#daytime naps will be the end of me

[sunnys-aesthetic]

Love being so sleepy coded i fall asleep for 3 hours mid drawing nsfw for ocs in call. amazing work.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw (Here) | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal

Sleep like the Dead (Inherited): Nothing wakes you anymore. Leona is as "selfish" as they come, and has no regard for your schedule. He doesn't feel remorse for soaking up your time in the slightest. Why should he? Other people do it for 90% of the day. Take a load off, the bags under your eyes are unsightly. If he doesn't want to wake up in the morning? You ain't either. It's a done deal. If the building isn't up in flames then don't bother asking. Evidently, prolonged and frequent daytime siestas take their toll on your circadian rhythm. You now need just as - if not more - sleep than Leona. Napping out in public and at the rowdy Savanaclaw Dorm bestowed upon you a disturbance immunity. Ramshackle could be in the middle of a raid and you wouldn't move. Not unless something singed your skin or really did some damage. It's become an actual problem. Crewel is considering a sleep study.

"Oi, herbivore...stop squirming so much. You almost crushed my tail. Hah? Class? You don't need it. Just borrow notes from one of those little friends or make the cat go....fine. Gimmie your homework later. I can teach you a thing or two. That is, if you can handle it." <- Grim can't be trusted on his own? Not Leona's problem. You're half of a student. Half. Not full. Half. There's your loophole now go back to sleep. Yap any more and he'll roll on top of you. Good luck talking with a mouth full of hair.

Perfume (Developed): This comes about in an awkward manner. Beastmen have keen smell. It's a given. Bada bing, bada boom, Leona knows your scent. He could point out the Ramshackle Prefect from a half-mile radius. Now he's never said your scent is unpleasant. Quite the contrary, although the lion would never admit it. The issue here is that your scent acts as a calling card, and Leona is clingy. So you ask Vil for the most popular perfume, potion, cologne - whatever - and start wearing it to mask your scent. At least enough so Leona's de-buffed to a one-fourth mile radius. It doesn't work entirely. No perfume is that strong. It's also an active assault on Leona's nose...but it had to be done. Side note - this was his plan all along. He isn't keen on non-human folk sniffing you out easily. Beastmen, most Mermen, and even select Fae have keen noses. Not that his own scent isn't a deterrent, but some masking perfume is worth the occasional nose-shank if it keeps snickering busybodies off your tail when he isn't around.

"Here. Take this and throw out whatever crap it is you've got on. You want me to say it flat? You reek." <- Take the scent masking balm he's giving and don't shop retail ever again. His nose hairs are literally burning off. The balm costs more than your entire dorm to make, but Leona won't ever admit it. You have an ultimatum. It's either this, or wearing one of his old vests around Savanaclaw. Now unless you want to be twinning with him and Ruggie, do the man a favor and comply.

Hair Ties (Developed): Bless his genetics for that wonderful, silky mane - but he needs to tame it. With how smothering Leona can be, you end up with a mouthful of hair at least twice a day. Man is tall, and he loves using his prefect as a leaning post. Which is cute but he sheds. So your arm is perpetually wrapped with hair-ties 24/7 like a cased sausage, because every time you give him one it disappears. It's on purpose, of course. He also snaps them whenever you aren't paying attention. Spiteful bas-

Biting (Inherited): Biting is a common display of affection in beastfolk culture. Not that Leona ever bothered to tell you this. His little nips (in no small amount) were usually passed off as punishments for being annoying. A lie, naturally. One could say it’s the human equivalent of cute aggression? Yet it has more meaning since it’s reserved for close connections such as family and lover. Although drawing blood or leaving a mark behind is reserved for the latter. You had to learn all this from a textbook, of course. No one in Savanaclaw was going to butt into Leona’s affairs, and Ruggie found your ignorance a funny game to taunt his Housewarden with. You were on your own, on a quest to save your skin. Literally.

Regardless, it’s Leona’s way of affection. Bonus points since he can do it without you knowing why. It’s only natural that you return the favor, playing along whenever he has to hold composure. Acting as if you don’t know and relishing in his micro- reactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures you out, but it’s so nice to have the upper hand for once.

"That's for showin' up late. Don't like it? Not my problem...yawn if is' so bad, just take my bandanna...Why do you care if it's got Savana colors? Ya spend enough time 'round here, no one's gonna say anything." <- If it really bothered you, he'd stop. King of consent and of reading body language. Otherwise it's a go-go. Also if someone did have a problem with you sporting Savanaclaw colors? He doesn't need to kick their ass. Beastfolk got better hearing than most, and if one of his overhears you getting shit for wearing their dorm's colors then the classic night raven pride will pop out.

Habits He Steals:

Vegetables (Inherited): Leona sticks to meat, cheese, bread, and more meat. Bring on the steak. Bring on the beef. Bring on the deluxe cutlet sandwiches. Savanaclaw's kitchen is the most costly of all the dorms purely for how much Beastmen eat. If Ruggie can guzzle down seven plates in a sitting yet still look like a stick? Imagine a Lion's appetite. No one knows how you managed to get this guy to eat a salad like a true herbivore, but it's a cold day in the Savanaclaw dormitory when Leona's facing down a spinach side-salad on top of his lunch. Meanwhile you're happily munching away at the table, picking random veggies off your own plate to put on his. Each instance accompanied by an agitated twitch of his tale, but the lion's eerily silent. Dire Crowley is right. The Ramshackle Prefect is a Beast Tamer indeed...

"Now I know you didn't just pick at my plate, herbivore. Your luck's running thin...Oi. That's enough. I'll sooner eat one of your limbs than another turnip" <- he, in fact, did eat the turnip. The threat scared his underclassmen so much, that seeing you come around still in one piece the next day earned you a warrior's respect.

Correspondence (Developed): Leona's used to getting a sea of letters from ministers, attendants, and a particular little menace back at the palace. Unless it was an urgent message - he'd let the letters go unchecked after skimming them. Replying always took too much effort, and he'd rather not encourage unexpected visits like during the annual Magiift tournament. That is until you start receiving them as well. Nowhere near the amount Leona deals with - but he'd rather die than have his family telling you things without the ability to intercept. Falena blackmails him into responding to Cheka's letters, or else the little furball is going to use you as a penpal for writing practice. Side Note 2.0 - regardless of Leona's 'cooperative' ways, you still write to the mini lion in 'secret'. He knows but gave up caring.

"Another one? Just toss the damn thing. No - hmph. Give me that. I'll respond, just don't start up the lecture." <- You always manage to find the letters Cheka sends over before Leona can get to them. It clicks that you're a middle-man once they start showing up at Ramshackle instead of his dorm. Leona can't wait too long to respond, otherwise you'll start harping him over how cute the kid's handwriting is or whatever picture he drew. He lets you keep them. Cheka's got his own exhibit on the Ramshackle fridge.

Accommodating (Developed): Leona’s not necessarily a ‘verbal’ communicator, despite his smart mouth that always manages to get the last word. He will not openly lend his aid without a bit of pressing before hand - his pride would never allow it. Take the three days you and Grim stayed in his dorm as an example. Inevitably you earned the right to crash in his room, but there was a roundabout to get there. Mainly for show, since in Savanaclaw things are earned not given. You also weren’t close back then. He wouldn’t go easy on anyone, even if they’re from a different dorm or stranded homeless by some octopunks.

The tides change for you, and only for you. His morals are held high, and his ability to treat a partner well is no exception. There is no glory in being above your supposed equal. Everything is shared. This means Leona’s room is now your room, just as Ramshackle is now partly his. He’s clearing some of his closet out, filling it with your stuff, and doing the same back at your place. Doesn’t even ask and doesn’t give a damn that there are dozens of open rooms. It’s the principle. Sharing a space is letting someone see your most vulnerable being. Not that he’d think you could ever do any significant damage (lies) - but considering he doesn’t want anyone within a five foot radius during his leisure time, Leona giving you open access speaks volumes.

"Hah? So what? It's not like I'm forcin' them into it. Got a problem with how I act? Enlighten me." == Talk about nonchalont. Leona is well aware of the imprint he's left on you. He sees it in the way you talk. The way you think. Not just in the chess matches he makes you sit through over and over. Round after round until you can put him into check. You're confident. You're demanding. You're ripe potential that he got to first before anyone else. You chose him, and no amount of backtalk on your end outshines that you like him enough to mimic his ways. The Ramshackle Prefect’s presence isn't something people can overlook anymore, and Leona is damn proud that he's left a mark.

Habits You Steal:

Extreme Couponing/Haggling (Inherited): If you do not think Ruggie spends his Sunday mornings going through sales ads? You are sorely mistaken. This man is an absolute menace when it comes to hitting the market and squeezing a shop-keep for everything they are worth. Sam fears no creature in all of Twisted Wonderland aside from this particular hyena. Screw fighting blot - grab some popcorn and kick back to observe the game of verbal chess those two engage in every week. It's more entertaining than any battle or show. You will become Ruggie's apprentice. Ain't no partner of his going through life without the ability to haggle. Sam stands no chance.

“Ya get this week’s ad? Good. C’mon over and we’ll get the clippings going. I think I saw somethin’ about a buy-one get-two on those candies ya like. Maybe if your nice enough, I’ll shmooze Sam for a bonus!” <- Ruggie honestly enjoys having a coupon buddy. He makes a show about how you take too long, and that if you don’t wake up early then he won’t stick around! Can’t miss the sale, so he isn’t lying there. Except he does grab what you need on the off chance you do miss the meetup. Side note - he doesn’t just take an apprentice without ulterior motives. This is all in preparation for you to handle the slum markets. If you can’t fight off a few broke students, then you won’t last a day back home.

"Shishishishi" (Inherited): There is no escaping it. For the countless times you've poked fun at his little wheezy laugh - imagine the utter mortification when it came not from him! No no. From you. It's unconscious and in the moment you don't recognize anything wrong. You were only laughing over a won victory against Sam. That new lamp you wanted for your work-desk finally within reach, and 70% off no less! Said conman looks at you with eyes blown wide, because great seven there are two of them now. It takes a moment for self-awareness to hit, but you're too late. Two fuzzy-satellites atop a mop of shaggy blonde curls perk up, and your laugh from before echoes from the original culprit's mouth.

“I heard that! You’re doin’ it wrong. Gotta put more air, Shishishi~” <- Ruggie’s a taunting little turd on a good day. Be prepared. You won’t be living this down. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? Next thing is to train ya in the art of sticky fingers - no? Ugh. Fine. Ya Goodie-Goodie.

Hands Up! (Inherited): Ruggie has a very unique way of standing. Hands behind his head, laced together to support his neck. One hip normally supports most of his weight, and he's always in a deep-slouch. Bro doesn’t need to cast ‘Laugh With Me’ for his movements to be mirrored, because you’re already following along without realizing. Leona finds the mimicry unsettling. Take that freaky shit out of his line of sight.

Habits He Steals:

Sharing Food (Developed): This is the inner hyena coming out. Just like in the slums, it's demanded to share amongst your own. He might be a sleaze to other people, but not to you. This also backfires into Ruggie thinking that what's yours is his as well - but that's not the point. He'll plop down next to you at dinner and wordlessly offer up half of his meal. You need more meat on those bones, he'll say if protested. In turn he'll then take half of your dessert. It's a sign of trust, instinctively believing that whatever's on your plate is safe to eat. Yet also shows that he's taken you as one of his - and that's a privilege no one at NRC has. No strings attached because everything you both have is shared. On a side note, you'll never be-rid of Ruggie once this comes to pass.

Shared Wardrobe (Developed): Again with the collective treasure hoard, but with a twist. Ruggie can essentially squeeze into most clothing or modify them to his needs. If it works, then it works. So he'll happily offer up any modified dregs he has for your usage, and in turn he will claim whatever clothes you aren't overly attached to. There is also the matter of scent, of course. Ruggie is the type of person to cut up one of your old pajama shirts and fashion arm-bands, making sure to have one knotted around his bicep at all times. You in turn are welcome to swipe his bandanna at your leisure in place of that tacky uniform tie.

“Hey…you seen my blaz - hah? Uh, nevermind. I’ll go grab somethin’ else. Where’d ya leave the heavier coat Gran sent over. Forget it, I’ll just go check myself” <- The first time you snag one of his oversized blazers or hoodies gets him. It gets him bad. Sharing with Leona was one thing but, c'mon. Warn a guy would ya? You're so lucky he's an opportunist on quick feet, so of course he’ll take the chance to steal something you wear often. Ruggie’s great at brushing off any taunts or quips. Being Leona’s right hand gets him stable back at Savanclaw, but that doesn’t take away years of being the underdog. Whether the other beastfolk stare at him openly brandishing your clothes means little, if anything, he enjoys it. Cause once again the underdog’s got a top prize.

Caffeine Addiction (Inherited): Ruggie spends more time and effort running around than most. His *hobby* is doing part-time work. Those overpriced sugar-loaded drinks never appealed to him because why waste money when powering through is just as effective? Or chugging some ice water? Yet you seemingly always have some sort of caffeine to make it through the hell NRC dishes out, and Ruggie being a mooch is always there to steal at least 1/3 of it. Now he’s trained and gets extremely sluggish around mid-day without a dose. It’s your fault if he falls off his broom during spelldrive practice.

"Wha'cha trying to say with that tone, huh? Think I'm not good enough? 's that it? There're way worse chumps to take after. Way I see it? They're learnin' how to make it in this world, sha ha ah! So thanks!...eh, why're you still here? Shoo already." == Considering rumors never have anything good to say about Ruggie's attitude, he's not dumb enough to take the little 'compliment' as genuine. More like as a backhanded sight towards your relationship. Rugs could care less about what those nobodies have to say. Not like they've got anything he's after, just some busybodies that scurry off with their tail between their legs when things get rough. Even if you catch word of it, Ruggie ain't going to get pissy because they're right. Everything they're saying is right, he is rubbing off on you. He is actively trying to. Life isn't a peach and it's not like he's strong enough to protect you from the hardships. It'll be a big laugh if you pull that righteous crap and try to defend his honor, though. Someone better get it on camera.

