the fact I'm an Appmon fan. After all, we're finally getting Appmon recognition after so long! The DCG, after 5 long years, is finally adding Appmon!

But the thing is, for a lot of people, this will be their first interaction with Appmon.

And I gotta say, it feels frustrating that so many of the pieces do little to inspire my friends at my LGS to actually watch Appmon. There is no intrigue, no bite to many of these cards.

It also bites thanks to the fact that, usually, I am excited to collect the cards in a set, because even Digimon I don't care about always have wonderful artwork! You think I give a shit about Shamamon? NO! But by god Naru's artwork of them is pretty as all get out!

So seeing Appmon art that feels like it was phoned in just makes me sadder than it should.

The reason I highlighted the potential of all of the artists (including those I praised), is that the Appmon card art suggests to me a failure in the art direction of the set. We've seen a lot of amazing artwork from these artists, and yet nearly half the Appmon cards feel like these artists weren't given any information on the series or its characters.

It just feels like giving us expired food, on Bandai's part, while Adventure gets yet another banquet out of the cards in this set and the new starter decks alike.

-Satty

[sexhaver]

What makes Jeweled Bird so bad?

first, some context: wayyyyy back in the stone ages when dinosaurs walked the earth and MTG first released, it was envisioned as less of a serious competitive card game people would explicitly try to minmax and more of a fun little diversion for your D&D group to play while you wait for Jared to get off his shift so you can actually start your campaign. this explains a lot of design choices that seem backasswards 30 years later. for instance, yes, Richard Garfield knew Black Lotus was unbelievably busted, but figured it was fine to print since it's not like people would do anything crazy like buy up hundreds of packs/hunt down singles on a secondary marketplace and play the game competitively for cash prizes.

one of the wackiest outcomes of this design philosophy was the concept of "playing for ante", an optional game mode/modifier where each player would begin the game by putting the top card of their library directly into "the ante", a pile of cards off to the side. whoever won the game won permanent, real-life ownership of all cards in the ante. basically "playing for keeps" but in a TCG instead of with Pogs or those weird tiny cardboard Beyblade tops that came in chip bags.

as you might guess from just reading that description, it was pretty wildly unpopular with most of the playerbase at the time and only got less popular as time went on. people didn't want to risk losing their cards, especially once the game became established and some of those cards were worth, like, actual amounts of money. and then there was the variance - it was entirely possible for you to ante up your only copy of an expensive card (meaning you were even less likely to win because now you can't draw it) while your opponent anted a basic land.

partially due to this, but mostly due to WOTC lawyers learning about the concept of "gambling laws" and WOTC PR learning about the optics of getting children into gambling, ante was officially removed from all sanctioned MTG tournaments very early into the game's lifespan (in fact i think this might have been enshrined into law before the actual first official tournament) and mostly memoryholed from the comprehensive rules, outside of section 407, which leads with this literal legal disclaimer:

there were 9 cards printed before this that explicitly reference "the ante" and do something unique to the cards in it. all of these cards have been errata'd to include the rules text "remove this card from your deck before playing if you're not playing for ante" and banned from LITERALLY ALL SANCTIONED FORMATS, including Vintage, the format whose entire appeal is "we never ban anything" (laughs in Lurrus).

okay so with the context out of the way we can start getting into why Jeweled Bird specifically is A Bad Card

first, the obvious: it's an ante card, which means you can't play it unless you're playing for ante, and if you ask anyone at your LGS to play for ante they will try to surreptitiously call the nearest retirement home to report an escapee from their memory care unit. so right off the bat it's quite literally unplayable as an MTG card (ante doesn't even work right in cube drafts, usually the last solace of jank-ass mechanics), which is not a great start.

now that we've established that ante cards are bad because they're effectively banned everywhere, let's assume we're living in some bizarro land where you've managed to convince a handful of friends to play in your personal MTG tournament bracket that allows ante. even then, all but one (don't worry we'll get to that one in a second) of the banned "ante cards" are just. unplayably bad. like absolute dogshit.

ok actually you know what i hadn't looked over all the ante cards in a while before typing up this post and now that i have i think Jeweled Bird is arguably the third or fourth best one out of the lot, and it's STILL unplayably bad in a modern context. it's effectively 1 colorless mana to draw a card, which is theoretically decent in some colors nowadays if you squint but would have actually been notably good back in its heyday. it actually gets pretty close to what WOTC was trying to go for with most of these ante card designs: you get a powerful effect (card draw for 1 colorless mana in an era when even blue had to jump through hoops for a rate that good outside of Ancestral Recall), but at the cost of adding something to the ante, but since the effect is so powerful, you should ideally be able to win the game off of it and completely negate the downside of adding your stuff to the ante.

you know what, fuck it, let's just go through the other ante cards from worst to best:

this card looks absolutely batshit until you get to the last sentence and realize it's effectively 6 mana to force your opponent to ante a card. if you spend 6 mana doing effectively nothing, you are not winning the game or that ante

this one is this low because in 99% of circumstances it's 10 mana over two turns to burn your opponent for 10. however, it takes the edge over Amulet of Quoz because 1. it just bypasses the ante zone entirely to literally steal the card directly, outcome of the game be damned 2. if your opponent has 9 or less life, they have to either let you steal their card or concede on the spot (which means they lose their ante) and 3. if i'm reading this ruling correctly you can set up the 9-or-less-life scenario with a TOKEN COPY of Bronze Tablet and give them a literal bar napkin with a doodle on it in exchange for their judge promo foil Elesh Norn:

so for 6 mana, you can heal yourself back to full at the cost of anteing an additional card. if that was all this card did, it would still be pretty bad, but the icing on this shitcake is that your opponent can just. also do that. but without spending their entire turn to cast a 6 mana spell. so now you're both on equal footing lifewise, but they have their entire turn to gain tempo advantage after you spent your turn healing them. and you gave them another one of your cards once you inevitably lose because of this. i guess theoretically you could run it in a super heavy control deck that aims to win via mill as a safety valve against aggro? idk man

this card effectively does nothing, but doing nothing for 3 mana is still an improvement over "doing nothing for 6 mana", "doing 10 damage for 10 mana over two turns", and "helping your opponent for 6 mana". i guess if you're really confident that your deck can win anyways (perhaps because of another card on this list) you could use this to force your opponent to ante another card for you to win? mostly this one is this high up here because "if the opponent doesn't concede the game immediately" is the funniest possible opening to a MTG card's rules text. like that's always true. you could add that to quite literally every card ever printed and it would change nothing other than making the game way funnier

okay so this is a three mana 1/1 with an ability that costs three MORE mana to activate that effectively just makes your opponent ante a card. i know it looks like it destroys and then literally steals an artifact, which would actually be a pretty good effect since it impacts the board (something none, but the entire thing is countered by anteing a card so that's what's gonna happen every time. at least this one can chump block

okay now we're starting to get into cards that at least make you think a little bit before deciding they suck (Jeweled Bird would go around here)

this scores higher than Timmerian Fiends for several reasons. obviously, a 4 mana 3/3 is a much better rate than a 3 mana 1/1, and the sac ability being free (other than a tap) makes it a lot more usable. the effect is even debateably good in red specifically: either it "draws" (literally legally steals irl) you a card, or it does 10 burn to the opponent's face. however, it does lose points due to the part where you, uh, have to give it away after using it once, win or lose. basically this is like Bronze Tablet but 6 mana cheaper and on a body that can actually theoretically do something. also lol at the "or conceding game" clause like Demonic Attorney, i really want to start seeing that wording on every card ever printed

now this might seem similar to Demonic Attorney at first glance, but the Oracle text makes it make more sense: "You own target card in the ante. Exchange that card with the top card of your library." notably, like Efreet and Tablet, this swap in ownership happens regardless of the outcome of the game, and unlike those two cards, you don't have to trade Darkpact itself for the card you're stealing. stealing your opponent's card out of the ante does mean that now both of the cards in there belong to you, meaning you have twice as much to lose, but hey, you just stole (and got to draw and cast, lol) your opponent's shit. "do what you must, i have already won" type beat

as powerful as Darkpact is, it's still only the second best ante card, and it is not even in the same zip code as the first best. ever heard of a little card named Ancestral Recall? draws 3 cards for one mana? and that's such a busted effect you're only allowed to legally run one copy in the one format it isn't explicitly banned in?

hahahahahahahahahaha holy shit sorry every time i remember this card i cackle at it a bit. what do you MEAN "discard your hand and draw 7 for 1 mana"?? discarding is an UPSIDE these days! people have unironically run One With Nothing, which is this card except for all the words after "discard your current hand". that "add the first drawn to the ante" bit might as well be flavor text because if you manage to lose after casting this then your deck was never even theoretically capable of winning in the first place. jesus christ.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Bound (Thomas Hutter x fem!vampire!reader)

-> ...death avails me not, for I am hers.