Habits You Steal:

Paternal Disappointment (Inherited): There was a time, a simpler time, a Jack-less time...when you were a fool. No. You are one to this day, but it is better tamed under Jack's strict aura of perpetual disappointment. Once on the side of being scolded with Ace and Deuce, you are now the one doing the scolding. You are not fun anymore. There is a stick shoved so far up your ass, and it's now part of your internal organ system. Ace dubs you a traitor, as does Grim. You've gone to the dark side in exchange for the morally sound wolfboy to offer cuddles and the occasional snack. I'm sorry to tell you this dear prefect but you've become....*gasp* the (mom/dad) friend.

“Boring? Who said you were boring?…don’t listen to those jerks. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. They’re just upset that they can’t get away with murder anymore - Uh, not t-that I was jealous or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! . Hmph.” <- Jack doesn’t take offense when others call him names, but he doesn’t like when you’re brought into it. At all. Especially because he used to be jealous how you, Ace, Grim and Deuce were more tight-knit than with any of the other first years. Like a pack. That behavior is childish, and Jack hates that he used to think that way. As if your attention was something he had to fight over. It's not like he wanted the same bond you shared with those three either, that's friendship and he wanted more. By being with you, Jack knew that it was going to put him on a different tier than the others. That's just what happens. Part of him feels guilty that you might be losing face because of him. His reputation isn’t bad, but he does have a resting angry face. Reassure him in turn and Jack will be over the moon. Any happier and his wagging tail can become a makeshift duster for the dorm (Were he on earth, he’d definitely get the nickname ‘tails’. After the sonic character, just to clarify)

Meal Prep (Inherited): This is actually an amazing influence and is wonderful for someone on a tight-schedule. You're not going to be eating high-protein meals every night, neither wasting away in an attempt to chug down pre-workout shakes. That's on Jack and Jack alone. Helping him prep meals is a nice touch and a pleasant evening spent together once a week. You don't become strict with it, but Jack does convince you to at least prepare some of your favorite dishes as snacks/emergency meals. He also constantly shoves energy water and vitamins in your bag. No more cup-noodle or scrap sandwiches on those nights you don't reach the mess hall on time. Now you have balanced meals, and get to flaunt matching containers with your boyfriend. Very cute. Everyone hates both of you.

"Uh...are all those stickers really necessary? I know we agreed on matching boxes but this is a bit...No! I'm not embarrassed! Gah, just keep it to a minimum. Nothing that falls off or sparkles." <- He is flustered beyond compare after every track meet. At first he barely bat an eye, thinking nothing of the orange bento box with chibi-cactus stickers and his name written in bold bubble lettering on top. You decorated it just for him, and if it meant you would carry around a spare meal then that's even more incentive. Yet the smell of fresh food attracts jocks after a meet like nothing else, and the teasing was relentless. It isn't enough to stop him from enjoying his meal, though.

Lint Roller (Developed): Leona sheds, but Jack? He is like owning six full-grown huskies. He apologizes profusely for the shedding, especially since the NRC uniforms are black. You run through lint rollers like Deuce runs through eggs. It isn't Jack's fault, but man. Ramshackle collects both dust and fur bunnies these days.

Habits He Steals:

Piggy-Back(Developed):Jack carries you everywhere. He's normally very patient but when there's a place to be? Well, he wants to get there on time. Jack has a strict bedtime at 10:00pm sharp and so his free hours are scarce. Do you want enough time to enjoy the lakeside as planned? If so, hop on his back so no time is wasted. Jack also pressures you to join him for morning and evening jogs. He refuses to give up his diligence, but also is acutely aware that there is little spare time he can afford you during the week. Either you have to keep up with him, or you're getting used as a makeshift weight and being hauled across campus. Relationships need quality time to grow and this is the perfect excuse to hog your attention for two hours every day. Not that he'd admit it, but the swish of his tail while you chat is enough to tell Jack's enjoying his runs much more than before.

"Are you comfortable? Just let me know if I'm going too quick. I'll try not to jostle you around too much...if you're tired then take a nap. I'll wake you when we're back home." <- He'd prefer if you didn't sleep. It messes with your circadian rhythm, but the whole point of this is to help you relax. Just knowing you're with him is enough to make Jack happy. Rain or shine, no excuses. If it's cold he'll let you use his hair to block out the chill, although he'd never let you out in anything less than the proper gear. Even if he joins Deuce or Vil on occasion - you're his favorite running partner.

Safety (Developed): Jack asks you to text him twice a day. Once in-between class, even though you’ll be spending lunch together, and once before bed at 9:30pm. The morning isn’t needed since he’s your alarm clock. He understands that as a prefect, you don’t have a curfew like the majority of students. Yet he is communicative with concerns about you being outside of Ramshackle late after dark. Even when you were just friends, hearing the story of when A-Deuce hauled you to that abandoned mine in the middle of the night? The blot monster and how close it came to you guys not making it? Magic or not, that would worry anyone with common sense. It doesn’t help that Ramshackle has no security beyond its resident ghosts.

"- and you just went with them? Because the headmaster told you to? Are you insane!?...No. You're right. What's done is done. Just...call me if something like that ever happens again." <- Thank the seven Jack's hair is already white.

Jack never thought he’d care this much about anyone. When your partner is a walking heart-attack, in the best way possible mind you, one just wants some piece of mind.

Covering Ears (Inherited): It's a natural response to cover your ears when frightened. Like when watching a scary movie and you don't want to hear what comes next. Jack covers his ears because they're sensitive, and loud noises can cause a migraine quicker than anything else. Especially when they're sudden. His hearing is more sensitive than most, being a wolf beastman. It's almost on par with Leona's. Yet his first instinct when there is a loud noise is to cover your ears instead of his. Even though you're human, the instinct to protect them takes over. It's also his way of being within arm's reach in case of a threat. You must be scared being in a new place. Jack will never let himself forget that. Nor how brave you are for continuing on regardless.

"What a relief...huh? Nah, I didn't say anything. Isn't there a test coming up in Alchemy next week? Want to hit the books together?" == The type to divert the topic as quick as possible, on the chance that he lets too much slip. Needless to say that Jack is relieved to hear that you're mimicking him on an unconscious level. It means that you trust him. That you respect him and see him as an equal. It's the biggest compliment Jack can ever ask for. If people are automatically associating you together, then it means he's done his job. You're part of his pack - and outsiders can recognize it at first glance. He'll do a good job at hiding how happy it made him, but expect that tail to wag at torpedo speed the next time he sees you.

[cameronsbabydoll]

What's Military!Rafe reader's morning/daily routine? Pls I wanna be sexe like her

- 🐼

♡ MORNINGS

5:30-6:00 a.m.: rafe’s internal alarm goes off

no phone. no snoozing. just up.

kisses your forehead, checks the locks (again), maybe goes for a run or hits the garage gym barefoot and shirtless (ugh).

when he comes back? sweaty, shirtless, smug.

“you’re starin’, baby. you want somethin’?”

7:00 a.m.: your soft wake-up.

he climbs back into bed to wake you gently — hand on your thigh, kisses on your shoulder, rubbing your back while whispering,

“come on, sugar. need my girl up. whole house don’t run right without you.”

he always lets you sleep a bit longer, especially if you’ve been up with the baby.

7:30-8:00 a.m.: breakfast chaos

the kids are up. the dogs are barking. rafe’s flipping eggs like a man possessed.

“you get juice, i’ll get diapers.”

he insists on making breakfast for you even when you try to help.

“sit. eat. i’ll clean it.”

(you always end up cleaning with him because you like the way he rinses dishes with one hand on your waist.)

♡ DAYTIME (when he’s home)

if he’s on leave or not working, he helps with everything:

errands, yardwork, post office runs, vet visits. but he’s weirdly intense about laundry day — folds with military precision and gets frustrated when you “mess up the system” by tossing in a rogue sock.

“that don’t go in the baby’s drawer, darlin’. c’mon now.”

baby boot camp:

if your baby’s learning to sit up, crawl, or walk — he’s on it. stopwatch in hand. soft voice saying “you got it, soldier. daddy’s right here.”

nap time:

he’ll hold the baby while they nap on his chest, watching documentaries with the volume real low while you finally shower or rest.

and if you try to fold laundry while the baby’s down?

“absolutely not. go lay down. i got this.”

♡ ERRANDS / OUTINGS

he never lets you carry anything heavy. ever. groceries, water bottles, even the stroller if he’s home.

stands behind you in public with a hand on your back or hip at all times.

buys you little things at checkout without asking: lip balm, your favorite gum, stuff you pointed out once three weeks ago.

“figured you wanted it. don’t argue.”

♡ EVENINGS / WIND DOWN

dinner: he’ll grill anything. steak, salmon, burgers, doesn’t matter. wears an apron that says “kiss the cook or else.”

pulls you onto his lap at the table when the kids are done eating.

“sit with me. just for a sec. missed my girl.”

bath time: for the kids and sometimes for you.

he’s the kind of dad who does silly voices with bath toys, then kisses your shoulder in the hallway after while the kids scream in the other room.

“after bedtime? you’re mine.” (he means it.)

late night:

always triple-checks doors, sets out your robe, plugs in your phone.

sleeps shirtless, dog tags on, arms wrapped around you under the blanket.

if the baby cries, he’s up first.

if you cry? he’s already pulling you into his chest, whispering “i’m right here. ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Somno mention!!! Obey me brothers with a reader who’s into somnophilia? Maybe also Barbatos? 💚

Ofc ofc!

Obey me brothers with a somnophilia Mc

Lucifer

He often deprives himself of sleep so he is more than excited when he learns of this kink. He can finally relax but it won't be forced upon him to sleep as well? A win win for him. He of course asks repeatedly if you're okay with it and once after about a hundred asks he is on board. He often goes slow. He doesn't want to disturb your sleep too much and dragging out the sex leaves him sleepier at the end. But if he was really riled up or irritated that day you will be woken up with rough poundings he just couldn't hold back.

Mammon

He is on and off with this. He sometimes sleeps early and sometimes sleeps very late. He loves this information because usually whenever you nap out in the open he really takes advantage of it. He doesn't care if his brothers are around or not he's taking that damn chance. He isn't rough per say just fast still pleasureable ofc. He is very random with this due to his random sleep schedule and well him sleeping naked just helps with this kink as well.

Levi

He didn't believe you at first as he usually does. He kept re asking if it was okay alike Lucifer and it took a thousand responses for him to get it. He was scared at first and only used his hands but as he became more comfortable he started to almost do it nightly since he finds it hard to sleep as well. He's usually gaming but with you infront of him and willing to be fucked even when sleeping makes it more appealing than some game. He also isn't too intimidated by sex since you aren't staring directly into his soul which he loves ofc but it's still a little much for him. So this works out perfectly. He is usually slow but he is loud ASF.

Satan

He was intrigued by this of course. He was a bit confused on how it would work. Wouldn't you not be aroused since you're asleep? Oh boy was he wrong on that. After practically experimenting on your body he gained a nice flow of things. He often times wakes you up by accident because he becomes a bit too rough but with a few breathy apologies and his cum inside you (or on you) it doesn't seem all that bad.

Asmos

He enjoys his beauty sleep so despite many beliefs he doesn't feed into this kink often unless it's where you are napping during the daytime. He will play with you out in the open like Mammon because he has no embarrassment or restraint when it comes to you. He is slow but also drags out very strong orgasms that tend to wake you up for just a bit only to return back to sleep as he cleans you up. After care king (when he's not the one getting plowed)

Beel

With this gained information your pussy/ass will be sore ASF. He is usually up late at night because he can't sleep due to being hungry. Instead of destroying the fridge he gets to destroy you🤗 He usually tries to be gentle but let's be honest he is anything but easy to take. He also is a service top so the pleasure is spiked high with him. He will eat you out for hours too and just tell you to go back to sleep if you randomly wake up. (Yeah right)

Belphie

He ofc loves when you do it to him so he will return the favor whenever he is awake when you're not. Again he doesn't care who is around he will be on you. He loves using his hands because fucking is a little too much sometimes so it's often him either eating you out or fingering you. If he feels riled up enough to fuck you it's quite rough and he does it to see how tough he has to be to wake you up. He doesn't stop regardless but still. He also loves to mark up your body as he does so which is what actually wakes you up since his ass bites hard on purpose so the marks last longer.

Barb

He is alike Lucifer in not being able to sleep doing way too much. After learning this he feels an odd sense of excitement. He usually likes when you're awake for your sessions together. But as he watches your sleeping figure squirm from his touch he doesn't believe it's so bad. He purposely edges you even as you sleep because he wants to test how far he can get you until you wake up. He ends up enjoying it a bit too much.

[starmocha]

i'm on the run with you, my sweet love [Sylus/Reader ★ 3737 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Forever your ride or die. A/N: Happy New Year! I’ve had this story written since Christmas 2024, but I had decided to save it to ring in the new year instead. Kind of based on my favorite Sylus phone call: As You Wish. This is…very………vague…….something…… I’m here for the vibes mostly. :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia 【 request to be added 】

When everything came to a pause, when the whole world had shifted and all eyes were on you, a bounty had been placed on your head and your name suddenly known to the whole universe.

He had whisked you away, his hand in yours, no questions asked.

Where you go, I’ll go with you, he had said, his hold firm, his vow unyielding.

It’s not safe with me. They’ll get you, too, you had warned, giving his hand a little squeeze, almost afraid that you would lose him as well.

Sounds exciting, sweetie.

He had smirked, his lips on yours, a promise that nothing would ever sever his bond with you.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, head pressed to his back, and the sound of his motorcycle raced down the dusty road to nowhere. A trail of dust was left behind, the heat of the sun bore down on you, and the unknown future awaited both of you in the distance.

On the way to the end of the world, you said goodbye to what you had once thought was home, all of the people who had ever loved you were gone.

Except him.

Are you crying?

…No…

Let me hold you. For me.

…Okay…just for you, though…

Thank you, sweetie.

In an unassuming shabby safehouse, one of many he owned around the world, you felt a moment of peace, as false as it may be.

He paced the living room, exhaustion etched on his features. He still hadn’t adjusted to this daytime schedule, and though not a word of complaint or discomfort ever left his lips, you knew he had been pushing himself to his limits to keep you safe.

Sylus, you called, worried, come rest.

He reassured you with a smile, a near perfect façade had it been anyone else he was trying to fool. You knew when he would put on a mask, and you didn’t like it—you were upset that he was lying to you for your sake.

I’m tired, you fibbed, Can we nap together?