Signed, Thomas Hutter

Warnings: reader is soo unfair about the contract (but Thomas holds his own), self-inflicted wounds (but for purely beurocratic purposes), blood drinking, like, so much (but happily familiars don’t die from it), smut, p in v, oral (male receiving), dom!reader x sub!Thomas (but she’s actually so soft for him it’s not even funny)

Thank you to those who commented about the The torment of wanting you series! Here’s a little more Thomas x vamp!reader for your enjoyment🤭

Mature content below the cut - minors DNI!!!

You await him in the library, one of your trusted wolves sat by your chair as you card your fingers through its rich fur. It seems only natural that the covenant binding Thomas to you should be signed here—you and him have signed a contract in this room before. You shall do it again.

If he chooses to become your familiar, that is.

If. What a loathsome word. He so clearly yearns to be in your power, more than anything he has ever wanted in his short, mortal life. What is taking him so long? The clock mocks you with each second whose passage it marks before your eyes. He should have finished reading the terms and abandoned any naïve pretences that he could ever consider declining your proposal by now. 

The creature at your side senses your trepidation, and growls quietly, eager to hunt down the source of your disquiet at your slightest indication that you wish for it to do so. But it remains as a loyal dog would at your feet, awaiting instruction. An obedient pet. Fierce. Reliable. As Thomas should already have become.

“If he attempts to leave,” you tell the wolf, blood sizzling in your veins, “you are to… to…”

...what? Let him? Drag him back in tatters? No, no. His suffering is yours, and yours alone. All his wounds, all his cries... His moans. His whimpers. Please, and more, so sweetly falling from him trembling lips. Thomas. Your foolish, beautiful Thomas.

Oh, for the name of—What the fuck have you become? Second-guessing your judgement, unable to decide on a simple order to give. Feeding out of cups—cups!—instead of a fresh vein in his presence, all to appease his sensibilities and keep the true extent of your hunger at bay, lest he fall victim to it. If the first time you’d had him inside you he had been lucky to survive, the second had been an even greater miracle. But you’d held back, tainting your own pleasure with the effort, because your traitorous heart revolted at the thought of losing him—Thomas Hutter, a simple real estate agent. A dime a dozen. Nobody.

Yet, if he doesn’t sign the damned contract, the space he carved out for himself inside your chest shall remain painfully hollow, forever.

You should have known better than to allow him such liberties. Than to let him touch you, take pleasure in your flesh, even if in doing so he had awakened such rapture as you had forgotten could exist within you. You should have drained him dry the moment he set foot inside your castle. Then, you wouldn’t have to feel this uncertainty, this… fear. Of him, walking away. Of yourself, if he does.

The wolf nuzzles into your hand, resting its head in your lap. It’s not in words that the children of the night communicate with you. Somehow, they know how to make their thoughts known to you—an affinity between predators, if you will. Now, it is the wolf’s memory of Thomas in your coffin, shielding your corpse with his body when he’d thought you in danger from it, which nudges at your thoughts. If he wrongs you now, there is no forgiveness, is the wolf’s sentiment. But he did not before.

Splendid. Even the animal which would gladly feed on Thomas’s carcass if allowed has grown fond of him. 

“Bring him here,” you order coldly. If only to feel you are still in control. You know, in your heart, that even if he were to leave, he would not do so without seeing you one last time, but doubt creeps like poison through your veins and you refuse to wait any longer. You shall have an answer, and you shall have it now.

“I am here,” Thomas says.

Your breath hitches. You turn to find him standing at the door, contract in hand. So absorbed you had been in your own worries, you had not sensed him approach—yet another vexing effect of the errant emotions he stirs within you.

Your carnivorous pet doesn’t need to be told—it rises to its feet and leaves the room, making Thomas flinch as it passes by him. He swallows thickly, gathering himself, and walks towards you.

“My lady,” he greets humbly, halting his approach once he stands a few feet away from you. He is nearly trembling from nerves. You, on the other, are the picture of composure as you stand, casually leaning back against the table.

“My Thomas,” you reply. Not as an endearment, but as cold, hard fact. He is yours. He must be.

And Thomas… He wishes to be. Most ardently. Each time you call him yours, he feels it resonate in his very bones. Only…

“Are you to stand there until dawn?” you raise an impatient eyebrow. “To sign, we must both be awake and aware.”

“I wish…” he trails off. Looks at the paper in his hands. It would be easier to simply write his name onto the designated line, give you both what you desire without risking angering, and potentially losing you. But he must fulfil the promise he had made himself—for both your sakes, in the long run. “I wish to discuss some of the terms first.”

A pause.

“Discuss?” Your tone is quite unreadable.

“Well…” he hesitates. “Negotiate, that is.”

Silence. You blink at him, slowly. Unnervingly inexpressive.

Then, a grin begins to spread across your lips. They open, baring teeth, and you begin to… laugh. Not a genuine laugh, or the condescending little chuckles Thomas has earned himself in the past. It’s disbelief and anger, twisted into a drawn-out, deranged sound which makes his hair stand on end and sends winged creatures—are those bats?—fluttering out the window. 

“I beg you, do not mock me,” Thomas raises his voice slightly, as much as he dares so you may hear him over your own.

“Oh, but you mock me,” you all but growl, your laughter ebbing away into a sinister sneer. “Negotiate the covenant, he says! As though you were seeking some meaningless employment in your measly, human world.” You stride over to him like a storm, and it’s all he can do not to heed his natural impulse to turn and run as you snarl in his face. “You are in my world now, Thomas. The shadows do not bargain. Either sign the contract as it is, or leave my sight and never set foot here again.”

“I can do neither,” he says in despair, reaching to touch your cheek. “Please, let me—”

You bat away his hand with a disgusted hiss, and turn away. You storm towards the table and plant your hands onto it, chest heaving as anger courses through you. You do not even know what he means to ask for, but the terms are precisely what you need if you are to allow yourself to be bound to him. To allow him close, in such a permanent manner. Perhaps you judged him wrongly. Perhaps he does seek power over you.

“You do not wish for me to leave,” Thomas insists, unwisely. “Or you would not have offered me a gift as precious as eternity at your side. Say what you will, tear me to ribbons if you wish, but I believe you need me as much as I—”

“Take heed what you say, lest you lose your tongue,” you growl, snapping around with a deadly glare. How dare he presume to know—?

“My tongue is lost to me, for it has tasted you.” He sounds out of his mind. He is, given that he still dares walk into your space and bear his heart to you when you seem so intent on ripping it to shreds. “My soul already belongs to yours. Make me your companion,” he begs. “Your lover, as you said yourself. Not your slave. Leave me the freedom to prove my devotion to you each moment of every day, and you shall enjoy me all the better.”

You clench your jaw. He speaks with such sincerity, he reeks of it.

“My lady,” he entreats, somewhat emboldened by your hesitance. “Mistress, please. I could not deceive you if I tried.”

Mistress. Your breath catches in your throat. How sweet that title sounds on his tongue. How… comforting. And how ironic that the proof he shows of the power you wield over him makes you less averse to indulging his wishes.

“Let us hear your… observations,” you relent, albeit begrudgingly. Thomas breathes in relief.

Moments later, you are seated at the table, the troublesome piece of paper laid out between you. He is wise to begin with less confronting matters: a few clarifications here and there, small aspects of the supernatural he could not fully grasp (No, Thomas, the ‘mark of our bond’ is not physical, but rather spiritual. Yes, ‘eternal’ does extend beyond your—or my very unlikely—death.) It would be endearing if the prolonged wait wasn’t so tedious, how closely he examines every word pertaining to your world, striving to comprehend it—and you—better. It’s when he gets to altering the terms that the conversation becomes trickier.

“According to this,” he says, referring to a particular section, “you shall be privy to my whereabouts, feelings and thoughts, as though they were your own.” A breath. “I should like that to go both ways. But,” he rushes out before the spark of fury in your eyes grows into a lethal blaze, “only so long as the other is willing. I would no sooner intrude upon your mind than I would raise a hand against you in anger. And I… well, I know my thoughts are known to you to a degree as is, and welcome it. But I would feel quite awkward knowing you can always tell what I am thinking. Too... naked, I suppose.”

“If you fear being naked, we have a great issue on our hands,” you remark, dead serious. “I shall want you that way quite often.”

Thomas shifts his gaze, self-conscious. The few times you’ve been intimate, you’ve never been fully bared to each other. Now is not the time, though, to contemplate how ardently he looks forward to it. “And I shall strive to please you as best I can. But you know of what I speak.”

You do. That term is a safeguard, to ensure he does not turn against you. If he is to be the only soul aware of your intentions and weaknesses, he also poses the greatest threat to you. But… oh, curse your bleeding heart. He had been right, earlier—that face couldn’t lie to you if it tried.

“Very well,” you sigh, in the end. “You may choose whether or not you let me in, and I shall do the same. But I would not hold much hope of being granted entrance to my mind beyond the purposes of communication, if I were you.”

“Thank you—”

“What else?” you say curtly. As endearing as the joy in his gaze is, it is still a pesky reminder that you yielded to him—again, and likely not for the last time.