Strange how you didn’t feel any qualms about lying for his sake instead. You supposed you were a hypocrite.

Very well. He seemed to concede. What a fussy kitten.

There was no malice in his words. There never were.

You guided his head to your lap, his body barely fitting on the small sofa, but it would do. You stroked his hair, seeing him surrendering to his exhaustion—surrendering to you, as well.

You hummed a song, something light and soothing. His soft snoring soon joined your melody, the two sounds bringing life to this long unoccupied house.

For a moment, this unassuming, shabby safehouse almost felt like a home.

It would be nice to make this place a true home with him, you thought. Some fresh flowers, a little sunlight, and maybe a picture or two could help with the illusion.

Such wishful thinking. You knew in a few days you would both need to leave. This was only temporary.

You needed to go farther—to the place where everything was new and you were nothing more than an unknown drifter seeking something permanent.

For now, though, you both rested. You let your song soothed him, just as his presence had given you hope.

You often wondered what permanent looked like. You also wondered if you and he had the same definition for the word. There were more idle times now than before, so you both humored one another with your own thoughts and whims.

A little cottage in the woods, you thought aloud as you and he lazed about on the couch. You could have a little vegetable garden, and maybe you could also learn how to make your own bread as well.

He could hunt, or perhaps, he could also put his fishing skills to use.

You might even raise chickens. Maybe some ducks, too.

Sweetie, you have it all planned out, he teased, pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away, but you couldn’t deny this. You had thought about this life. Thought about it often, in fact. You couldn’t help it. It seemed you had more time to let your mind wander.

Well, you weren’t alone. He also had his own thoughts, his own vision he wished to share.

A seaside house on a cliff, he suggested, adding, We could watch dolphins from the balcony. And have a gin fizz or two.

You laughed and shook your head. What, no tequila?

Tequila can be for breakfast, he added, matching your humor with the same tone and a playful smirk.

We could also have a hot tub on the deck, he added with a lecherous smirk on his handsome face. A nice soak as we watch the sun set over the horizon.

Yeah? Your heart beat faster, his lips looming near yours.

We could also stargaze together, he continued in that same easy tone. So teasingly close, his lips just barely ghosted against yours. He must be doing this on purpose, wanting to see you fluster and squirm because of him. What a scoundrel.

You have it all planned out, you echoed his earlier words back to him, his immediate response that nearly insufferable trademark smirk of his. You caved in first, eagerly taking his lips, wanting to quell the growing heat between the two of you.

He succumbed to your whims, his back suddenly against the couch cushions, your body on top of his. He answered your desperation with his own, all lucid thoughts leaving as you both submitted to your instincts, letting your desires guide you both to Heaven and Hell and back again.

An apartment in the city.

In the city? Again, sweetie?

What better place than hidden in plain sight?

A clever kitten.

You remembered wining and dining under starry skies. The rich food filled your belly wonderfully and the aged wine tasted like the sacred nectar of the gods. Blissfully tipsy, you remembered dancing with him on a rooftop, swaying and twirling, feeling like you were on cloud nine as the stars above shined brilliantly while city lights twinkled and gleamed.

In a humid, cramped bus, you leaned against his shoulder, remembering distant memories that might as well just be silly old fairy tales.

The days blended together. Most days, you weren’t sure if it was Monday or Tuesday, or perhaps it was neither, and it was actually Thursday.

He had acquired a car. Temporary, just like everything else in your life had been these past few months. As he filled the car with gas, you wandered into the convenience store. That particular scent hit you instantly, a strange feeling of nostalgia for something you had never missed.

You wandered down the aisles, hand skimming over the different snacks on display. None of them really caught your eyes or stirred up a craving, but you still picked out a few just in case. As you were checking out, you also grabbed an ice cream bar. The heat was unbearable and a strawberry shortcake bar suddenly sounded enticing. You missed the taste of fresh fruits, something that you never thought would one day be scarce and a sudden luxury.

As you left the store, ice cream bar unwrapped and the refreshing, cooling sweet taste on your tongue, you remembered the time when you and he went to pick strawberries together.

He had already finished refilling the gas tank. As he leaned against the car waiting for you, sunglasses over his eyes, you approached him, holding the cold treat up.

Want a bite?

He smirked, and took a generous bite to your dismay.

H-hey! That was a big bite!

Sorry, sweetie. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. What a prick.

I hope you get brain freeze.

And he laughed, already getting back into the car with you following suit. When you turned to buckle your seatbelt, his hand was on your cheek, already guiding you to his lips. He kissed you sweetly, nibbling on your lips as he tasted you.

When he parted, he smirked at your confusion, your breathing still shaky.

You had ice cream on your lips, he answered matter-of-factly.

Flustered, it took your brain a few seconds too long to register his mischievous words. When it finally clicked, you leaned back over, this time surprising him as you took charge. You kissed as if it was your last, as if he was the air that you needed, and he responded with equal fervor, treating you like a gift bestowed upon him by the highest being, or perhaps more like a forbidden treasure he had greedily coveted. Before the growing lust could cloud your mind, all semblance of reality returned when you heard the incessant honking from the car behind you, and had he been in a sour mood, perhaps there would have been an altercation, one that would end horrendously for the other party, of course.

But he smirked. He leered at the car behind him before speeding off. As he drove, you noticed him licking his lips.

Strawberry, he said, pondering, We should get this ice cream bar again.

You agreed, delighting in the taste of him that still lingered on your lips.

All thoughts disappeared, all of those dirty matrasses from dingy motel rooms didn’t seem to matter. You would always welcome him into you, the late, long nights of lovemaking a sweet escape from the reality you lived. In these little moments of you and him, he was your whole world and you were his. Deep kisses branded your skin, the heated moans of you and him mingled with every movement, every pulse, the need to chase after that paradise heightened by the shared growing passion.

You had memorized his every feature, his every being. The jewel-like crimson eyes of his always reflecting his deep devotion to you, the promise to always surrender to you had long been fulfilled. With every searing hot touch, he worshiped you like a devout man knelt at the altar of a goddess, beseeching her blessings.

He satisfied all of your needs, your desires his to fulfill, willingly and devotedly. No rules to bind you, nothing more to lose, you succumbed to your desires, drifting off to a state of pure euphoria only he could bring you to, just as you were all that he longed for, the only one who he would let rule his heart and bring him to his knees.

When you returned from your high, with the threat of dawn looming, he held you close, gentle fingers threading through your hair soothingly, his warm, deep voice feeling like home.

He lulled you with words of a distant future.

Maybe…we can get a dog.

You laughed. You don’t seem like a dog person, you reminded him, your finger poking his cheek in jest.

He smiled, and grabbed your wrist. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, the simple act had you stilling with pretty rosy cheeks, illuminated in the dark by a single ray of moonlight.

A cat then, he said, his voice teasing. He stroked your cheek, his fingers just barely skimming against your skin. Maybe two, so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Yeah? you asked, breathless, What else?

He hummed as he contemplated. White picket fences…Have coffee ready for you in the morning…red checkered blanket and a picnic under the sun…

It doesn’t sound like you… you quipped.

It could be me, he responded, his hand moving to tuck strands of hair behind your ear, his soft voice continuing, It could be us. And also—

His words stopped abruptly, sparking your curiosity. You questioned him, but he only answered with an ambiguous smile and a dismissive, amused shake of his head, as if what he was thinking was nothing of importance to dwell further.

It’s late, he whispered, kissing your forehead, Sleep, my beloved.

As you settled more comfortably into his embrace, you felt his hand resting over your lower abdomen, the touch unlike any other time he would embrace you. As your heavy eyelids closed, you realized the words he had withheld, the hopeful future even he seemed too scared to voice into existence.

In your dream, you could have sworn you heard the pitter-patters of small feet on hardwood floor, and his voice full of joy as he effortlessly swept up into his strong arms two little children, a boy and a girl, perfect blends of you and him.

Such a shame that it was only a dream, you thought the morning after in bed as you watched him shaved the five o’ clock shadow from his face in the dirty motel bathroom.

In the mirror reflection, he noticed you sitting up in bed, the cover barely covering your nude body, hair in disarray, and he smiled. You smiled back.

Such a shame indeed, you thought again, feeling a strange ache in your chest as your mind drifted back to the little boy and girl in your dream.

It was amazing how you still had an appetite.

Eggs and bacon seemed extra delicious at diners in the middle of nowhere. As if stuck in time, it looked nothing like the modern eateries you were familiar with. Black and white checkered flooring, large red booths, an old barely working jukebox in a corner—everything seemed like it was untouched by modern advancements, living peacefully in its own world of idle monotony.

As you finished your meal, he stood up, walking over to the ancient jukebox out of curiosity.

He perused the song choices, brows furrowed in contemplation before he settled on one:

In the still of the night / I held you / Held you tight.

Your head lifted at the smooth crooning, eyes meeting his just as he walked back to the booth, his hand extended to you. Silently, a little embarrassed, you took his hand, just like you always seemed to do.

Promise I’ll never / Let you go.

He twirled you around before his hand found your waist, steadying you as he moved you to the rhythm of the music. In the near empty diner, you danced with him, remembering a time long ago, you two had also waltzed just like this.

To keep your precious love.

Your head rested against his chest, his arms around you as he swayed you gently to the music as it faded to silence. Even long after the song had ended, you stayed in his arms, holding firmly onto the one constancy you still held from your past.

Things could get worse.

I’ll be there every step of the way.

An old television set, from decades ago, flashed for an instance a photo of you. Without words, he had dropped a generous amount of bills on the table, his hand already reaching for yours and taking you away before anyone could be wiser.

By the time the waitress had come to clear the table, her tired mind suddenly realizing as she looked from the television back to the empty booth, the young couple had already left town. Discreetly, she tucked away the extra bills into her bra, and resumed her monotonous day, blissfully ignorant and a few hundred dollars richer.

In an old convertible from long ago, driving down an endless, deserted road, you woke up in the passenger seat to his—peculiar—singing alongside the car radio:

No matter what you are / I will always be with you / Doesn’t matter what you do, girl.

You giggled and he turned to look at you momentarily before his eyes redirected to the long road ahead. The radio continued to play the song as you and he conversed:

You’re actually laughing at me, he quipped. You’re so cruel, sweetie.

With you, you corrected him cheekily.

Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was laughing.

You were, you insisted audaciously.

In that case, laugh with me then, sweetie.

You giggled again. I don’t know this song.

His eyes remained ahead, but his right hand reached over to rest on your thigh. He squeezed you gently in reassurance, and as the song neared the end, he sang along again, Ooh girl, you girl, want you.

The radio played the next song, but you settled in your seat, his hand still resting on your thigh and you hummed again the previous song before the gentle drive lulled you back to sleep again. As your consciousness faded away, you heard distantly his voice singing the current song:

So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep / Sometimes / All I need is the air that I breathe / And to love you.

The time that passed made the line between reality and dream blurred. The life you lived, running away with him felt more dreamlike with each passing day as you bounced from old motels to grand estates to the most discreet safehouses he owned. Nothing in either of your life felt permanent right now, except for each other, the only constancy in this reckless fleeing.

You had both discarded your names, only taking them back at night when you were both truly alone, feeling like two lost souls abandoned by the universe. In the dark, you moaned each other’s name, such lovely sounds as warm breath ghosted over slicked skin.

Your hands lightly touched his face, his eyes always locked with yours. Your shuddering gasps and his barely-restrained moans followed in suits as his hands gripped tighter your hips, guiding you up and down on his length. You kissed him, crying as he pierced you again and again, his movements rushing as he felt you nearing your release.

…I can’t…I need to…Sy…please…please…

Hngh…ye-yes…

He was panting, his eyes darkened by the heavy arousal of seeing you, his beloved, falling apart for him—because of him. You arched forward into him, his name spilling out from your lips and pleasure coursed through your entire being. With a few more rushed thrusts, his own release came, his deep groans resonated in your ears as he filled you full.

Collapsed on him, you both rested lazily together with his softened member still inside you and his seed dripping obscenely down your thighs. You hummed into his skin, boneless and satisfied, his warmth so familiar and addicting.

Just two nobody’s in the world, but in this moment, it felt like no one else existed and you were both truly the last of your kind.

How heavenly.

Away, away, you ran from town to town, the final destination only a vague dream. The further you ran, the lighter your heart felt. In his eyes, the bird that was caged was now soaring high. His only wish was to save her before her wings were clipped, and now he would follow her wherever she would take him, her song beckoning him to a paradise for two.

Don’t let go.

Sweetie, you’re stuck with me for life.

Higher and higher, you soared, the sun threatening to scorch your wings.

If you fall, you knew he would be there to catch you. So, you continued to fly, your hand outstretched. All of Heaven would be yours to command. You were going to unlock paradise, a place for two kindred spirits, the last of their kinds, forevermore tethered to one another.

Eventually, the dream came to an end, life catching up within a flash.

You had grown a little careless, believing that you were just a nobody drifting through life, forgetting that there was still a hefty bounty to your name.

Someone had seen your face. Someone had snitched. You wondered if they truly believed you were dangerous, or perhaps it was merely just human greed that drove them to expose you. You supposed it didn’t really matter in the end now. It was all over anyway.

You looked to him, and he to you. A silent exchange of words, an understanding reached.

The distant sirens grew louder and louder as they approached your final hideout.

There was banging outside the motel room, scattered voices calling for your surrender. There would be no negotiation. It wouldn’t matter if they dragged your dead body out instead. On command, a red laser dot maneuvered into the room from the open window, aligning to your head. Your heart was racing, but you stayed grounded, your eyes locked on his.

In just seconds, everything was about to change.

Five.

Four.

Do you trust me? he asked, his hand held out.

With my life, you answered automatically, your hand in his, and with a tug, you were pulled into his familiar warmth, safe and secured as a gunshot sounded and the glass window shattered. His large hand pressed your head gently to his chest, shielding you from the sounds, and just like that, you both left this world behind, disappearing into the swirls of red and black mist he had summoned before the motel door came crashing down.

One.

The end.

Somewhere, in another place, in another time, you woke up to clear blue skies, white picket fences, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, and you heard his laughter mingling with the sweet giggles of two little children.

You hummed pleasantly into your pillow, the sounds of footsteps getting louder and louder until the bedroom door opened. The bed shifted, his heavy weight on you, and your children’s assaulting kisses stealing away your breath and laughter.