He sobers up at once. “You said you wish for us to travel to Wisburg,” he goes on. “To my home. I am to ensure your safe journey there.”

“Indeed.”

He readies himself a moment before saying, “I cannot do so if it endangers the lives of those I care about.”

“Those you were perfectly willing to leave behind for a life spent at my side, you mean?”

Shame pricks at his skin. You are not wrong to taunt him so.

“Though my life as I knew it was not enough to keep me from you, it was not devoid of joy,” he confesses. “There are some I would miss dearly if I were to never see them again.”

“You will be mine,” you say simply. “A familiar has no family but their master.”

“Please,” Thomas insists, quite desperately. “I need to know you will not bring them harm. I could not live with myself if you did.”

The idea he might care for something other than you grates your nerves. But in a few short decades, the matter will resolve itself—human lives are so brief, after all.

“They shall be perfectly safe from me,” you promise. “However, you will not place their interests over mine.”

“Well, I suppose… depending on the circumstances….”

Oh, to hell with it.

“No physical or emotional harm shall befall those you hold dear on account of my actions, be they direct or indirect,” you recite, exasperatedly. “Does that satisfy you?”

“It is all I hoped for.” Relief floods his chest at another small victory. He hesitates. Should he go on? “I do not suppose the part about my… diet is negotiable.”

“None of it was,” you say sourly, “but that is a term even I cannot change.” Your eyes dart to his lips in an appreciative glance. “You must consume some form of life if you are to preserve this pretty face for all eternity.” 

The life forms in question being small animals of various kinds—bugs, birds, rats and the like. Thomas can barely imagine himself swallowing an insect, let alone consuming anything larger.

“Fret not,” you say dismissively, noticing his unease. “You shall be relieved of your natural aversion to such feeding habits along with your mortality. I myself barely remember what it was to—”

No. 

You never speak of before.

You never think of it.

Thomas holds his breath when you halt mid-sentence, frozen in inner panic. He yearns to learn whatever words have remained locked away in your throat, any morsel of knowledge about your life before death. But you’re dangerously close to closing yourself off, and he can’t risk that.

“I see,” he says carefully, hoping to bring you back. “Well, I was wondering, also, regarding the matter of required proximity…”

The rest of your talk goes smoothly enough. You move past your slip-up before long, content that he did not insist upon it. In truth, his wishes are hardly unreasonable. Nowhere near intrusive, unlike your original demands of him. It isn’t exactly comfortable for you to meet him half-way, but not impossible. There was a reason you chose him in the first place. Even when he doesn’t obey you without falter, he feels… right.

“I believe that is all,” he says eventually, as though he can’t quite believe that he has managed to discuss all he had hoped to.

“Well, then?” you ask, anticipation sizzling beneath your skin. “Are we in agreement?”

“Yes,” Thomas says, the sole word ringing heavily in the air. “But… how are we to change the—?”

“There is no need.”

Thomas frowns. Surely, you have not indulged this discussion only to disregard it either way—

But when he follows your gaze to the paper before him, he realizes you are right—there is nothing to change, for the words have already done that on their own.

“A moment ago, it was…” His eyes jump from one sentence to the other. “When did this happen?”

You stand from your seat and join him at his side, laying a hand upon his shoulder as you study the contract yourself over it.

“The covenant was forged with your blood and mine combined. It reflects the terms upon which we agree,” you explain. “We have agreed.”

“They were your terms, before,” Thomas remarks, a little annoyed. “You did not tell me, in the beginning, that it was possible to amend them.”

“It seems I didn’t need to,” you say with nonchalance. You had not been transparent with him on purpose, yes, but he should know better than to think you a picture of fairness by now. And to be honest, not even you hold all the answers to the laws of the shadows. Part of you wonders if the bond will even take as it is—closer to a partnership than you imagine any other of your kind has ever accepted, or that you had expected you would.

Thomas gives the softest chuckle of disbelief. All the nerves he had endured before coming to you, wondering if it was even possible that the terms might be altered… That’s alright. He knows what he is getting himself into. And so, he takes special care reading through the newly-worded contract, despite you hovering impatiently over his shoulder.

Indeed, all seems in order, just as you discussed. Well, as in order as a contract binding his soul to that of a centuries-old vampiress with breath-taking controlling tendencies and trust issues for all eternity can be.

He raises his gaze to yours. No one has ever laid eyes on him quite the way you have. As frightening, as consuming… nor with such profound yearning, however painstakingly he must search for the moments when you let slip a glimpse of it. Now is such a moment.

He feels it as well.

“Shall we sign, then?”

His voice is barely a whisper. A sense of deep content warms its way into your features.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you tease, not unkindly. You cup his cheeks and coax him to his feet, that he may face you. He looks so pretty in the candlelight—in any light. And he shall look all the prettier when he is yours.

You press your lips to his, briefly, unable to resist. Before he can pull you closer as he means to, you step back, and place your hand to your own chest. Your heart, undead as it is, races beneath it. Under Thomas’s mesmerized gaze, you run a sharp nail down the line of your sternum, leaving a trail of dark blood oozing in its wake. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, you pick up a quill, and dip it in the blood. And with it, sign your name upon the paper.

It’s grotesquely beautiful, watching you elegantly paint each letter of your name in the ink spilled from within your veins. Once you are finished, Thomas opens his shirt without being told, expecting you to perform a similar cut on his own chest. But you reach for a paper knife on the desk, rather than for him.

“I cannot do it for you,” you warn, holding out the blade for him to take, “or the contract is null.”

Oh. He has never hurt himself before, not on purpose. His hand trembles slightly as he takes the knife from you. A fingertip, perhaps…?

“The heart, Thomas,” you instruct.

He cannot falter under your piercing gaze. He takes a breath, puts the blade to his chest, and applies pressure, wincing as pain blooms down the center of his chest. It’s a shallow cut, less stinging than your bite would be, but thankfully it does just fine. With a—dare he say proud—smile, you next hand him the quill, and he does with it as you had, soaking the tip in his own blood.

Death avails me not, for I am hers.

Thomas Hutter, he writes beneath, as your eyes shine with hunger. You had never been so anxious to see a string of letters put together.

Once the last line is drawn, crossing the ‘T’s in his surname in one decisive stroke, Thomas sets down the quill. Your names are both there, written in blood, yet he feels no different. He turns to you with a pinch in his brow. “Is it done?”

“It shall be.”

You take the contract with careful fingers, like a most precious possession… and hold it to the candle, until it catches fire at the corner, then let it fall back to the desk to burn.

Thomas gasps. Something is happening now. As the piece of paper turns to smoke, the words are being burned into his skin, his mind, into his very soul. They are coursing through his veins, changing his flesh into something else. It’s not pain he feels, not pleasure either. It’s something odd and foreign in between, and he clutches at his throat as it grows in intensity until he can scarcely breathe.

He falls to his knees, gasping for air, afraid. You follow. A single tear has rolled down your cheek, the only proof that you can feel it, too, if only in part—the invisible needle puncturing your souls over and over as they are being stitched together.

“It hurts to be reborn as something other than you were,” you whisper, deeply pained by your own buried memory of such a change. The unveiled compassion he finds in your gaze is the most soothing balm. “Hush, now,” you coo, drawing him to your chest. “It shall pass.”

Thomas wraps himself around you as best he can whilst sitting on the floor, sinking into your embrace. Oh, this is worth any pain. His heart rages in his chest, threatening to tear itself apart, but he has you to cling to through it all, even if his body were to scatter into pieces—

It stops. Just like that, in an instant. All of a sudden, he feels… nothing. Nothing unpleasant, that is, save for the ache where he had cut his chest.

He lifts his head, tentatively. His cheek is warm—the wound over your heart has healed already, but the blood spilled from it has been smeared all across your skin where he had lain his head. It adorns the soft swells of your breasts in a maddening painting. The sweetest nectar, the most tempting flesh. He wants to… He wants…

Your chest heaves with your entwined desires, the both of you too feverish with the novelty of your bond to guard your feelings from the other as you had decided you could. You cradle the back of his head, wordlessly allowing and pleading for him to indulge as you pull his face to your chest. Thomas groans, licking the valley between your breasts clean. No, that will not do. With your nail, you reopen the wound, and you moan as his tongue glides over your torn flesh, lapping up the blood spilling over.

The pain in his own chest subsides. In fact, the cut is there no longer. Neither is the lingering weakness he had felt after your feeding on him the night before. He is as new. Stronger than he has ever felt. 

Yet still weak for your touch as you tighten your grip in his hair and pull him away, for the unbridled desire in your gaze as your thumb brushes his bloody lower lip.

“My Thomas,” you murmur with a deeply content smile. Finally yours. Finally as he should be.

Days’ worth of raging carnal and blood lust possess you as you bite into his neck with unprecedented viciousness. Thomas gasps as his blood fills your mouth, even sweeter than before. He clings to you even harder. Pain. Ecstasy. Devourance.

You do not stop.

🩸

🩸

🩸

The bed looks like a murder scene.

Thomas himself is surprisingly clean, given the state of the bloodied sheets in which you lie, tucked into his side with your head resting on his chest. You did not let a single drop go to waste, licking your drink of preference off every inch of his skin onto which it had spilled.

So much of it. Gallons more than his body could even hold within itself at once, it seemed. Now that he is yours, with barely a drop of your blood in his system, his is replenished practically at the same pace you suck it out. You can drink, and drink, and never stop. Arousal adds an exquisite flavour to his blood, and Thomas is hardly ever not aroused for you.

But once the contract had been signed, it was more than arousal which took over you—it was madness. When your teeth had pierced his flesh, he could feel the sharp pain of your bite, feel the blood being dragged out of his veins, and his knees weaken with pleasure. But it was only pleasure. He was not sick, or light-headed. He was delirious with want, and what was more—he could feel yours. A blazing fire, fueling his in turn, in a never-ending loop of unquenchable thirst. A man possessed, he had lifted you from the floor with extraordinary ease, and you had gasped, then laughed as he’d set you onto the table.

“Off. All of it. I want to feel all of you.” Your command had been his wish exactly. He barely managed to register that you had spoken into his open mind as fabrics had been ripped and cast aside, leaving you at last bare to one another. He had the right to keep you from his mind, in writing, but he wanted nothing more than for you to be intertwined in every imaginable way. All the pesky little objects in your way had clattered to the floor as he’d swiped them clean off to lay you down on the table, but it was somehow still Thomas himself who ended up spread out onto it like a feast.

“Mine mine mine—” you had chanted without a sound as you bit his neck again, then his shoulder, his chest—anywhere you could reach as he moaned beneath you, craving more. He had felt your presence in his mind before, but now that he is your familiar, you could penetrate him so deeply—even when it was his cock buried into you as you rode him with such furious abandon, the legs of the desk had all but shattered beneath you. He hardly would have noticed such a thing. 

“Take me take me take me!” he had begged, relentless in his pleas even once the last drop of his seed had spilled itself inside you, upon that first glorious orgasm he had endured beneath his new Mistress.

And oh, how you had taken him, body and blood and spirit. He has lost count of the ways you’ve had each other. How exactly you had even moved from the library into the bedchamber is a blur in his mind. It’s a wonder you ever reached it at all. His blood must still be smeared along the halls in the various places you had pinned him to the wall to have one more taste, then another, and another. He recalls fucking you on a windowsill when the journey had proven too long to make without feeling you come on his cock once more. He can lift you with such ease now, can grow back to full hardness so soon after he spills. He has never felt quite so… virile.

But he is still Thomas, still yours, and though your blood’s power to heal him has opened up a world of the most beautifully sinful sensations, he wishes he could keep at least some of the marks you leave on him. He misses the familiar ache that used to linger above his heart, where you had supped on him in the beginning, and craves to feel the novel one to which you have introduced him, high on his thigh, taunt him with every step he takes. To remind him how you had pushed him onto the mattress, knelt between his legs, kept him from rising to seek your kiss. Leaned down with a devilish grin and brushed your lips against his knees and thighs instead, setting his skin ablaze before sinking your teeth into his soft flesh, a mere inch away from his vulnerable erection.

That was where it hurt the most, the best. He had wept for you between his legs from his cock and veins both, keening and writhing until the muscles in his upper legs burned with how wide he was spreading himself for you, inviting you to take more, always more. You had moaned in such deep fulfilment, the sound itself a ghostly stroke to his neglected sex. Soon, you were peppering teasing kisses along his length, from sack to base to glistening tip. Looked him in the eyes as you gave his cock a long, hard lick that felt as though you were dragging the orgasm out of him in your teeth.

“You make the most precious little noises when you come,” you tease sweetly at present, sensing where his thoughts have strayed. He projects, sometimes, not entirely without meaning to, but clumsy in his handling of your newly-formed connection. Even you could not quite seem to keep your thoughts firmly disentangled from his at the height of your passion. Now, however, you are precise in what you let him glimpse—your perspective of his memory, his head thrown back as he writhes beneath you, his wails of ecstasy ringing beautifully in his—your—ears.

“They are hardly little, I think,” he says quietly, flushing. Seeing himself in the throes of passion is quite different from being in them, and he can’t help but feel self-conscious.

You prop yourself up on your elbow. “Do not dare attempt to stifle them,” you warn. “Only I shall do that.” A whisper, “If I like.”

A sensuous smile tugs at your lips as your hand covers his mouth, without force. A thrilling shiver runs down his spine. You could hold him down, chain him to the bed with your power alone. You will, no doubt, at some point in the future. Eternity is a long time.

Thomas licks your hand, content as a purring cat. Affection tugs at your heart—that, you keep firmly to yourself. Your face, however, readily betrays it, and so, with the softest gasp, you draw back, and turn over to your other side. Thomas adjusts without hesitation, as though your limbs and his were of the same organism as you settle into a new position, with him embracing you closely from behind. One arm keeps you tucked into his body by the stomach, one is across your chest, having sneaked under your neck to wrap around your shoulders. Every inch of his skin is warm against yours, and so is his breath as he nuzzles into your neck with a small hum.

Something in you melts. Something else craves. You take the hand that is closest to your mouth, and gently bite down into the heel of it. The hunger has passed, yet you are still indulging. How could you not? It isn’t just fulfilling—it is soothing. Familiar. He is all yours now, as he shall always be.

“Mistress…” he pleads into your skin, the word melting into desire between your thighs. It’s easy to lose yourself in the taste of him, now that it will not kill him, but the healing effects of your blood are not limitless. Thomas is growing lightheaded from loss of blood once more.

You drag a nail between your shoulder and your neck, breaking the skin. Grateful and eager, Thomas licks the blood that trickles out for him, relishing your taste whilst you languidly drink from the palm of his hand. Before long, his body is recovered, and he is hard once more, radiating quiet desperation. You are slick with want, in perfect sync.

“Again,” you order and allow. He nestles his hips against yours and slips himself inside you with ease. Your walls cling to him greedily as he fills you up, and you no longer bother to quiet the mewling sounds of pleasure he elicits with each slow, deep thrust.

“Like so?” he asks without a sound, tentatively making use of your newly-formed bond. “Am I pleasing you, Mistress?” You put up no resistance, allowing his thoughts to reach you. His voice feels like a caress of the mind.

“Tighter,” you say, breathless even in your mind. “Harder. Touch me.”

He does precisely as he is asked—holds you tighter, thrusts into you harder. Fuck, his cock was made to please you. His fingers find your clit, and you keen into his hand. You had threatened to cover his mouth, but you clamp his hand over your mouth as you quake in his arms, crying out your release. He can never resist for long once he feels you coming on his cock, and he whimpers into your neck as he spills inside you. Like you said before—a most delightful sound.

Pleasantly weak in the aftermath of your orgasm, you roll onto your back to look at him. You shall never grow tired of seeing his beautifully-carved cheeks glistening with sweat in the moonlight. His hand has not strayed far from your sex as you shifted, and he leans down to lay the gentlest kiss upon your lips as his fingers creep back to the bundle of nerves between your legs. You twitch slightly as he caresses you at leisure, a soft mewl leaving you when he gives the overly sensitive bud the slightest pinch. But you let him go on, slowly working you towards the height of your arousal once more.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, gazing upon your face in awe as you writhe under his touch. It’s such a simple statement, so… mundane. Shallow, even. You are, beneath this false beauty, a walking corpse. An abomination, as some would call you. He has seen it, he knows it. Yet he touches you as though you are the most precious being in the world, as though your pleasure is the greatest gift he could ever receive.

The orgasm he coaxes out of you is less intense than your last, washing over you in what you can only describe as a... comforting manner. It’s warm and rapturous, making you shut your eyes to the world and throw your head back against the pillow with a series of utterly vulnerable moans. Thomas presses his lips to your exposed neck in a most delicate kiss, caressing your clit throughout the peak of your pleasure until you cannot bear to be touched any longer. Eyes still closed, you lay a hand onto his, stilling his movements. The gentlest command you have ever given him. He gives in at once, entwining his fingers with yours instead. With your other hand, you cup his cheek, and bring his lips to yours in a languid kiss. You feel as though you might melt into the mattress, softer than you have in an eternity. So soft, so light, so… 

You turn your head to the side, away from Thomas’s kiss. Your love-making, you find when you open your eyes, is not the sole reason for this hazy feeling. So absorbed you had been in it, in him, that you had failed to notice…

The sun has risen.

The curtains are drawn, allowing only strips of light which cannot reach you directly to creep by. But the light is there, throughout the room, reflecting off the stone walls. Bathing Thomas’s face in a warm hue you had never seen upon his skin.

“My—Mistress,” he murmurs, fearing for you as he, too, realizes the last moment of the night had slipped by without his notice. “Are you well?” 