Joyful tears brimmed your eyes, your belly aching tremendously from helpless laughter, and your heart at peace as he gazed down at you, his love steadfast and true.

It was almost nine in the morning, but you stayed lounging in bed, surrounded by all that mattered to you. Your children snuggled close to you on either side, your one free hand reached out for his, his hold ever familiar and constant.

His smile mirrored yours, the same devotion in his eyes just like long ago when he took this same hand and whisked you away, running and running until you found your home again at the end of the world.

His thumb caressed yours, his honeyed voice a sweet lullaby. I love you.

And you smiled back. I love you more.

He laughed, surrendering once more to you, always for you.

The past seemed distant, the future too far away. Cradled in the present, in this instance, the world seemed at peace again, and life moved on.

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 10; "Are you ever dreaming of me?"

a/n: girl i had to literally grind and write all of this today bc surprise song release means daisy and oliver have a fucking STORY TO TELL YALL enjoy this mess.

Humming. 

Soft, sweet, supple humming. It vibrated like a bee buzzing close to my ear. Was there pollen growing there? Had I morphed into some type of flower?

Was I leaking honey? 

The humming lifted sweetly, a higher octave. I almost recognized the song, the tilt in it’s lift, the bend in its melodic swing. No, I did recognize the song. It was…it was something so familiar that I couldn’t put my finger on it. 

“What is that?” I asked. The picture that I had not realized was fuzzy focused, above, like an Eagle’s scope. I was watching somebody. 

But, I was in my body. I was there, on those white crested sheets, sheets that were pristine but in need of an iron. I was shivering, heat rolling down my spine as the humming kissed the shell of my ear and a voice whispered into my drum. 

“A song.”

It was amused, almost. Teasing, maybe? It knew something I did not know. 

“Yeah, but what song?” I watched the dimples in my cheeks punch holes in my face and felt the laughter gently vibrate my chest. 

The humming was…a person. A shadow, real, but so fuzzy. An outline. A depleting figure. 

They shifted. They whispered, again, “You know it.”

I giggled again. Why was I so stricken with this…thing? “I can’t put my finger on it.”

The person/shadow hummed again. This time, the hum emphasized the soft rise in the song, but still did not sing any words. I could feel the rest of them now, their hands flat against my hips and stomach, their chin pressing into my shoulder. The breeze exited their mouth each time they breathed. Mint. Something…else. Someone.

“Are there words?” 

They chuckled this time. Then, took a chest-heavy breath before singing, “I once was poison…”

I could hear the wet touch of their tongue to their lips as the words thwacked. “But, now…”

My lips uncontrollably went taut as a smile overcame my blushing cheeks. “Now, I’m your daisy,” I’m not a good singer, so I didn’t try. I just whispered the words back and twisted to meet the shadow’s eyes. 

He continued, grinning, white teeth shining over pink lips, sleepy, bagged-eyes. “Baby, for you I would fall from grace,” his one hand slid up and over my cheek. I followed it’s line and watched as black paint smeared my skin. “Just to touch your face…if you walked away-”

Oliver did not get a chance to finish because my alarm was going off. 

That wasn’t the first dream/nightmare/shit show that had invaded my nighttime slumbers or, even, daytime naps. But, it was the first in nearly 6 months. It had been really bad for the first couple of weeks. I don’t think I got a full night’s sleep for at least a month. I was up after every dream, sweating, sobbing, calling Max and yelling angrily at my stuffed squid. It was a counseling tactic that ended up saving my life (and stopping me from responding to Oliver’s texts). 

(“Daisy, I need to tell you something…”)

I ended up going back to my therapist for about three months. It didn’t take long for me to edit my life, considering I was already pretty open to the change. I knew I was accepting poor behavior from people (it ended up being much more evident in my work life) and needed to be more assertive. My first session was…interesting. I sat down on the couch across from Marie, who I had not seen since I was 19, and started bawling. The first month went like that, crying about Oliver and how much I missed my mom (something I didn't even know was affecting me). And then the ball got rolling. 

And, now, when I had these dreams, when I woke up in a hot sweat and my cat jumped from the bed in a fright, I knew what I needed to do to not spiral. I pushed the covers off of me and thought about the dream. It was…fucked up. And I couldn't even remember if it had actually happened or if I made it up. Curse me for being on a Taylor Swift kick lately. Her lyrics were causing me to go loony. 

It was realistic. Too realistic. I had almost forgotten how Oliver felt against me, at my side. Nothing in the world felt quite like that. I’d tried to replicate, sure, and got pretty close during my first semester of graduate school whenever an international student (British) and I had a fling. But it was…weird. And, then I ended up opening up more to Marie about Oliver. 

And then I dropped out of school. 

The cool, early-March air was biting at me. I’d forgotten what it was like to live in an upstairs apartment during the winter. An old one, at that. So I pulled the covers back over my legs. Processing…

The dream did not mean anything bad. It was simply a memory, a twisted one, at that. Gaps filled with things I wish were said, probably. It was…bittersweet, a new, difficult emotion I’d been struggling to wrap my head around. 

I opened up my journal and wrote it down, wrote down how it had made me feel, and how I was going to cope with it. Cleaning. Spring cleaning, to be exact. The apartment was a pig-sty, to be frank. 

Unopened boxes, cobwebs in corners, paint splatters from the trimming I’d installed last week. Not to mention the entire shop downstairs…

I got up from the bed, practically skipping to my dresser but a foot away from the end of the comforter. The bedroom was tiny, tinier than I was used to. I slipped on warmer clothes and tied my hair back. 

I Bluetoothed my phone to a mini-speaker and carried it with me to the kitchen. I popped on the kettle and shoveled half a pop tart in my mouth. Evie rubbed herself between my legs, probably dropping massive amounts of fur on my pants. I squatted down to love her while the kettle started to whistle. I snapped up before the water could boil and poured it out over the bag of tea. 

“Let’s go, Ev,” I murmured over the rim of my mug as we shuffled into the living room. 

It was a fucking wreck. I groaned and threw my head back, causing some of my hair to slip out of the tie. 

I set the speaker and tea off to the side and got started. I was off work today, luckily, so I had time to really dig into things. But I did still have plans to go out later with a friend. And it was late. I’d gotten pretty good at having a routine, but the mornings after I worked I did not have any energy to get up at a good time. It was better than it had been. 

The first two weeks after I’d dropped school, I stayed up until 4 am every night and slept on my new (thrifted) couch until the sun set. It was…a process, moving here, getting the swing of things. 

But, this felt good. Unpacking- finding a place for everything. My mugs in the cupboard above the stove, spices along the wooden rack my mom had haphazardly installed a million years ago. The cat’s stand by the big picture window, where all of our random throw pillows sat. I hadn’t realized how many things were left by her until I got the keys from Sam and we drove my stuff down here. 

But there were things- the spice rack, the pillows. Her old, vintage vanity squeezed in the extra (tiny) bedroom that Sam and I used to share. I’d made a point to clean that one up the most when I first got here, considering every one of my friends wanted to visit as soon as they could. It was a peaceful spot, where I’d also unloaded my books onto our old bookshelves and bought a comfy reading chair. A pull out bed set beneath the chair, some fancy contraption Max had found at some Swedish furniture store overseas. He was always sending me pictures of decor pieces. He knew me too well. 

I got about three boxes unloaded before I splatted myself onto the (clearing) couch, phone and glass of cold water in hand. My phone began to buzz with a call from a familiar contact on the screen. 

“Daz!” absolute ruckus on the other end. “Daz I miss youuuuuuuu!”

The voice was absolutely slurred, nearly drowned out by the club music thumping in the background. A few other voices yelled atop his and it seemed like the phone rustled around. 

A new voice, my brother’s. “Daiiiiiissssyyyyy, waiiiiizzyyyyyy, mmaeeeeeeeeee!” 

Then, Ronnie, a stern, calm and collected familiarity, “Daisy? Are you there? Sorry for these idiots. It’s been a crazy ass week and they’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” I giggled as she scolded them somewhere away from the speaker. “Celebrating what?” 

“New tour! New song, album, fucking lore!” Ronnie yelled in response. “Sorry- hang on. Max- if you want to talk, come outside!”

The noise lessened, yet a string of voices seemed to follow her outside. I pulled my phone away and optioned to FaceTime them instead. Their faces loaded before me- Ronnie, Max, Sam, and even Cyrus. I grinned wide at the sight. 

Of course I’d kept contact with everyone. Ronnie and Sam helped me move in the off-season, Max visited maybe 3 or 4 times. Cyrus, Adam, and I correspond in the group chat we’d made last summer and now still used. We’d play Minecraft together on the weekends, recommend each other books, and they'd send me samples of new music they were working on. 

Only instrumentals, though. 

They were some of my favorite people. It had just been a month or so since I’d actually spoken to all of them on the phone. I was- usually- working when they were not performing, writing, or traveling. But, this was the first Friday I had gotten off in a while. And, considering the time difference, I was pretty sure they’d just finished some show or something. 

“Ugh, anyways-” Ronnie began and met my eye through the screen. “We’re celebrating, if you couldn’t tell! But, how are you? What are you up to? Max wanted to call cause he said you work too much and probably miss us. Which we all know is true. We miss you Daz!”

Everyone yelled in response, cheering my name and waving and grinning. I could cry, I missed them all so much. “I’m good! I miss you all so much more! Please come visit soon!”

Ronnie glanced back at Sam, so quickly I almost didn’t notice it. She wore a sneaky smirk. “Well, here’s part of the reason we’re celebrating, peaches!”

I jumped up onto the couch, dancing around as they shared the news. They’d be here in a week! Visiting me and my tiny little rundown apartment and shop for an entire month! They had some time off before the next tour cycle started and they could not think of a better place to be. 

“We wanted to see you and help you get settled! We know it’s been a few months, but we basically ditched you at the apartment before we had to get back to Europe. So, clean off the couch, Daz!” Sam pushed his way to the phone to speak to me. I could tell he’d been drinking. His eyes were red, bloodshot and his smile was crooked. Oh, how I loved and missed him. 

But, soon! He’d be here!

We’d be here, together, continuing mom’s legacy. 

It was a dream. Come true. 

One I hadn’t even known existed until I found myself in the streets of Europe. 

But, here she was. Jumping up and down on her thrifted couch with her cat. Her very own cat! Her hair short, her hair chunky streaks of blonde. I was…Daisy. I was Daisy Hatlett, if she had ever existed and taken up space in her own existence. 

I plopped onto the couch. Max took up the screen now. “I’m coming, too, Daz! Clear out the extra bedroom, lovely!”

“Oh, my God! You guys! I don’t think I’m going to be able to house all of you. Next, you’re going to tell me that Cyrus and Adam are coming to stay, too!” I pressed a hand over my eyes, but still could not stop grinning. 

I peeked through my fingers because it went silent on the other end. All I could hear was the thumping of London club music resounding throughout the patio they were hanging out on. 

“Jeez, tell me you hate me, Daisy,” Cyrus spoke up, attempting to break through what I could only describe as awkward silence. 

Max pressed his lips together. “She might. She might.”

“So,” Sam swept the phone from whoever had been holding it and walked away from the crew. “Listen, Daisy. I should have called you when we were all sober to deliver the news, but…um. To make it easier, you know? I don’t…we’re all- basically management heard us talking about visiting. They looked into it and I guess there’s a good recording studio like an hour from you. They want us all to have some privacy in a small town to recuperate and, I guess, chill. But they want the guys to still be able to tweak parts of the album before it comes out. So…yeah, they’re sending us your way. We’re all coming.”

My dream felt like a premonition now. 

It was crazy how, after months and months sober from something, from somebody, after resisting relapse and cravings and a text message that loads after the plane touches down, it’s crazy how you can still feel it. On the tip of your lips. The very drug you’d been getting over. And you could feel, for even just a second, just as helplessly young, dumb, and naive as you had nine months ago. 

“Oliver’s gonna be here? In my town?” I murmured somewhat, knowing I looked stricken. 

Sam nodded sadly. “But…listen, okay. You won’t even have to see him. He’ll be…he’ll be in the hotel or recording most of the time. And…even if you do, Daz, he’s, like, a completely different person. Fuck, he laughs now. Like, all the time. He’ll show us dumb ass memes and laugh-”

“I don’t need to know that,” I shook my head with a giggle that was anything but joyous. “Um…it’ll be fine. It’ll feel-” use those emotions, girl, “weird. But, it’ll be good. I’ll get to see y’all!”

I ran a hand through some of my blonde streaks. Sam watched and trailed the subject off, distracted by the alcohol and my hair. “Daz, you look so pretty. You look…you look so grown. And healthy. So healthy. I love you, sis.”

I pouted my lip at the complement. “Aw, Sam-Ham! I can’t wait to see you!”

And see him, I would. Him and Cyrus and Adam and Ronnie and Max and…and probably Oliver. But, I was not delicate now. I was a grown woman. I was…mature, like Sam had said. I’d finally started to live my life and I wasn’t susceptible to a bacterial growth like Oliver. 

That’s what he was, in mine and my therapist and my friends’ minds. A growth. A tumor. And the old me had died from him. From that, a new Daisy, a healing, evolving Daisy was reborn into whoever the hell she wanted to be. Like a butterfly, I’d emerged from a chrysalis. 

“Send me the details of your flight and I’ll come pick ya’ll up! We can give everybody a tour of our hometown!” I urged him. 

Sam gave me a thumbs up, but Max was talking over him again. “Is she good with it? Does she like the idea? Is she gonna kill us- Daisy!” 

Max gave me heart-eyes through the phone, grinning. “Daisy, I cannot wait to see this flower shop. I cannot wait to help you get it all set up and ready for the grand opening! Have you set a date yet?”

Oh, haha, totally! I have everything together! I wanted to lie through my teeth. But, I know I couldn’t. Instead, I shrugged, “Not really. It’ll happen when it happens. I’m still trying to get settled back into things. I’m unpacking the living room today since I’m off.”

“Blasting Tay-Tay, I’m sure,” Ronnie teasingly rolled her eyes. 

“Hell yeah, girl!”

“Blast our new song!” Max whined, “I love Tay-Tay, you know I do. But get us some streams, babygirl!”