You are not an inert corpse, that is for certain. All thanks to your familiar, whose life force now gives you the strength to remain yourself whilst the sun shines in the sky, if only for so long as you do not allow its rays to touch you. It has been so long since you saw any semblance of daylight, yet you cannot fully embrace the moment when your body—your strength, upon which you have so heavily relied for all these years—

“I am…” you stutter out, sitting up in bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. It is as though your skin were not your own—a small, yet terrifying fraction closer to the way you were before. “I feel less…”

Thomas is at your side at once, embracing you soundly from behind. “You are not as strong as you are by night,” he murmurs, chin resting on your shoulder. “But neither are you weak.”

Are you not? You are trembling in his arms. To exist without change for centuries, then suddenly this—desire, tenderness, daylight… Tears well in your eyes as you lean into him.

“What was it like before?” Thomas whispers in your ear after a while, coaxing you into speaking as a means to distract you from the fear. “During the day, I mean.”

“Nothing, most of the time,” you reply quietly. “Darkness. A blink of it, then no more. Like sleep. At times, some stray voice, disturbing my rest. Many call out to the darkness, ignorant of the consequences that may befall them. I care not for their foolish pleas. I cared not for Knock’s.” You disentangle yourself from Thomas’s arms, and turn to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “What force led me to—?”

You never finish, but you do not have to. The emotion swelling in your throat and the awe in your gaze alone is enough to bring tears to his eyes. Thomas takes the hand resting on his cheek, and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “I am yours,” he says, as though it is the sole needed answer. “Fate would not have it otherwise. I have always been yours.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “I suppose fate must have had a hand in all this.” Some of your haughtiness returns to you, though your praise is more sincere than teasing, “How else might a man as impossibly sweet as you find himself unwed still?”

Thomas smiles, bashful. “You know very well why.”

“Still,” your thumb brushes his lower lip, “I’d like to hear it from your lips.”

There you are, the mistress he has come to know. So quick to conceal her more delicate emotions behind games of seduction. Thomas cannot but play along. “There was no one I…” He falters as he feels your fingers creeping up his thigh. “...no one who could please me as you could.”

“Hm,” you make, as though in contemplation. A decision is reached, some hidden resolve behind your eyes, and then you are moving both your limbs and his, shifting them as needed so he is sitting with his legs spread either side of you, and you lean down, and take him in your mouth. Not only a kiss or a long, firm lick, as you have done before—you wrap your lips around his cock, taking him deep, so deep inside your throat, it’s like you want to swallow him into your very heart. Thomas is hard in an instant, gasping, moaning, fisting the sheets as you suck him into your mouth, over and over. He lays his hand on your head in a way that can only be described as reverent, weeping not just from the pleasure, but the wonder of your choice to tend to him in such a generous manner. He can no longer tell whether he thinks or speaks out loud the string of helpless thank yous that pours out of him, but his wail of your name as he comes without doubt echoes off the morning-lit walls.

Fear trickles down his spine as he slumps into the pillows, utterly boneless with bliss. He didn’t call you ‘Mistress’, he’d barely gotten to warn you he was close before he’d spilled his seed onto your tongue. Thankfully, you seem to mind neither. A deep sense of satiation rolls off you as you lick him clean, as thoroughly as you would his blood. “Not quite as nurturing,” you think as his sensitive member twitches under your tongue, “but no less delightful.”

“Fuck.” He is beyond any other words.

“A young man of your high learning, reduced to such rudimentary speech?” You crawl up the bed so you are lying atop him. “My poor Thomas,” you coo, brushing back a damp curl which stuck onto his forehead. “What am I to do with you?”

“This,” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around you, and bringing your body flush with his. “Take your pleasure and my blood, for all eternity.” His lips seek your, brushing against them. “Let us never leave this bed.”

You smile, letting your lips meet in the briefest, tantalizing kiss before you sit up abruptly, straddling his waist.

“As tempting as that may sound,” you say, your back drawing a sensual arch as you lean against his chest, “we shall leave this bed, and we shall do it soon. We have a long journey ahead of us, Thomas, and I quite look forward to moving to your city. At last, a new beginning. A new life. New blood.”

Your voice holds a sinister promise. It should frighten him, but to his shame, it’s envy rather than fear which takes hold of him.

“You may now have as much of me as satisfies you, without consequence,” he reminds you in earnest. “Why do you still have need of others?”

You arch an eyebrow. “Would you only eat your favorite food, every day for the rest of eternity?” He is silent. You are pleased. “I can be discreet,” you reassure him. “It is best we do not draw too much attention, after all.”

He can hardly imagine you not drawing every last drop of attention any room of people has to offer. Your nails alone would be a dead giveaway that you are not entirely… aligned with social norms. The thought is somewhat sobering. You are to return together, yes, but… how is he to reconcile what he is now with what he used to be? What will they see when they look at him? At you?

He doesn’t dare voice such concerns, but he doesn’t oppose you when you nudge at his mind, seeking the source of his sudden unease. “You do understand, I hope,” you say, your tone grave, “that though you are to return to your social and business affairs as they were before, that is no longer your life, Thomas. Those for whom you… care,” you begrudgingly speak the word, “shall all wither, whilst we remain the same. Decade by decade, century by century… I alone shall remain at your side. Do not forget this, should your loyalties be tested.”

Thomas takes one of your hands which rests on his chests into his. “I would ask that you, too, remember I have promised myself to you willingly. I hope, in time, you will come to see… you need not fear letting me in.”

A mistake. You grow cold, draw back into yourself. “Speak not such words,” you say through your teeth. “You know nothing of my fear.”

It has been so long, you barely know of it yourself. You do not wish to know. To think of it.

“I require clothing,” you order, dismounting Thomas and lying back down with your back to him. His heart crumbles.

“Mistress—”

“Make whatever preparations you require for yourself,” you cut him off. “We leave at dusk. Not a moment later.” Your voice grows quiet, simmering with anger and pain. “I never wish to return here again.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Thomas murmurs. He is quickly learning when he may hope to assuage your sour mood, and when he ought to be patient instead. Still, he shifts closer to you, and lays a feather-light kiss on your shoulder. You gather the sheets close, stubbornly trapping him on the other side of the wall he has grown accustomed to you raising between you as you please.

Perhaps, some time before eternity comes to an end, you shall accept him as your loved one as well as your lover. Until then, he shall do your bidding… and hope.

[maya1525]

SUCK ~ & ~ F*CK 😋🍾

✩ Featuring Megumi Fushiguro ✩

18+MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Megumi Fushiguro

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, sex in front of others, language, chocking, rough sex

Word count✩࿐1.9k

Summary✩࿐This is based on my original post: SUCK ~ GUESS ~ F*CK. But you know ahead of time whose dick is in your slutty mouth. Megumi drew 10 of Spades ♠️

A/N✩࿐I like the thought of having an aggressive and possessive Megumi. Yet, he still wants to share you with his friends 😈 he loves showing others how amazing you are. I also felt like having a dominant Fushiguro boyfriend compliments the two other sweet and cuddly boyfriends. Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖

“The game is quite simple.” Gojo stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re going to be blindfolded and will have to guess which man's dick is in your mouth. If you guess incorrectly, the man gets to choose which position to fuck you in. If you guess correctly, then you get to choose the position. To keep things interesting, you’ll suck dick for three minutes and get fucked for seven.”

You nodded your understanding as you sat on the large and cushy futon in Gojo’s apartment. He had planned on fucking you alone tonight, but your boyfriends wanted in on the action, plus they thought it would be a good idea to invite two of their friends, Mechamaru and Noritoshi.

You felt your cheeks warm up with excitement, never in your life, you’ve felt so deeply desired before. Everyone’s eyes were on you, especially because you wore a revealing teddy one-piece. Satoru bought it for you, and it complimented your figure perfectly. He even put a stunning custom collar on you, with a diamond-covered ‘S’ on it.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed to be this exposed in front of Noritoshi and Mechamaru. You were familiar with both of these men, but you were still getting used to human Mechamaru. Muta was on the leaner side compared to your boyfriends, he had sharp features and a large and noticeable scar on his upper cheek. While Kamo on the other hand always seemed like a strong and serious leader among his comrades. The thought that he yearned for you just as much as your boyfriends made you wonder what he would be like when he fucked you. The thought made you anticipate his turn.

While you thought about those two men, your eyes were subconsciously drawn to both of them. Noritoshi sat on the far side of the sectional, his heated gaze stared you down hungrily. Beside him sat your boyfriend Megumi with a starved look in his midnight blue eyes. Next sat Itadori, he eyed you with such desperation, that it looked as if he was going to jump off the couch any second to get to you. Next to him sat Satoru smugly, his eyes gleamed playfully in your direction. Beside him was Muta, he eyed shyly with a faint blush on his face. To his left sat Yuuta and Inumaki, Toge was leaning into the couch comfortably, his violet-colored eyes sparkling over your stunning body with admiration and Yuuta had a similar look of awe on his face.

“Ok Y/n, I’m going to put this on you if you’re ready,” Satoru murmured, his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming down at you, while he wrapped his black blindfold around your eyes.

You were shocked at how you couldn’t even see small streams of light through it. You had always assumed that it was sheer fabric and that Gojo could slightly see through it, but you were mistaken. Satoru’s amazing Six Eyes technique is one to behold, he certainly is the strongest jujitsu sorcerer.

“OK, now that her eyes are covered, I’m going to hand each of you a playing card. Whoever draws the highest card gets to go first.” Satoru explained nonchalantly, as the sound of him shuffling the cards expertly made itself known in your ears.

After a short moment of listening to each man shift on the couch to get their card, Gojo spoke. “Now let’s reveal our cards.” You heard a few small sighs of excitement from some of the men, and you also heard some hisses of displeasure, assuming that they would have to wait a while until their turn.

You then sense the presence of another male standing in front of you. The familiar sound of undoing his pants in front of your face made itself known. He set both of his hands on each side of your face, as he thrust his hips forward. You opened your mouth obediently and felt his hard dick slip into your mouth and down your throat. The sudden feeling of him that deep in you, caused you to gag a little bit, but you still sucked him off hungrily.

He gently pumped his hips against your mouth, and you submissively held still while he face fucked you. You had a strong feeling that tomorrow you won’t have a voice. He tugged on your leash, causing you to slightly choke around him. He briefly removed himself from your slippery mouth to give you a little breather. In return, you softly sucked the tip of his dick. You swiveled your tongue around his sensitive head while jacking him off with your right hand.

You then opened your mouth up wide and let him pump his dick down your throat. Your jaw ached slightly, but you obediently kept your mouth open for him. With the leash still pulled tight, he fucked his hips against your face harshly.

The other men who sat on the couch watched as Megumi face fucked you brutally. You were constantly choking and gagging on him, and they were amazed that you let him treat you so harshly. You were certainly well-trained. Fushiguro’s dark blue eyes rolled to the back of his head in sick pleasure, if he kept going he’d finish in your mouth.

This man then pulled himself from your mouth to give you a little break, you leaned forward and kissed his shaft softly. Your kisses trailed from the head of his penis to the base. All while you left juicy kisses on him, you were able to feel his dick ache towards you with want.

Suddenly the timer went off, you were too busy leaving kisses on his cock to think of who this person is. “Umm, Itadori?” You croaked out with uncertainty as you brought the blindfold down. You locked eyes with your boyfriend Megumi.

“Sorry sweetie, but that's a wrong guess. Now go straddle Inumaki and Yuuta. I wanna fuck you overtop them.” Fushiguro stated nonchalantly, as he helped you up off the futon. You couldn’t help but blush at your boyfriend’s request, it seemed almost mean to tease them like that. Nonetheless, they were your boyfriends too and you were curious about how this was going to play out.

You settled yourself so Yuuta’s left leg and Toge’s right were between your thighs, the both of them eyed you longingly. Hopefully, soon it’ll be their turn, it looked as if Yuuta couldn’t wait any longer. You felt Megumi fondle your ass with approval as he placed the head of his dick at your moist entrance. Without delay, he pressed his hips against your bubbly ass cheeks. His cock was angled into your pussy in the most delectable way, a needy whine escaped your lips in response. Moaning so cutely while looking at Toge made him want to snatch you from Megumi’s grasp.

Fushiguro leaned close from behind and whispered in your ear, “Go on, kiss them.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately sent your lips crashing down against Yuuta’s while you tangled your fingers in Inumaki’s platinum locks lovingly. Yuuta kissed you back with so much affection, he needed you then and there, but he’ll have to wait his turn like everyone else. His lips moved passionately against yours, while Fushiguro set into a steady rhythm of plowing his veiny rod into you. Each thrust caused you to lurch forward, making it a little hard to keep yourself steady. You found yourself hanging onto Yuuta’s shoulder for balance. You then switched over to Inumaki, whose violet-colored eyes grazed over you friskily. His lips collided with yours hotly. You felt Toge’s hand sneak way onto your thigh and began to tease his nimble fingers on your soft skin.

Fushiguro burrowed his dick into you so perfectly, he placed both of his hands on your slim waist to keep you steady. Every time his hips met your cheeks, loud clapping sounds would echo through the room lewdly. You couldn’t help but moan wantonly, you were loving the fact that you were able to enjoy all three of your boyfriends at the same time. Okkotsu guided your face back to his, he desired your attention. Your lips tangled with his seductively, while you felt his left hand rest on your hip, right below Megumi’s hand.

“I think their dicks need a little love,” Fushiguro grunted out from behind you. You hastily tried to undo the button on Yuuta’s pants, but doing it one with one hand was a little tricky. You felt him smile against your lips and helped you out, soon enough his hard and needy dick sprang free from its confines. You quickly brought your other hand down to Inumaki’s pants, and he helped you unbutton them as well.

You brought your palm up to your mouth to lick it for the extra lubricant and then did the same to your other hand. With Fushiguro holding you securely, you no longer need to grip Yuuta for stability. Your soft hands gripped both of your boyfriends' hot and eager cocks. You pumped them in union and admired the flushed looks they shared. Inumaki thrust his hips toward your hand instinctively, while Yuuta shuddered with delight.

You completely forgot that you still had the leash on, until Inumaki gently tugged on it, in order to have you kiss him again. He pulled you close and the both of your tongues wrestled with each other. You pumped your hands on their shafts with more desperation, you heard Yuuta moan softly in response. Fushiguro then reached forward and took the leash from Inumaki, he yanked it harshly causing your airway to close up. His thrusts became more powerful and his dick slid into you scrumptiously. You felt him bite down on your shoulder possessively, knowing that he would leave a nasty mark.

You couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t care. Even though you were suffocating, the pleasure you felt from Fushiguro’s heavenly dick made you drunk on ecstasy. Inumaki took his hand from your thigh to your sensitive clit, he knew exactly how to touch you. His sneaky fingers rubbed your clit at electric speed, making you cry out helplessly. Yuuta placed his hand on your plump breast, squeezing it softly. He teased your pebbled nipples, as they shook vigorously from every thrust. Sparks of hot bliss shook you to your core, you knew you couldn’t last any longer due to the overstimulation.

You were quickly losing feeling in both your hands due to the lack of oxygen, but Megumi was almost there. He clutched the leash tightly while he pounded you ruthlessly. It was sweet, sweet torture, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. The combination of Inumaki’s teasing fingers, Yuuta’s sweet caresses, and Megumi’s constant penetration. You quickly fell victim to your third orgasm.

Your slick juices coated Fushiguro’s rod tastily, giving him more lubricant to plow you with extra force. He came hard and fast, shooting his milky liquid into your pulsating pussy. As soon as he released himself in you, he let go of the leash, and finally, you could breathe again. You gasped for air greedily, taking it in as if you weren’t going to have another chance.

Right on cue, the timer went off. Fushiguro pulled himself out of your comfortable warmth and helped you off Inumaki and Okkotsu. Your cunt leaked cum all over both men’s pants as Megumi guided you off of them and back to the futon.

Your legs felt weak and your cunt was a hot and sticky mess, but you only had three guys left. You can push through a little bit longer, you’re more than halfway there! You sat on the comfy cushions and lazily put your blindfold back on.

Next

[remuswriting]

TO KNOW EVERY SIDE OF YOU

epilogue

note: here is the end of the fic! this is the fluff everyone has been waiting for. i hope everyone has enjoyed this chaotic messy fic as much as i have. there are two written scenes in this: the first scene is after the first three photos and second scene before the last three photos

word count: 1.9k words

prev ✶ masterlist

The breeze cards itself through Atsumu’s hair as he sits in the hospital’s cafeteria courtyard. He’s about to eat shitty hospital food, but he doesn’t mind. Y/N is on his way to share lunch with him. They may not have much time together, but that’s okay. He will take what he can during the day and sleepovers at night when they can.

“There you are,” Y/N says as he sits next to Atsumu. He moves his chair to be closer to him, their arms brushing against each other. “I was looking all over the cafeteria until I saw you through the window.”

Atsumu sits up, puffing his chest out a little. “It must’ve been easy spottin’ someone as hot as me.”

Y/N’s smile causes Atsumu’s stomach to somersault. “More like you’re the only one with blonde hair, but you make a good point. You are very hot.”

It doesn’t matter that Atsumu said it first. His face burns at Y/N’s compliment. He knows he’s bright red, which is annoying, especially when Y/N looks him over with an amused smile. Y/N loves teasing Atsumu to get a reaction out of him, and Atsumu wishes he could figure out a way to get back at him.

“Whatever,” Atsumu mumbles, and Y/N’s cough sounds a lot like a laugh. “What were ya doin’ when I got here?”