I exited out of the FaceTime app and opened Spotify. I could see their faces in the corner of my screen as they continued yelling. “Yeah, come on! It’s so fucking good, Daz. You’ll love the end part, for sure,” Cy added in. 

“Mayyyybe,” I shrugged, though I did ponder the idea. 

Emergence. 

What a title. 

I wondered about what Sam had said- how Oliver had changed. 

And I wondered if he felt like me, different, aged. New. A butterfly in the place of where a caterpillar had been. A reborn soul in the place of a tumor. 

Maybe I couldn’t listen to it. It would remind me that he’s human. Which, of course, I knew. It was a fact that had helped me heal. But, I think hearing about his own struggle with his identity might send me over the edge. 

I was going out later…and that always meant alcohol, which fixed any reopened scars. Not healthy, I know, but journaling didn’t always feel fun to do. 

“What’s it about?” I ventured, opening back up the FaceTime. 

Cy and Max side-eyed each other. Sam and Ronnie had left a second ago, probably to get drinks. 

“Um,” Max shrugged, “you know who’d you have to ask that question. Sorry, Daz.”

“Well, you helped write it, right, Cy? C’mon, tell meeee,” I pouted again.

Cy shook his head, “I wrote the drums, that’s all. It was…it was all Oliver, hun.”

I rolled my eyes and opened Spotify again. The cover was pretty, all rosy pink flowers. 

It reminded me…God, it reminded me of my mom’s shop. 

I wonder…

Wondering was a dangerous thing. I shut down my brain. 

I talked to them some more, hearing about their most recent tour, The Teeth of God. Though, they had visited off and on when that tour happened, so I basically knew everything, But I loved when Cy and Max told stories. They were hilarious. 

We talked for another half an hour before Ronnie and Sam came back. They made a big deal about some song that was playing in the club and demanded Cy and Max come dance. After a round of phone-hugs, smushy kisses on the camera from Max, and promised-calls from my brother, the sound of a hung up FaceTime call resonated. 

I checked the time. It was somehow nearing 5pm already. My stomach was growling. 

So, though I lingered over the music app with the tip of my thumb, I exited out of the app altogether, I got up and went to make myself dinner.

-

Friday nights in my hometown were busy. 

I noticed after my first few shifts at the local pub. I made more money there from just a three day weekend work week than I had at the clinic. Sure, men were creepy and pigtails brought in more money, but having a surplus of ones was sick. 

All this to say, I was happy to have this evening off. 

I’d reconnected with a few people from high school and they’d been begging me to go out on a Friday. Tonight, Jay and I would be hitting a bar 15 minutes up the street that had a pool, mini golf, and some band headlining the small stage. 

He was knocking on my door around 9pm, just in time for my setting spray to dry and my shot of vodka to kick in. I used to drink to get drunk, and now I just did it to chill. It was fun. 

I opened the door with a chirpy, “Hey!”

Jay, a tall, blonde-headed car salesman, leaned down for a hug. Sure, he had been a frat boy at the local community college and had asshole friends in high school. But, everybody grows out of those embarrassing phases and become…well, he was sweet and paid for dinner when we went, opened the car door when he drove me places, aaaaaand he was a pretty good fuck. Hey, grown up Daisy did grown up things now, like sleep with the captain of her high school football team. 

I squeezed my arms around his neck, catching a whiff of the sweet cologne he was wearing. And- was that smoke? Cigarette smoke? My mind almost flashed back, but I moved on. “Mm, you smell good,” I giggled as I pulled back. 

Jay kissed the corner of my lips, sliding his hand to my fingers. I shut the door and he began trotting us down the steps to the side entrance of my building. “You, too. And you look good, too. I like this skirt.”

His other hand tugged at the bottom of the tight black piece. I giggled again, “Well, thanks. Thought I’d dress up for once.”

“Aw, you don’t have to. You look just as good in your sweatpants as you do this little number.”

We loaded into his car as we talked, soon rolling down the road. We were not together. And, no it was not because I had developed some weird attachment issues. I was really just looking for a low-commitment fling while I went through this major transition in my life. And Jay’s wife had just left him for some lawyer in the big city up North. 

We had the same needs and wants right now. 

We had a good time at the bar, sloshing back shots every once in a while, dancing on the tiny little dance floor beside the similarly mini-stage. I was no longer a light-weight now that I regularly drank, like normal people my age. So, it took a few extra Dirty Shirley’s and Long Islands to get me to the point that made this night out really fun. We went from playing pool to practically mosh-pitting to Mr. Brightside. Jay went so far as to volunteer to sing with the band and I became their honorary tambourine-girl. I demanded a photoshoot and drunkenly posted the pictures to Instagram with the caption, “FEEL THE BEAT!!!”

Eventually, the night started to wind down. We drove back to mine (old Daisy would have had an aneurysm if she knew I was letting someone drunk drive me) and had sex on my couch. The cat was still an adjustment for me, considering she liked to sit by the picture window and just stare at me. 

When it was over, Jay picked her up and held her to his bare chest, boxers low on his hips. “You’re a little creep, aren’t ya?”

I giggled as she nuzzled into his neck, purring through her sweet little mouth, “She really is. I don’t know how to get her to stop either.”

Jay sat on the arm rest and Eve jumped from his arms, back to her spot on the windowsill. He leaned down close to me and wrapped a hand around my cheek. “I have a pretty good idea.”

He was flirting, making a pass for another round. I blushed, nonetheless, and kissed his wrist. “What might that be?” I smiled coyly. 

Jay took my lips in his, a supple kiss, before whispering and nipping at my ear, “The bedroom has a door.”

I let him kiss me until I was in his arms, his hands strong under my thighs. He sobered me up through another restless round of (sure, vanilla) sex. Afterwards, he curled me into him, a deep sigh rattling from his chest. 

“What was that?” I laughed, rearing my head back to see him better. “Something to share?”

Jay shared my laugh, though there was a deep, distant look that settled in his eyes. “No, no…well…I don’t know. I was just thinking…”

“Oh, no,” I mocked, “is the world ending?”

“Oh, Zee,” he pretended to squeeze me to death. “No, I just…we’ve been going out for some time now.”

Oh. 

Oh!

Ohhhh….

“Yeah?” I sat up now, his arms falling off of me. 

Jay followed, slowly, cautiously. Was he feeling how I had felt when Oliver passed me off like this?

I pushed that observation away. It burned going down. 

“I just…you have to know that I’m really into you, Zee.”

The nickname felt weird. And I felt…weird. This all felt weird. 

“Jay, I…” i raised my hand to stop him, but he kept going. 

“Honestly, I think I’m falling for you. I have to tell you before we end up hurting each other. Because I know you must feel it, too-”

“I’m gonna be sick!”

I rushed from the bed and to the bathroom, a few steps down the hall. Jay called after me, unaffected by the rush, “Oh- okay! Let me know if you need anything!”

I shut the bathroom door behind me. Slid down it’s wooden spine. Pulled my legs to my chest. I was breathing heavily. I didn’t even need to throw up, I just- I needed away. It was suffocating in there. 

I thought that this was just a casual thing, but I guess not. 

And now I just felt- like shit, to be honest. 

I tip-toed back into the room just to see if he was asleep or not. Luckily, he was passed out, jaw loose, snores coming from the back of his throat. He worked long hours.  I praised the universe for the saving grace and continued to pray that he would forget about his conversation by the morning. While he was snoring, I put on some pj’s and went out to the living room. I sat beside Evie on the bench by the big picture window, watching as the moon turned red. A blood moon. I didn’t even know that was today. 

I got up to grab my journal and sat back down. Something in me stirred. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the phone call earlier. Maybe it was this confession from Jay. 

Maybe it was that dumb fucking dream. But I was missing London. I was missing the dirty streets of Paris and the spitfire rain in Ireland. I missed the gray skies and seeing my brother everyday. 

I missed Oliver. 

I let myself feel it. I had fought it for so long, but now I just tried to accept it. It was okay to miss people. I loved him, after all. But, this feeling usually passed after a moment. 

I opened my journal and wrote about it. I wrote about how it slickened my throat and made my chest feel tight, the regret, the missing, the moving on. 

It was worse than normal. It wouldn’t go away. It screamed in my heart and burned my head. 

I don’t know why. I was over it (wasn’t I?) but my head started to race. He was…alive. Despite the fact that I didn't even know who he was anymore. He was doing things and moving on with his life. Me, too. I guess. 

Oliver was a living and breathing person. His life didn’t end when our love did. That was hard to wrap my mind around. Though I was doing the same thing. 

He was still writing songs, touring shows, painting himself in black every night. Writing songs.

And here I was- buying my mom’s old flower shop with Sam, moving back to our hometown, deciding I didn’t want to go to grad school. 

Emergence. Out from underneath…

He was still…growing. I was growing. We were growing- away from each other. 

Something about tonight, the blood moon or the information that he had released a song…something unravelled in me.

I could not stop thinking about him. 

Was he sleeping with somebody, too? Was he dating some girl? Was she the reason for this new song? Was she clutching his bicep in the busy streets of London and laughing in the park in Paris while he told some stupid joke?

Was he falling in love with her? Was he confessing like Jay had? Or was he detached like me, unable to really move on from what we had last summer? 

Unable to love somebody else the same way he loved me. 

And then I found myself going through our text messages. God, I was really spiraling. 

I’d deleted them when I got back home from London, but then my phone took a shit and I got a new one. Here, the iCloud hadn’t been backed up in so long that it reverted back to how it was when I’d boarded the plane. Oliver text messages and all. 

Even the notification I’d gotten when I landed, the one I deleted, silenced, and never even opened. Airplane mode only lasted until you turned it off. Then, whatever failed to deliver just…popped up, wooshed through the atmosphere and over the seas. 

It still was unread, and I ignored it even as I scrolled all the way up to the start and took myself through the journey of last summer. 

Oh, Daisy…

The words he used, the things he told me. Fuck- the picures he sent me. I found myself wet again even though I’d just been relieved twice. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The names he called me. 

Love, darling…

Sneak to my room later- meet me after the show- you tasted good. 

Fragments of messages raced past my vision. Blurred. Anxious. It was all coming back, though I am not sure now that it had ever really left.

How could I have ever forgotten about him? Sure, my body lost the memory of him. But, even then, I think if I squeezed my eyes shut enough, I might be able to replicate the feeling, pretend Jay’s blonde hair was dark brown, that his blue eyes were that sweet greenish-tan. Pretend that his hands, strong, sure, were the toned ones of a certain Brit, fingers strong from piano and guitar playing. That his voice was laced with an accent, his tooth crooked but beautifully supple atop his pink, plump lips.

And, then…there was his spirit. The things he liked- the coffee and Ray Bradbury books. The song about someone being a fisherman and that poem about that fisherman painting looking over the top of a love affair. The signals he always sent me through these coded messages. 

I’d forgotten that one. 

But, there it was- a link to a PDF, an offer to let me borrow that book that he loved. 

Reading it now- 

“You lie bent up in embryo sleep

below the painting of the blue fisherman

                             without a pillow…

I watch you and wonder at you.

I know your face by touch when it's dark

I know the profile of your sleeping face

the sound of you sleeping…

I know the hills

         and gullys of your body

                   the curves

                             the turns.

But there are times

when you can smile in such a way

that I'd forget a ten year war

and lie down in your shadows' shadow

and live on sounds your stomach makes…

But there is little salvage to be had

in bent and broken nails

and things that might have been

if I'd had wiser eyes

or been a fisherman

                         in blue.”

Had I been that naive?

He never used the words directly, but it was clear now, how vivid that love was that he had for me. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

There was something else. Something I could not quite place. What- what the fuck was it? Nudging at my brain like Evie nudged at my thighs. 

I smelled it. I smelled it somewhere. I traced the smell, sniffing through the air like a deranged lady. I sniffed the edge of the couch. It was there but it was- faint. Like it was a lifetime ago. Then, Jay’s t-shirt on the arm rest. Warmer. His coat- dangling off the coat rack. I patted the pockets and there it was- a pack of cigarettes. I was an addict moving through the world, tracking down the scent of a drug or a drink like a pack dog.

I held them in my hands, squishing the pack. Then, gently, I brought it to my nose and sniffled the aroma. Cigarette smoke. 

Oliver. 

The roof. The pool. The city. The look of his cheeks cinching in as he breathed in the cigarette smoke. The smell as he held my hair back and I puked on the streets of London. The smell of his fingertips on my cheek. The taste of him after I chased him down in the hotel elevator. Me quipping to him that it would fucking kill him- him laughing. 

His laugh, fuck his laugh. Fuck, holy shit. I was weeping a little bit now. 

I wonder if he could feel it, 12 million miles away from me. I pinched myself like a voodoo doll and willed the feeling. 

It smelled like a part of me that I had pushed down for months. Healed, sure, but pushed away.

The part of me that had loved him. 

I took a cigarette from the pack and felt around his pockets for a lighter. Then, ashamedly, looking around the apartment like someone was going to catch me in the act, I slipped on some shoes and a hoodie. 

I took the stairs down to the flower shop and weaved my way through boxes. I took a seat on the stool behind the counter, crossed my leg over the other. It was freezing- nights in May were never warm. But I ignored goosebumps, embraced them, almost, and kept moving. 

I lit the cigarette without ever touching it to my lips. I watched as the edge caught the flame then set the cigarette on the counter. I typed through my phone, searching for something on Spotify. I hit play. 

Emergence. 

I lay my head on my hands, propped upon the counter, eyes practically crossed as I watched the cigarette burn. I closed my eyes, breathed in his smell, and listened…

Come on, come on out from underneath who you were…

I looped the song. Once, twice. A fifth time. And, then…

I opened the text. 

I didn’t know who I was right now. This wasn’t the old Daisy, but it wasn’t the new Daisy, either. This was someone entirely new. Someone…

Someone who needed to know the answers. Someone who still could not believe it. 

Someone. Just someone. 

“Daisy, I need to tell you a few things. If you do not want to hear me out, that is okay. You do not owe me the time nor the space to speak my truth. But, I don’t think I would able to live if I did not do so.’’

Crying. Sobbing. I took a moment to breathe in- cigarette smoke- and centered myself. 

“Fiona is somebody who I used to lo-”

I stopped there. I deleted the message. 

I relapsed, if only for the night. I let myself revel in the drug, revel in the burning memory of him, if only to just get it all out again, if only to just fulfill the prophecy and will of that fucking dream.