Y/N sits up as his eyes sparkle, and he rambles about the surgery he’s trying to scrub in on. He knows he’ll end up in the gallery, but he makes Atsumu cross his fingers and hope he gets to be in the OR. Atsumu doesn’t understand most of what Y/N is saying, but he goes along with it because the joy on Y/N’s face is so beautiful.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Atsumu asks, cutting Y/N off in the middle of explaining the surgery technique the attending will do later. Y/N freezes, mouth parting slightly as he stares at Atsumu, whose anxiety heightens. “Sorry, I—”

“I’ll be your boyfriend,” Y/N says with force behind his words, as if he’s annoyed. “I meant to ask you first, but sure, you can ask first, I guess.”

Atsumu tilts his head to the side. “When were you going to ask me that?”

“Tonight, after the super cool surgery.” Y/N stabs at his food. “But no,” he says, dragging out the word, “you had to ask first.”

It’s not Atsumu’s fault that he laughs. It just tumbles out, because Y/N is being cute. He’s pouting at his rice, not looking Atsumu in the eye, and it’s something Atsumu never sees from Y/N. It’s always professionalism or being unbothered when it comes from Y/N, but here he is pouting because he didn’t get to ask Atsumu to be his boyfriend.

Y/N looks at him, his pout turning into a frown. He’s still ridiculously precious. “Are you laughing at me?”

When Atsumu doesn’t stop, Y/N hits his shoulder slightly. Atsumu squeals slightly. “Hey!” he says, his laughter dying. “What was that for?”

“It was for laughing at me!” Y/N’s frown turns back into a pout. “I thought boyfriends were supposed to be nice. You’re just being mean.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Atsumu says, and Y/N rolls his eyes. “I’m not. You’re just so cute.”

Y/N’s mouth opens a little as he stares at Atsumu. “I am not.” He sits up a little. “Take that back. I’m not cute.”

“But you are!” Atsumu moves away from Y/N to avoid getting his shoulder pushed. “Stop,” he says as he drags the word out and moves his chair a decent distance from Y/N. “Just accept it.”

Y/N crosses his arms as he stares at Atsumu. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“I thought boyfriends were supposed to be nice,” Atsumu says, repeating Y/N’s words and making his frown grow.

“I’ll show you mean,” Y/N says as he stands up. Atsumu thinks Y/N is just going to leave without saying anything else. The thought makes his heart sink and nausea wash over him. However, Y/N leans over the table and presses a kiss to Atsumu’s lips. It’s not coordinated at all—really, it’s awkward—but Atsumu loves it. “That’s it. No more.”

Atsumu groans, because that kiss was nothing. It gave him nothing to sate his Y/N needs for the rest of day, but made them worse. He leans forward, but Y/N leans away. “Y/N-senpai,” he whines.

“No, you were mean, so I’ll be mean,” Y/N says as he sits back down and grabs his chopsticks. He pushes Atsumu’s plate to him. “Now eat up, because you’re a growing athlete.”

Atsumu huffs, and Y/N rolls his eyes, but there’s a soft gentle smile when he does so. A swell of emotion rushes through him. Y/N is his boyfriend, and he’s smiling at him like that. Although his punishment should be seen as cruel and unusual, Atsumu can’t stop the giddiness bubbling in his chest.

“What are you smiling about?” Y/N asks, mouth full of rice.

“I could ask you the same question,” Atsumu shoots back, and Y/N’s smile only grows.

“Well, I’m sitting across from my extremely cute boyfriend,” Y/N says, and Atsumu’s face burns. “Why wouldn’t I be smiling?”

The words tangle in Atsumu’s throat, so he opens his mouth before closing it ungracefully. Y/N calls him cute, but Atsumu just feels embarrassed. “Shut up,” he mumbles.

Y/N laughs a little, and Atsumu’s heart races. “I don’t think I will.” Only five minutes later does Y/N’s pager go off, and he has to hurry off. Before he leaves, he presses a kiss to Atsumu’s forehead and then lips with a little “see you at home.” Atsumu’s chest is warm and his heart full as he leaves the hospital.

Atsumu looks over his shoulder when the front door opens. Y/N drags his feet as he comes in. It’s clearly been another rough shift. Tomorrow will mark working 72 hours this week since he switched shifts with someone so he and Atsumu could have the same day off in a couple of days. It’s brutal, but Y/N does it to he keep Atsumu as close as he possibly can.

“Hey,” Atsumu says, and Y/N immediately goes to him. He wraps his arms around Atsumu’s torso before pressing his face into his back. Y/N deeply sighs as he relaxes every muscle in his body, which fills Atsumu with giddiness. “Everything okay?”

“Just missed you,” Y/N says, and his voice is muffled by his face being smushed. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Atsumu says, honestly. He misses Y/N constantly. He’s fairly certain the only time he’s not missing Y/N is when he’s at practice and can’t think about anything but volleyball. Y/N presses a kiss to Atsumu’s back before pulling away, and Atsumu turns. “Where are you going?”

Y/N’s smile makes Atsumu’s stomach do flips. “I’m going to go shower so you can tell me all about your day.”

Atsumu’s mouth opens slightly as he blinks. “Did you just get gross hospital all over me?”

“No,” Y/N says, dragging it out. “I showered there, but I’d like to shower with hot water and my body wash.”

It’s a constant thing to want to tell Y/N not to go. Wait for him to be there next to him. They don’t have to be next to each other all the time, but Atsumu wants to be. He wants to hold Y/N close to him and bask in the fact that he’s here with Atsumu. “Well, hurry up then.”

Y/N chuckles slightly as he reaches out a gently pinches Atsumu’s cheek. “You’re so cute. I love you.”

Atsumu freezes at the words. It sounded so casual coming from Y/N, as if he’s said it a million times before. They’re nearing four months of being together, and Atsumu loves him back—he’s loved him far longer than they’ve been together. He’s bit his tongue every time he’s filled with overwhelming emotion, because the words just want to tumble out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to scare Y/N away.

“I love you,” Atsumu says, and Y/N lets a breath out as he relaxes. It seems like he thought Atsumu wouldn’t return the feelings, even though he does. He loves Y/N more than his heart can even hold. “Now go.”

Y/N takes a step forward, crowding Atsumu against the counter. The look in his eyes makes Atsumu’s heart beat so hard he hears it in his ears. There’s a dizziness that washes over him as well, because Y/N looks ready to eat him. There have been times they’ve been in this situation, but it’s never gone any further. Atsumu never pushes, though. He was being honest when he agreed to work with Y/N.

“I kind of want to stay here now,” Y/N says as his hands grab the counter, really caging Atsumu in. It doesn’t matter that there’s that slight height difference of being taller than Y/N—it doesn’t feel like it right now. Atsumu feels like Y/N towers over him. He presses a kiss to Atsumu’s jugular. “But I can go if you want me to.”

Atsumu grabs Y/N’s hips to keep him close. “No, don’t.”

Y/N laughs into Atsumu’s skin before pressing another soft kiss. “Are you almost done with dinner?”

He bites back the words of “I can be,” even though he’s not. Self-control is something he’s still not the best at, especially when it comes to Y/N. He’s getting better, though. Just bite back the things he wants to say but knows are not the healthiest things. Y/N helps him with it when he does say something that’s not the best thing for him.

“It has to cook for another 15 minutes,” Atsumu says, and Y/N pulls away from him, but not too far. Atsumu still has a hold of him.

“I’ll take a quick shower then,” Y/N says, but Atsumu doesn’t let him pull away. “We can take a bath together later.”

“I’ll miss you,” Atsumu whines slightly, and Y/N chuckles. It fills Atsumu’s chest with so much warmth.

“I’ll miss you too, but I need a proper shower.” Y/N’s nose brushes against Atsumu’s throat. “You’ll have all of my attention when I’m done.”

Atsumu grumbles as he lets go of Y/N. The warmth beneath his hands is immediately gone, leaving him cold. “Can I sit in the bathroom with you?”

Y/N laughs this time as he shakes his head. “No, because you’re cooking. You should check how it’s doing right now.” Atsumu doesn’t get the chance as Y/N moves to the stove and pauses. “You’re making my favorite?”

A fluttery feeling itches in Atsumu’s chest. “Yeah, you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks, so I thought it’d help—”

“It’s perfect,” Y/N says before reaching over and properly kissing Atsumu. It causes Atsumu’s brain to turn to mush, not getting much better when they pull away. “You’re perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Atsumu says easily. It actually feels good to say it when he’s wanted to say it for so long. He bites back saying it over and over again. He doesn’t want to do too much right off the bat.

Y/N smiles before pressing a kiss to Atsumu’s cheek and pulling away. “My bath can wait until after dinner. Let me go change my clothes, though.”

Atsumu nods. “Okay.”

When Y/N walks towards the bedroom, Atsumu’s chest is full of warmth. This is what happiness feels like—he’s fairly certain it’s greater than happiness. He’s won against Osamu on who will be happiest, because Atsumu is. As long as he has Y/N and volleyball, he’ll be the winner.

THE END

tag list: @thedum1 @vynl1xo9 @grimespial @js-a-silly-little-guy @thecallofmedusa @wannabecatboy @boxboxbv @wxtelxgged @smelliottle @olteacup @moochiwoochi @ardanxri @sunflw3rbouquet @h3xi2g0n3 @gunatth @AtsuM1ya @bluemailhiot

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 23, wc: 571] - tarot card readings : n. yizhuo

YIZHUO COMING OVER AT FIVE in the morning just to do your tarot card readings wasn’t exactly on your 2024 bingo list. now, this isn’t unusual behavior; she’s come over at all sorts of unholy hours to do random stuff, and you let her because she’s yizhuo. warmhearted life of the party, yizhuo.

“what the hell,” you mutter, remnants of sleep blurring your eyesight as you open the door to see your good friend beaming at you with a dusty deck of tarot cards. “do you even know how to use those?”

she lets herself in, scooting around you and taking her shoes off to start beelining to your messy room. you trudge after her, too tired to complain about her uninvited but not unwelcome presence. once she settles comfortably on your bed, she grins and tilts her head, “i’ll never learn if i don’t try, what was that saying again? you have to learn to run before you can walk?”

“it’s you have to learn to walk before you can run, actually,” you correct, sitting across from her on the bed. 

the girl rolls her eyes, waving her hand, “po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

she then blows the dust off of the box, making you flinch and close your eyes before any dust ruins your day, and then places it in between the two of you, lifting the cover off. the deck is intricately designed, and you’re expecting to laugh when yizhuo gets the cards out because she absolutely sucks at shuffling a deck, but to your surprise she handles them like a professional.

perplexed, you raise a brow, “look at you, the little shit—you’ve finally learned how to shuffle!”

yizhuo sends you a playful glare, sticking out her tongue, and proceeds to faro the deck into a bridge, splitting it into three different piles on the bed. then, she draws three cards total from the piles, placing them face down in front of you. “what do you want to know about, your love life?” and without waiting for an answer, “you know what—let’s do love life. i bet you’re curious about that.”

“wait—” you try to protest, but she’s already gone into some kind of meditative state. yizhuo turns the first card over, and it’s the ‘death’ card… yikes. perhaps you have to accept your fate. “what does this mean for me, fortune teller?”

the girl hums for a second, scratching her chin, and her eyes light up with mischief. “you’re doomed.”

with no elaboration, she flips over the next card, which is the ‘hanged man’. “uh… double-doomed.”

“and,” again, she flips the last card, and it turns out to be the ‘devil’. “oh yeah. triple-doomed. sorry y/nnie, looks like your love life is hopeless—you already knew that though.”

“what was that?” you ready your fist, making yizhuo raise her hands up in innocence, “my love life is in shambles because everyone thinks we’re dating.”

good friend™  smirks, leaning back onto the bed which makes some of the cards on the top of the deck slip off to the floor. “you should be honored, babe.”

gross. “don’t ever call me that again.”

she giggles, pulling you over to lay on her chest. “i’m sleepy, babe. let’s go to sleep. it’s like six am.”

“whose fault is that? also, i told you not to call me that.”

and as expected, yizhuo ignores you. “good night, babe.”

love life be damned, you guess.

flufftober masterlist!

a/n : HAPPY BIRTHDAY NINGNING i didnt write ths in time i am so sorry

[petermorwood]

Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)

Long ago, @dduane and I had a Whirlpool combi microwave - micro, grill, fan oven - and It Was Great, big enough to use as a proper oven when what needed cooked in a proper oven was small enough that powering up the big proper oven in the cooker was a bit much.

Still with me...?

IIRC it was one of those Christmas presents where Mum, ever-practical, told us; "get yourselves something really useful but not too expensive (I did say practical!) and I'll go halves."

In 2016, after something like 15 years of pretty-well daily use for one thing and another, the old thing expired by stages, micro first, grill second, oven last - it made great bread up until the end - and went to recycling heaven.

*****

We couldn't find a one-for-one replacement (we needed a free-standing counter-top appliance, everyone was selling built-in), so until once was available (optimism) we bought an ordinary microwave.

NB, this and its successors were only used for ordinary microwave things like reheating, defrosting and dealing with freeze-cook stuff. They got nothing like the amount of use of the old combi, mostly because of being incapable of doing a lot of it. As things turned out, this didn't help much.

About eighteen months later, we had to buy another. If a microwave's enamel interior develops a crack (to this day I don't know how), moisture gets in, rust begins and the enamel pulls off the bare metal. That's when you get "sparking".

This demo is deliberate; believe me, when it's unexpected it's even worse.

A private welder show or lightning storm at the end of the kitchen counter when all you want is a hot cuppa is distinctly unsettling. Also, it's only going to get worse, and we could imagine - boy, could we - what "Much Worse" might look like.

To the recycle dump!

(NB, micros with stainless steel interiors don't seem to do this, probably because they're already tuned to deal with the bare metal.)

The replacement, another ordinary micro, Just Up And Died after eighteen months and, guess what, the quote for a check-up and replacements-if-required was as much as the price of a new one.

(Inkjet printers seem to operate on this principal too.)

To the recycle dump again!

We got a third new one (which BTW is still running just fine, because it's been downgraded to Extra, read on), totalled up what we'd spent on ordinary microwaves, said a few well-chosen words about planned obsolescence and the "Vimes 'Boots' Theory of Economic Inequality" and got ourselves a pre-pay credit card whose top-ups were dedicated to Get A Combi Again.

We didn't bother with GACA baseball caps.

That would have been silly.

I don't know if these cards exist in the USA; we treat them as the modern version of a piggy-bank...

...except that to get at the money you need two people acting in accord.

*****

And in 2021 we got one.

Okay, this next bit is going to read like an ad.

It isn't, because the appliance is discontinued. (Whirlpool FINALLY do something similar but not identical.) It's just enthusiastic users discovering there's even more to a gadget than expected.

*****

The New One even bigger than the old one, which had 28 litres capacity; the new one was 33 L (was .99 ft³, is now 1.16 ft³). In non-tech terms, wow, More Room To Cook In.

Reading the figures was no help (to me, anyway) in visualising what a maw the thing had, but opening the door did that and no mistake.

I said something to DD about "bite radius"...

...and she instantly responded with "anyway, we delivered the bomb".

We're a quotesy household. ;->

BTW, The New One does a very good job on seafood, too...

*****

Since we got this, almost exactly two years ago, we've used it from reheating tea to roasting meat to making chilli / goulash / stew / curry (you can run the oven / grill separately or add simultaneous zaps of microwave for much less cooking time) to baking bread.

One of the best things about it is that when the set cooking time is done, the appliance switches off automatically. No risk of busyness, absent-mindedness or out-in-the-garden-ness ending in clouds of smoke, ruined food and possibly even worse.

As for breadmaking, it has a dough-rise setting which is a Time Machine, reducing a two-hour "doubled in size" rise time to about 35-45 minutes...

It also has the most reliable Defrost Butter setting either of us have ever encountered, turning a rock-solid butter brick from the freezer into something spreadable while never - to date - doing the "never mind a butter-knife, give me a spoon or a paintbrush" thing.

*****

However...

There's also a "Chef Setting" where there are some simple recipes. Here's the pastry page.

Basically, you assemble and mix the ingredients, input the correct settings and the machine does all the timing, heating and cooking.

We'd never used this until yesterday, when DD said, "Let's try the sponge cake..."

Yes, this post was entitled "Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)..." and here we are...

We did all the measuring correctly and checked it by pouring the mixture into a baking container while on the scale, wondering betimes why the recipe says 900g, the ingredients total 925 and what actually poured into the container reads 906... Weird. Really weird.

Then we put the container into the oven, entered the correct code, and let things do what they were going to do.

A little later we discovered something else about the recipe besides a weight anomaly.

It didn't mention the required size of the container. Or or how much the mixture was likely to rise.

It rose...

Let's say more than we expected...

The fluted ceramic container used for baking this one makes it look like a Vesuvius cupcake; not quite a pyroclastic flow, but a lot of flow regardless.

Once it cooled we separated the sponge-cake from the escaped sponge in the same way as sculptors work with wood or marble - "Chip away everything that doesn't look like a cake" - and found that despite its misshapen looks, it tasted pretty good.

So today DD made another, this time using a larger container.

...and this time it stayed put until removed using the cunning base-and-lifting-straps of baking parchment.

It's not the loftiest or best-risen sponge cake either of us have ever seen (a smaller-diameter higher-sided container would probably deal with that) BUT if there's something needing sponge cake in a hurry - this went from cupboard ingredients to done and cooling in less than 55 minutes - that treatment seems to fit the bill.

We're now wondering what other secrets lurk in the simple recipe pages; falafel, quiche Lorraine, stuffed peppers, even Flammkuchen* from scratch.

(*Though I have my own views about Flammkuchen, mostly involving a plane flight...)

And we'll be paying a lot more attention to what size of dish we put them in. :->