Then- I went back upstairs and lay myself underneath Jay’s arm. 

I listened to his soft snoring as I fell asleep, sniffing and smelling like cigarette smoke. 

[valyrianvibranium]

DAEMON TARGARYEN.

Mini-Series.

You‘re The Only Thing That I Pray For -> completed

“You’re King Viserys oldest daughter, but it was Queen Alicent that has taken you under her wing, strengthening your very being with her own faith. All your prayers resolve around one thing, though a betrothal has already been made. But what if you want the opposite of your pious nature? You’ve been so faithful to the Seven, so it is only right they finally offer you something in return.“

One-Shots.

A Fine Line (between Love and Hate)

""I would rather feed my sons to the Dragons, than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a King." Your husband’s words still lingered in the back of your head and drove you mad with fury."

Comfort

"You understand the Rogue Prince like no other, and so it’s your task to put his mind at ease again when he stumbles into the brothel."

Of Dragons and Wolves (x Cregan)

“You and your husband came to Dragonstone on behalf of your cousin Jacaerys, needing your help in the upcoming war of succession. However, you seem to be in need of something entirely different.”

Guileless

“The streets of Flea Bottom most definitely were not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out at night, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.”

Suspicious Silence

"Daemon was working from home today to take care of your daughter while you were out for brunch with Floris, his nephew’s wife that’s also winding down the halfway mark of pregnancy just like you. And although it’s around your toddler’s daytime nap time, it’s too quiet when you open the front door to your penthouse. Suspiciously quiet."

A Dragon to Share

"For a fortnight, you’ve been spending your nights with Aemond and Aegon. But what happens, if there’s yet another uncalled visitor joining you? Improper revelations lead to the fulfilling of a long-buried desire of yours."

Encouragement

“It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.“

Stress Relief

“Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.“

Heavy Is the Head That Wears the Crown

"You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. The heavy doors open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence. “Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the crown on your head toppling to the ground. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Nocturnal Worship

“‘Expect me at the Hour of the Owl, sweet girl,’ he had said to you as your lesson ended. ‘And I shall teach you what is expected of you on your wedding night.’ And the sheepish nod and the blush on your cheeks let him know you truly endorsed it.“

Deep Devotion

Lactation kink smut lol

Behind Closed Doors

"You didn’t expect your host dad to be back so early, yet things take an interesting turn when he catches you in a compromising situation. What’s better than losing your virginity to a man that knows just what he’s doing?"

MASTERLIST NAVIGATION.

[ohimsummer]

you wake up in an AIRPORT…

— mentions of death, an interpretation of limbo/the afterlife??, poly! stsg x reader, slight angst (comfort ending), this is a bunchhhh of word vomit so not proofread (prob a lil nonsensical too) idrc :3

there are bright lights when your eyes flutter open, and you’re originally left with the vague thought of ‘when did I go to sleep?’.

thinking on it harder, you recall a calm sensation of fading away, even though everything around you was anything but; raging blue oceans which lulled you to sleep, the frantic tone of a usually collected voice, and the suffocating feeling of being squeezed. someone begging you not to close your eyes but you were just so tired. surely a little nap couldn’t hurt? so you go to sleep, and wake up in an airport.

you chalk it up to just being a dream, even though everything is so vivid and real. the entire building is empty, void of any life besides decorative plants and yourself. speakers murmur out song lyrics, ones that don’t even reach the walls of the room but you can’t seem to make them out, anyway. it’s strange, and a little creepy; it feels like a liminal space.

time passes, though you only know that due to the hands of the clock. daytime never seems to end. you grow to miss the sunsets, sunrises, the company of other people. you miss your boyfriends, suguru and satoru, and your friends, shoko and utahime and nanami. you wonder how they’re doing and if they’re okay. where are they? how long are you going to be stuck in this airport?

haibara is the first person you meet in a while. he’s the same as when you last saw him: wide, gleaming eyes that hold such eagerness and enthusiasm, accompanied by a big, welcoming smile. he walks through the door and those big, brown eyes light up at the sight of you.

“l/n!”, he greets you with open arms, engulfing you in a hug. “i can’t believe it’s you!”

his company is welcome, you’re glad to finally have someone here with you. haibara livens things up for a while, trails behind like a loyal dog to accompany you around the building. you show him around this place, every nook and cranny you’ve long memorized since coming to inhabit here. the gift shop where you can now name every single item, the various cafes and restaurants with food that never seems to spoil, though hunger leaves you be, anyway. 

more time passes. nothing changes, but haibara never seems to grow bored, always excited to talk about something or other. he’s talking about shoko and gojo and geto and he mentions how they haven’t really been the same since a mission from a couple years prior, due to someone dying. you realize what you’re doing here now. and it sucks, it makes your stomach hurt, but now he’s chattering about the dessert he ate with nanami the day before he arrived here, and you can’t bring yourself to ask about further details relating to yourself.

one day, your heart threatens to leap out of your chest. haibara has wandered off to look for something to do, so he misses the next guest who enters. but you don’t. and you watch suguru walk through.

familiar, violet eyes widen at the sight of you, and neither of you speak as he approaches. it’s slow, cautious, almost like he’s afraid you’ll run away if he reaches you too quickly. he looks older than when you last saw him. hair a little longer, body a little more matured. eyes a little more tired.

“mind telling me what you’re doing here so early, sir?” you tilt your head at him, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

he returns your grin. a hand rubs through his longer, black mane, other one tucked into his pocket, and he looks away before answering, “i maybe fucked up. just a little.”

you pat the spot beside you. “okay, suguru, come tell me about it.”

and he does tell you about it. explains his reasons, his motives, your death playing a huge part in the decision. his endgame, his loss, his last conversation with satoru. part of you is regretful and heartbroken that gojo’s alone out there now. another—selfish—part of you is elated that at least one of them is here with you again.

“there’s a plane outside.” suguru points it out through the huge, towering windows. he’s silent afterwards.

“yeah.” you sigh. “i don’t want to get on, yet.”

he hums, tightens his laced fingers through yours. there’s a silent agreement between you two, one to keep waiting for as long as it takes.

nanami joins you three next. he doesn’t look confused like you did when you first arrived, just resigned. there’s a change in his expression at the sight of you, and suguru, and haibara. like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. he gives you two a short greeting before haibara is swooping him away to show him around the airport, departing with a smile and a wave as the boy begins talking his ear off. nanami looks at peace.

“he’s taking forever.” you giggle, leaning a head on suguru’s shoulder.

“well, you don’t want him in here too quickly, do you?” geto tilts his own head to rest atop yours, black strands tickling your nose. he’s good at masking his own anticipation.

the clock ticks again, and you and suguru wait patiently in each other’s company. sometimes you two grow bored and opt to nibble on the various treats or food in the surrounding stores. or try on the different clothing adorning the racks inside the gift shops. never too far, always within view of that main area and the entrance. watching, waiting for your third piece.

it feels like ages before anyone else arrives. geto’s about to doze off in your lap before you’re patting him awake, nudging his shoulder and he can just feel this sense of urgency in your actions.

“well, look who finally decided to show up!”

there is a familiar laughter that follows your statement. suguru’s eyes find the source immediately, a snowy-haired young man casually waltzing towards you both with hands tucked into his pockets.

“sorry to keep my darlings waiting for so long.” gojo leans down to give you a peck on the lips, and then geto another on the forehead. “must’ve been pretty boring without your favorite person here.”

geto sighs, sits up. “maybe a little.”

satoru’s grin widens. “aww, see, i knew you guys missed m—!”

he’s cut off by both of you grabbing at his arms, tugging him forward to sit between you two. his hands move to wrap around either of your waists, pulling you both in as you pepper kisses on his cheek and geto nuzzles into his collar.

“we did miss you, satoru.” you whisper against his skin. you can’t tell if the wetness is from his tears or yours. “took you long enough to get here.”

he presses a kiss to your nose. “are you saying you wanted me to die sooner?”

“whatever it takes.” suguru teases him.

gojo pouts at him. “oh you guys suck.” but the tender look in his eyes disagree.

the airport has a new feel to it now. like you’ve overstayed your welcome at someone’s home.

“let’s get on the plane.”, satoru gazes at the huge aircraft out on the runway. “what are we still doing here?”

“you don’t wanna look around before we go?” your steps are staggered beneath gojo’s heavy weight on your body. “and god, you’re just as clingy as I remember.“

“i think i have a right to be.” he doesn’t say more, but you understand where he’s coming from. if he or suguru had died in your arms, you’d be melting into them too when you reunited.

“there’s lots of sweets in the shops.,” suguru mentions. “wanna at least grab some before we go?”

that grabs gojo’s attention, and he sprints into the nearest gift shop to stuff his pockets full. they’re comically large at the end of his rampage, lumpy and bulging and he’s adamant on filling both you and suguru’s pockets as well.

“oh, come on, you have so much space in there!” gojo chases geto, leaving a trail of candy behind as the other tries to protect his empty pockets. “get back here!”

“get the hell away from me, satoru!”, suguru laughs behind him, and their shenanigans make you giggle. it feels like centuries since you’ve last had this, the privilege of seeing their silly antics and being in their company, hogging their embrace like you’ll have to leave them again. but this is it. now it’ll never end.

tagz: @staryukis @anthoosies @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @flvffybunny @exinqiu @luvr-exe @reallifepearl @purplegemadventures @roseqzpd @sataraxia @trafalgarrattata @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @leilalilox @getouolgy @elleflying07 @ha-zel-art @ratedrrrr @mynahx3 @ivy-vivii @squishies0102 @peachyaone @kayleegomez @zzzlevislothzzz @starsharkz @manic-bongwater @froggkat @idkluvv

[ephie-om]

I know this one is short but every time I tried to make it longer it ended up awkward x.x sorry I tried

CW: None

Day 6: Beelzebub

When you first came to the Devildom, Beel was conflicted. He had an innate urge to protect you, since you had no claws, wings, or tail. But he knew from experience how terrifying he could be, even accidentally, so he kept his distance. He did his best to keep his table manners in mind so that you wouldn't get the wrong idea, especially when meat was on the menu.

If there's one thing he knows, though, it's that you are irresistible. Everything about you draws him in and knocks down all the walls of self-control he puts up. He often finds himself much closer to you than he would like, but you don't seem to mind. He can't quite figure out why that is, but having you close satiates some part of him. He craves it when you're not around, so he starts to come up with little excuses to end up next to you.

It starts under the guise of being helpful when he sees you about to climb on the kitchen counter. He swoops in to help you get a cup from a high cabinet, brushing his stomach against your back in the process. He smiles at you; after all, it wasn’t your fault the house was demon-sized. You smile back gratefully as he hands you the mug you were searching for. You don't tense up from the contact, and he takes that as a sign.

Occasionally he finds you in the common room, reading, watching a movie, taking a nap. You might be cold, he thinks, and he couldn't have the exchange student uncomfortable in his house. So he takes it upon himself to always find the softest blanket he can for you and drape it over you. Sometimes, in his more daring moments, he touches his fingers to your arms as he tucks you in.

He starts insisting on helping you with your coat, and he’s worried you might be onto him. You still let him, but you get a shine in your eyes and he’s not sure exactly what it means. Whatever it is, it’s worth it to share that second of bliss when his large hands cover your shoulders. These little moments add up in his heart and leave him satisfied.

Mostly satisfied.

Every time you smile up at him as he barely touches you, that urge to protect you grows tenfold. He wants to make sure nothing ever dims that smile, and he doesn't care one bit what he has to do to keep you safe.

He lies in bed restlessly as a fierce storm rattles the window panes. Belphie went to sleep long ago, leaving him alone to try and get some rest. A quiet knock on the door interrupts his tossing and turning, and he finds you standing there looking uneasy. He invites you in wordlessly. You only just step into the room when a clap of thunder booms through the sky, and Beel suddenly finds himself as the only thing between you and the window. “Sorry,” you whisper. “It's a lot worse than the storms I'm used to in the human world. These ones are bad in the daytime too, but when it's late at night it really scares me.” Your hands clench the back of his shirt like it's your lifeline.

“It's okay,” he whispers back. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you.” He turns and hugs you gently. The tension drains from your muscles and you rest your head against his broad chest.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course.” He's grateful for the darkness to mask his reddening cheeks as he places a hand on your back to guide you to bed. You make yourself comfortable, tucking yourself underneath the layers of blankets. You reach out towards him with both arms. He settles himself beside you, making sure he's not crushing you accidentally. Blissfully unaware, you curl up to his chest with your head beneath his chin.

How can such a small creature be so warm? It's like a tiny heater crawled into his bed. He stifles a laugh and wraps you up in his arms.

Thunder strikes again, but you only jump a little bit. He mutters something in your ear about always keeping you safe, and your thumb strokes his collarbone. He falls asleep only a few minutes after you, satisfied with protecting you from the storm.

[m0chaminx]

Kung Lao | Shirt Thief

*•.¸♡Request: no, but inspired by @heavenlyvision fic Matters (go read all her work if you haven't already it's so good)

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Smut MDNI, Raiden being a ladies man, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), a little bit a plot, no use of y/n, Kung Lao is taller than reader, the knee thing, praise, big dick Kung Lao, begging if you squint, marking, pet names (angel, baby), oral Fem!receiving, hair pulling, Kung Lao being desperate for praise, kinda rough smut, Raiden walking in (At the end), fluffy ending, this is my first smut in a while (go easy on me), I wrote this while high

*•.¸♡Paring: Kung Lao x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: You had never looked so good, why did you have to wear his clothes? Why did you have to be so annoying?

or

Your mission to annoy Kung Lao takes a different turn after you steal his clothes and his bed

*•.¸♡Words: 3.6k

You hadn’t exactly planned to spend your night like this. You sat on the couch in the living room, flipping mindlessly through the pages of a book. After a lovely dinner at Madame Bo’s, but honestly, they were all lovely, just before you could order dessert for the two boys a girl had swept Raiden off his feet, suggesting she’d pay for his dessert if she could spend the rest of the night with him, and, as Kung Lao put it left you both for dead. The walk back to your small home was gruelling, Kung Lao complaining the whole time about he was the one that was meant to be swept off his feet. 

You closed the book and tossed it on the small table, huffing as you threw your head back to stare at the ceiling. Once you got home Kung Lao had locked himself in his room, still sulking. You turned your head to stare at his door, spend the night bored on the couch or annoy Kung Lao for your own entertainment. The answer was clear, and you kicked yourself off the couch, walking to his door.

You knocked twice before opening it. Kung Lao sat on the bed, weaving the loose bit of straw back into his hat. “Are you done being a baby?” Your voice was teasing as you leant against the wall.

His hands stopped and he scoffed. “I’m not being a baby,” Kung Lao huffed, staring up at you.

“Sure you aren't,” You rolled your eyes and closed the door behind you as you walked to his set of draws.

“And what are you doing?”

You trifled through the draws for a few moments before pulling one of Kung Lao’s long grey shirts. You turned back to him and shrugged. “My bed’s crap and you know it.”

“So? Go sleep in Raiden’s.”

You laughed silently and turned away, pulling off the shirt you had worn to work earlier that day. Kung Lao’s eyes widened as you so shamelessly stripped in front of him, the bare skin of your back so clearly on display. You shook your head and laughed at Kung Lao’s suggestion, “So Raiden can come back with his lady friend and I give him a heart attack? No thank you.”

You pulled Kung Lao’s shirt over your head and turned back to face him, who still stared so shamelessly. “Move over.”

“You just stole my shirt!” Kung Lao complained, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You placed a hand on your hip and raised an eyebrow.

Kung Lao sighed. He hung his hat on the bed frame and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, making room for you. You pulled the blanket back and slipped in beside him. You rested your head against his shoulder, your hands moving with the end of the blanket. You nudged Kung Lao’s side, waiting for him to wrap his arm around you, as he had done before when you would disturb his daytime naps.

You nudged him again, this time digging your elbow into his side. “Hey! What was that for?”

“What’s up with you?” Kung Lao hummed in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re never this upset, it’s not even upset, you're just acting weird.”

Kung Lao scoffed, trying to hide it with a chuckle. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yes you are.” You prodded his side again, getting an annoyed sound out of Kung Lao. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” Another poke.

“Hey-” Another poke.

“I mean it.” Another poke.

“Seriously, cut it out.”

You moved to poke him again, but he seized your wrists, his hands fitting around them perfectly as he pushed you back against the bed. He climbed on top of you, his thighs pinning your legs against the bed. “I said cut it out,” His voice dropped slightly and your heart hammered against your chest.

You tried to pull your hands from his grip, but his hands only tightened. “Get off me,” You huffed, your head dropping back against the pillows.

“Nope, this suits me quite nicely.” Kung Lao shook his head, a teasing smile taking over his face. You tried to wiggle out of his hold, your hips trying to shuffle back and your legs rubbed against him. One of Kung Lao’s hands shot down to grip your side, pushing you back against the bed and holding you still. “Don’t move like that.” His voice was breathy as his head dropped. You couldn't see his eyes, but by the way his eyebrows pinched you could tell they were screwed shut.

“What’s up with you?”

“Me?” Kung Lao laughed softly. “You just stripped in front of me, climbed into my bed and then grinded against me.” Your eyes winded and a soft breath passed your lips. “Not to mention you're wearing my shirt and it looks too goddamn good on you.”

Your cheeks burned in realisation. “Oh.”

You tried to slide back but his grip on your side tightened and you were thankful he wasn't looking anymore otherwise he would have seen your teeth sink into your lip to keep quiet. His hand loosened and he took a soft breath. “Just don’t move.”

“Why?”

Kung Lao dipped his head closer to yours, eyes dancing across your face but kept moving back to your lips. “Cause if you move I’m gonna kiss you and I’m not gonna stop.”

“Kiss me then.”

Kung Lao shook his head, his eyes moving from your face and this time you stared at him. The dip of his nose, his soft lips and his tongue that shot out to swipe across his pink lips. His eyes moved back to yours and your gaze fixed on his dark coffee eyes. “I’m not messing around,” He said, his voice dropping again.

You shook your head and your eyes drifted back to his lips. “Neither am I.” His grip loosened enough and you slipped one of your hands from his and traced the line of his cheekbone. You pulled him closer, and you raised your head off the bed, your nose crushing ever so slightly against his. “Kiss me Kung Lao.”

His eyes scanned over your face once more before dipped his head down to yours, connecting your lips and kissing you feverishly. His hand glided up your side, raising goosebumps across your skin as his fingers found your jaw, tipping your head up, his lips pressing harder against yours. Your teeth nipped his bottom lip, pulling a soft gasp from him. You slipped your tongue through his lips and he tried to pull you impossibly closer.

He shifted his hips, his thigh moving between yours to press his knee against you. A whine tore itself from your throat and your head fell back against the bed. You moved your hips against his knee and Kung Lao made a sound of approval as his lips trailed down your jaw and across your throat. His name fell from your lips in a soft moan and his knee worked harder against you.

“You sound so fucking pretty,” his words vibrated against your throat.

You hand tugged at the collar of his shirt and he lifted his head. “Take your clothes off, please.” Kung Lao complied, sitting back on his knees and pulling his shirt off. You pushed yourself up, your nails running across his abs as your lips attached to his throat, biting and sucking dark marks into his soft skin.

He pulled back for a moment to slip out of his pants and while you pulled your shirt over your head. He stood over you, his hands moving to hold your face as he kissed you softly. “You wanna stop, just tell me okay?”

“Don’t want you to stop,” You mumbled against his lips.

“Fucking hell angel.” He knelt by the bed, his large hand wrapping around your thighs and pulled you closer. He pressed small kisses to your thighs, nipping at your skin and leaving marks behind.

His hands trailed up your inner thighs, slipping under your shots and brushing against the soft fabric of your panties. “You don’t have to,” Your words trembled as his hands continued to tease too close to where you needed him.

“I want to, have to.” He pulled back to pull your shorts and underwear off at once. “I’m the best you’re gonna have, gotta prove it.” His hand trailed up your legs again, one hand moving to swipe through your folds. Your wetness clung to his fingers and he hummed, a cocky smile spreading across his cheeks. “Didn’t know I got you so worked up.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Kung Lao.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to your navel, his lips dragging against your skin as his kisses grew lower. His name fell from your lips and his grip tightened, pulling you suddenly against his mouth. Your head fell back against the bed with a loud moan as his tongue began to lap at your pussy. He pulled your legs onto his shoulders, your hips angling so every time he moved his head his nose pressed against your clit.

Your hips moved to grind against his face but he held you tightly, stopping your squirming. Kung Lao chuckled against your clit, the vibrations running through you. Your hands shot down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair to pull him closer against you. He finally released your hips to squeeze your thighs that had locked against his face. 

His strong tongue pressed against you, slipping over your entrance. The movements made you squirm and tremble as his name lipped from your lips, melding into your pleas and moans. You rolled your hips against his mouth, searching for more as your clit rolled against his tongue. 

Kung Lao’s hands dragged up your side, raising goosebumps at the slow touch. The soft whine that left your lips made his stomach tighten and made his cock twitch. He pressed his face further into your wet cunt, taking everything you gave him.

You could feel your end nearing, writhing against Kung Lao’s tongue as pressed harder against you. Then one his hands slid away and his fingers were at your entrance, gathering your slick on his fingers before gently prodding at your hole. A needy whine pours from your lips and Kung Lao chuckles, the vibrations running through you. His fingers slid inside you, your walls clenching around his as his fingers pressed against parts of yourself you could never reach. 

“Kung Lao,” Your voice was shallow and shaky as you called for him, trying to hold onto whatever control you had over yourselves. “Please, need more.”

“Not yet.” His reply was quick and muffled, still focused on the way your pussy pulsed around his fingers. “Need you to cum, need you to make a mess.”

His fingers curled inside you and your grip on his hair tightened, your breathing quicking as you tiptoed around the edge. His fingers sped up, becking you closer to the edge but it was the light graze of his teeth against your clit that had you cumming, your cunt clenching on his fingers like a vice. 

His hand still, gently grinding his fingers against your clit as he brought his head up, his own breath doubled as he panted softly. Your hands slid from his hair, falling to your sides as you tried to catch your breath, the shocks from your orgasm still burning with hot pleasure. Carefully Kung Lao removed his hand and stood, leaning over you, one hand pressed into the mattress. 

“You still with me?” Kung Lao teased, his forehead pressing against yours. You hummed lazily and grabbed his jaw, pulling him into a slow kiss. You only broke away when your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand still coated in your juices towards your mouth. His eyes singled on your mouth as your lips wrapped around his fingers sucking him clean. He cursed, his dick jumping at the sight.

You gently pushed him back and stood on uneasy legs. He looked down at you, towering over you as your fingers traced his skin. You spun the both of you around and pushed him onto the bed. He landed on his back and quickly pushed himself onto his elbows. “What’re you doing baby?” You crawled back onto the bed, your leg swinging over his, your bare pussy landing on his still covered cock. His head dropped back slightly, the thin material doing little to hide how wet you were. “Fuck… you’re so warm.”

Your hips ground hard against his, his cock twitching and his elbows gave out. His head fell back groaning at the feeling but it turned into a soft whine as you slid back, pulling his underwear down. You tossed them aside and crawled back up his body, pulling him into a quick kiss before trailing kissed down his throat.

You reached for his heavy cock, pumping slowly. His breath hitched as your hand worked his long, thick cock, your hand so small against him. You sat straight, lining his cock at your entrance, your walls sucking in the tip so quickly it made Kung Lao let a breath moan. A soft whine of your name passed his lip as his hands came to your hips to pull you down but you slapped his hand softly. “Ah, what was that for?” He tried to sound menacing but his voice was so shaky.

You fared no better. The tip of his dick stretched you so well, pleasure and pain mixing in a seering burn that you couldn't help but love. Your hips lowered ever so slightly, your head rolling back as you gripped his wrist for support. “You’re so big, need to go slow,” Your voice was hushed, trying to hide the whines on the tip of your tongue.

Kung Lao chuckled softly, “You flatter me angel.” One of his hands left your hip to race light circles on your clit, trying to relax you to let him slip deeper. You leaned forward, taking a few more inches as you kissed him again. It barely counted as a kiss, messy and disorganised as you tried to distract yourself from the burn in your thighs. “You’re so fucking tight,” Kung Lao whispered, his lips moving to nip at your jaw. “Your tight, wet pussy stretching around me. Feels so good. I’m not even fully in you yet.”

Your eyes fluttered as his cock slipped deeper, your pelvis finally meeting his. He held your hips tight against his, pushing you back and forth slightly to grind you against his cock. The feeling of his cock pressing against your gummy walls had your eyes rolling back, needy whines escaping you as each roll of your hips. His cock knocked something so deep inside you, a long moan filling the room, “Fuck… can feel you- so good.” He didn’t know if it was the whines in your voice or the praise that spurred him on but his hips bucked up, trying to chase you. Another moaned sentence of how good you felt, how good he was fucking you fell from your lips, almost incoherent but the way your head dropped against his neck and hips stutted- Fuck!

Kung Lao grabbed your hips, rolling you underneath him. He pulled your highs up onto his hips, the angle of his cock shifting to press against your most sensitive spot. You clenched around him as he started to rock his hips deep inside you. “Fuck, so good.” His hand ran up your arm and to your hand to lace his fingers through yours, feeling you grip his hands so slightly. 

His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts sped up, his pelvis hitting your clit as his cock reached so deep inside you. Your free hand held onto his back, your nails nipping his skin as his cock snapped harder against you, drilling into you like he was made for it. His cock dragged along your walls, cum creaming at the base of his dick as he fucked into you, lost in the promise of his own orgasm.

Your walls pulsed around him feeling so full as his cock rammed harder against you. Your nails ran down his back, leaving marks in his skin as you tried to ground yourself but your second orgasm was quickly approaching. “Lao-” Your voice cut short as Kung Lao pulled your hip higher onto his, your knee bending slightly.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep sayin’ my name like that baby,” Kung Lao whined against your neck. You turned your head to attach your lips to his, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the pleasure, your pussy fluttering around him. He chuckled softly against your lips, his grip on your hand tightening, “You gon’ cum for me angel? Can feel you squeezing me tight.”

“Please,” You squeaked, your voice cracking, “Please.” His hand slipped from your leg to rub harsh and fast circles into your clit, needing to pull another orgasm from you before he would let himself go. You tried to warn him that your high was here but you couldn't form a sentence, babbling nonsense as he drew you closer to the edge.

Kung Lao pressed a final, heavy, hot kiss to your lips, “Cum for me, make a mess baby.” The pressure inside you snapped, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your nails dug into his skin and your thighs squeezed his hips, trying to hold him close against you but his thrusts continued, fucking you through the plesure. 

He cursed, his grip hard enough that it would leave bruises. The squeeze of your tight walls against his sensitive cock made his head spin and his abs tighten, his own high clawing up his spine. He continued his thrusts but they grew sloppy, his hips instinctively bucking inside you. 

He tried to pull away but legs pulled him back in. You could barely form a sentence, your voice drowned in whines and moans, your mind lost to the blinding pleasure pulsing through you, “Pl- please! Need to feel you, need all- all of you!”

His head dropped to your shoulder, moaning softly as the tight feeling in his stomach let go, a pleasure that made his eyes screw shut taking over his body. He stilled against you, grinding his hips into yours to draw out both your orgasms. 

Kung Lao stopped his movements but was reluctant to move away from you, wanting to stay as close as possible. He pressed a few sweet kisses to your shoulder before he pushed his head from your shoulder, looking down at you. “You still mad I stole your shirt?” You teased, a soft chuckled playing at your lips. 

Kung Lao shook his head, “Keep stealing my shirts and you’ll end up like this every night.”

“That’s not as threatening as you think it is.” Kung Lao laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he pulled out, the both of you hissing at the feeling. Kung Lao helped you sit before cleaning you off, pressing soft kisses to the marks he left.

Kung Lao tossed you your clothes before pulling on his own pants. You reached for the grey shirt making Kung Lao laugh, “If you wanted round two you could have asked.” Kung Lao leaned over you, his hands pressing to either side of your body.

“Maybe I’m saving it for another time,” You teased, a smug smile pulling at your lips.

A knock at Kung Lao’s door made you both jump and you scrambled to pull on the shirt as Kung Lao called out a soft yes. Raiden opened the door, looking in but he kept a hand over his eyes as he stepped in. “Are you both done? I could hear you the second I walked in the front door.” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and Kung Lao chuckled softly.

Raiden carefully took his hand away to look at you both, “Have some humility Lao,” Raiden chastised. “Put a shirt on, I brought dessert.” Raiden turned to close the door but stopped and turned back to Kung Lao, “And is this gonna be a proper thing? Because I think I’d much prefer to hear Kung Lao’s pinning then… that.”

Raiden closed the door without another word and you turned to Kung Lao, a small smile on your lips. “What’s he mean?”

Kung Lao sighed and dropped back against the bed, one hand moving to rest behind his head. “I don’t-” He cut himself off, closing his eyes. You laid next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

“You know, I never expected to find someone like you,” you confessed, your fingers twirling his hair that had fallen from his bun.

Kung Lao's eyes crinkled with a hint of amusement, but his nervous tone was still present, "And what kind of someone did you expect?"

You chuckled, "Definitely not someone as incredible as you. I mean, you not only have these killer martial arts moves but also a heart that's surprisingly sweet."

Kung Lao's lips curved into a playful grin, "Well, don't let the hat fool you. It's not just for show."

You swung your leg over his hips, resting on his stomach. His hands immediately went to your hips, just resting there like they belonged. “We can go out tomorrow, talk about… this properly, but Raiden does have desert and that sounds pretty good right now.”

Kung Lao smiled and used one hand to push himself up, the other wrapping around you to keep you planted in his lap. His eyes wandered over your face, pausing on your bruised lips. “And if it wasn’t obvious,” You said softly, your lips drawing closer to his, “I really really like you Kung Lao. Ego and all.”

“Well, that's good, you can keep stealing my shirts then.”

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

[distracted-milkshake]

Tony Stark A-Z Cuddling Headcanons:

Warnings: mentions of sex adjacent things (aftercare), literally nothing else

A. Apart. If they really like cuddling, how do they feel when the can't? Do they substitute pillows? He doesn’t like to admit it, but he gets used to it and feels deprived to the point of having trouble falling asleep when he can’t. He gets fidgety, but won’t bring himself to make do with pillows or anything else, that’s not what does it for him

B. Breathing. Does their breathing slow down, speed up or stay the same when they're really close to someone else? It slows down noticeably, something that’s been difficult to get into with him is how no matter what’s happening, he’s always just that bit stressed. It’s more evident when he’s actual able to relax, just how tense and controlled he usually is looks like a different person in comparison

C. Contact. Is skin-to-skin uncomfortable for them? To start? Oh yeah. Any skin on skin that wasn’t sexual just felt off, but after some time he started wanting to be able to feel your bare arms, chest or back against him

D. Daytime. Morning, evening, midday or night, when do they prefer and when do they cuddle better? He cuddles best in the evenings, after everything else has been officially put aside for bed

E. Efficiency. Are they utilitarian about it? Do they have to be able to get something done while cuddling or can they get completely lost in it? He needs it to manage to take his mind off everything for even a minute, it’s one of few things he can convince himself is more about you than him, and therefore not a waste of time to not be getting anything else done in the meanwhile. Doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried

F. Frequency. How often do they like to cuddle? If he could, it would be for hours every other day and twice on Sundays. He absolutely refuses to beg or even ask more than once a week, however, so he makes do with just every now and then

G. Generally. Are they more of an active snuggler or a passive holder? Are they delicate and slow or more rough and nuzzly? Fully on the fucking little spoon Tony, you cannot tell me this man has the emotional wherewithal to give much more than a stiff hug. He needs to be held to even realize he wants it

H. Height. Do they prefer to be above or below or right at their partner's eye level? Below, he likes to be able to bury his face against you and feel your heartbeat

I. Irritated. Does it come naturally? Are they upset they aren't good at it? Is there anything that really annoys them? It’s always gotta end, whether it’s work or calls or just plain discomfort, he can’t just rest with you forever and sometimes he really, really wants to

J. Jittering. How good are they at holding still and not elbowing/kneeing their partner? Once he gets into it he’s pretty good about that, but before getting settled he can be unbearable

K. Kissing. Is cuddling inherently romantic for them? The question sort of lacks application. You’re inherently the romance of his life, and he thinks of you that way, but you’re also his best friend, so split the difference? Cuddling is an expression of love for you, in all the ways he feels it

L. Location. Pretty self explanatory; couch, bed, grass, bench, floor, etc... Where's the snuggling getting down at? Literally anywhere, if you’ve got a minute, and he’s tired, or drunk, or down, he will cuddle up to you without any preamble, with or without reciprocation

M. Meaning. What does cuddling mean to them, like, does it make them feel loved? Is it a reminder of relationships past in a good or bad way? He’s never really been close in that way to anyone, so it feels very special to share it with you

N. Nest. Are they That Person™ who likes to make a whole piling pallet of pillows and blankets and plushies that uses every soft object within a quarter-mile radius? Nope! Not the nesting, but the nestling type, your the best pillow in the whole world as far as he’s concerned, and he would gladly nap on concrete if you were next to him

O. Opinion. Do they even like cuddling? Are they open to it? Would they prefer to show affection some other way? He loves it. It’s easier than talking, and it shows he loves you without having to get into anything all that difficult

P. Positions. (First person to make a sex joke gets it) This article is incredibly helpful. He really likes to face you. Anything with him on your chest, lap, or in your arms is ideal

Q. Questions. Do they feel like talking in ways they otherwise wouldn't when cuddling? Does it help them open up? Depending on the context, it absolutely can help him get to deeper feelings express himself in less extravagant and more meaningful ways

R. Response. If they haven't cuddled with their partner at all before, how do they react when first asked? He was by no means against it, it just felt like a weird, kind of juvenile thing to him, especially outside of the context of aftercare or falling asleep

S. Spooning. You knew it was coming. Who's the big/little spoon? Or knife. Fork? Spork...? (are they neither a spoon nor a spooned?) As already established, Tony is the little spoon I will die on this damn hill, that waist was made to be held

T. Temperature. Assuming it's already a comfortable for them temperature in the house/room/place, do they want to be warmer or cooler cuddling? Blankets are a no unless your looking for him to fall asleep, he prefers to have airflow and not build up a lot of body heat while cuddling

U. Under. Assuming they don't exclusively cuddle sideways, do they want the other person on top of them or vice versa? He loves feeling supported by you, he tends to get a little uncomfortable with your weight on top of him for too long, unless it’s any of his limbs in which case he’ll let them fall asleep and not notice till you move

V. Volume. Do they need silence or can other things be going on? It isn’t necessary, but it is preferable for him that other things are nonexistent or at least stalled

W. Wallowing. Is it emotional for them, and if so in a good way or a bad way? The first time Tony cried in front of you was when you were cuddling. The worst part was how much he thought he’d messed up, trying to deny or justify why, the reason wasn’t as heartbreaking as his inability to accept that it was okay. He’s still working up to letting himself feel things that intensely, and knowing he’s allowed to

X. eXplaining. Would they feel embarrassed if someone else walked in on them and their s/o cuddling? He has no shame, so pretty much no, but he would feel the need to explain himself

Y. Yours. Are they generous or do they kinda take what they want? Usually a pretty selfish partner in general, but he’s been getting better at it

Z. Zzz.... Does almost none of this matter if it just puts them to sleep...? Tony sleeps an absolute rock, but the good news that makes him a great sleep cuddler, and an even better weighted blanket

He just loves being physically close to you, whether cuddling or not

Blank List

[asordinaryppl]

A3! 8th Anniversary Event - Le Cadeau's Blessings: Bless your ending - Episode 1: Team Practice < Daytime >

Sakuya: Okay, let’s start the meeting!

Tsumugi: I’ll be in your care.

Taichi: Teach said the whole picking’s a little unusual, but why are we split up like this?

Yuki: Beats me. All troupes were divided in half, but that doesn’t really tell us anything.

Azami: Right. I don’t think that’s enough to call it unusual.

Kumon: I don’t get it at all either, but I’m SUPER happy I get to be on the same team as Nii-chan!

Muku: Yeah. I’m happy Juu-chan and I are on the same team, too.

Juza: Yeah, me too.

Hisoka: Zzzz…

Tasuku: Oi, don’t sleep.

Muku: Ah, Alice-san gave me marshmallows… Here you go, Hisoka-san.

Hisoka: Amph… Nom, nom… Thanks, Muku.

Masumi: Zzz… Zzz…

Tsuzuru: C’mon, Masumi, you can’t nap either.

Sakuya: Masumi-kun, let’s do our best to wake up and join in too.

Masumi: Guess I have to…

Sakuya: Thanks. But I really do wonder what the reason is… We have the double casting, so I don’t think it’s based on our roles.

Kumon: Hmmm… Maybe we were picked in height order?

Yuki: How do you look at us and think that?

Sakuya: I think Tsuzuru-kun and Tasuku-san would be on the other team if that were the case…

Taichi: Our schools… Uh, we all went to different ones, didn’t we.

Muku: Do you have an idea, Masumi-kun?

Masumi: Kind of. I’m not sure if I’m right though.

Tsuzuru: Ohh, figured you would. You got it too, didn’t you, Tsukioka-san?

Tsumugi: Yeah. I have something in mind that might be it.

Kumon: HUH!? Masumi-san, Tsumugi-san, you already got it!?

Taichi: Give us a hint!

Tsumugi: A hint, huh… Oh, hey Tasuku. What did you think when you saw the members here?

Tasuku: Weren’t you going to give a hint?

Tsumugi: This is the hint. Come on, hurry.

Tasuku: … I’m looking forward to acting with such an interesting cast line up again.

Tasuku: But I kinda haven’t been able to relax ever since the meeting started.

Kumon: This is the hint…?

Tsumugi: Yup. I sort of get where Tasuku’s coming from, by the way. It’s fun, though.

Hisoka: … Why?

Tasuku: Even if you ask that…

Tsumugi: Fufu. You fit in strangely well, Hisoka-kun. I got that impression from your exchange with Muku-kun earlier, too.

Yuki: … Ah, I think I got it.

Azami: So that’s what it is.

Masumi: I think I was right.

Taichi: Whaa! I still don’t get it one bit!

Juza: I don’t either…

Kumon: Do you have any other hints, Tsumugi-san?

Tsumugi: Let me see… Oh, I think what you said earlier was kind of close.

Kumon: What I said?

Tsumugi: Height isn’t the only thing we can put in order, is it?

Juza: Height’s not the only thing…

Muku: … Ohhh!

Taichi: Do you mean our ages, maybe!?

Kumon: ACK, I wanted to say it!

Tsumugi: Fufu, yes. I think they separated us by age.

Muku: I see. So that’s why this is our lineup.

Juza: … In that case, I ain’t down with Settsu bein’ on the other team.

Tsuzuru: Ahhh… For the Autumn Troupe, since you and Banri were pretty much in the same spot on the dividing line, we decided who goes where by your birthdays.

Hisoka: … So? Why can’t you relax, Tasuku?

Tasuku: Unlike the other groups, the Winter Troupe’s members are older, yeah?

Tasuku: I’m generally being treated as one of the eldest members of the company, so being grouped with the youngest members feels weird.

Tsumugi: But that’s exactly why we might be able to show a different side of our acting this time.

Sakuya: Yes. I’m sure it’s the same for the other team as well. Even though our script will be the same, we will be able to show something different.

Sakuya: Let’s show the audience a story we can tell exactly because of who MANKAI Company is now!

-

Izumi: Well then, please let everyone know that they won’t be doing role study in pairs like last time.

Sakuya: Understood!

Izumi: That’s all for today’s meeting. Thanks for attending!

Tenma: Good work.

Tsumugi: Good work. You’ll be leaving after this, right, Director?

Izumi: Yes. Speaking of which, I have to go!

Banri: See ya.

Sakuya: See you later!

[Door closing]

Tsumugi: So, how’s your team, you two?

Tenma: Well, there’s a few lively guys, but it’s generally calmer than usual.

Banri: The conversation continues even without us takin’ the initiative. On the other side, I bet you guys have a lively bunch on your hands.

Sakuya: Yeah, it’s lively and fun.

Banri: I bet you and Tasuku-san feel a lil weird bein’ in there though.

Tsumugi: Ahaha… We thought the same thing, too.

Tsumugi: But right now, I think we’re just excited to stand on the stage with those members.

Tenma: It's the same for us.

Banri: Yeah. Let’s both make it the best show ever.

Sakuya: Yeah! First things first, let’s both teams do our best in the rehearsals!

-

Sakuya: … And so, we decided in our latest leaders meeting that the double cast members won’t be working with each other to prepare for their roles.

Tasuku: That’s intentional, isn’t it?

Tsumugi: Yeah. Last time with Nihil, the bond between brothers played a huge part in the story, right?

Tsumugi: But this time, we think the key will be the actions and thoughts of each of the 12 students individually.

Sakuya:  Each student has a different reason for enrolling, and they all have different feelings towards books and stories. We think it’s important for us to convey those differences individually this time around.

Tsumugi: That’s why we’ve decided not to work together on the double casts this time, since we believe that it will bring out everyone’s unique characteristics more strongly that way.

Juza: … Sounds good.

Tsuzuru: Every person reacts differently when reading a story. That’s why I think it’d definitely be interesting to have those differences shown in our play.

Muku: May I ask a question?

Tsumugi: Go ahead.

Muku: We’re just forbidden from doing any role study together, right? We can still talk to each other normally…?

Kumon: Or are we not allowed to talk to them at all until the actual play…?

Tsumugi: Fufu, of course not. We’re not gonna restrict your movements for anything other than role study.

Yuki: Well, we do live together. It’d be impossible to begin with.

Kumon: I’m excited to see what the others are doing, but this is putting some kinda pressure on me, too~…

Azami: Geez, we’ve just started and you’re already overthinking.

Tsumugi: I’m sure the other team is feeling that pressure, too. But we have a strength they don’t.

Hisoka: … A strength?

Tsumugi: A lot of our members are currently students. I, on the other hand, have to make sure I don’t stand out too much…

Taichi: You’ll be fine, Tsumugi-san!

Masumi: It’s Tasuku who’s nothing like a student.

Tasuku: … I’m aware of that, so I’m gonna focus on working on it when building my role.

Yuki: I’ll try to see if I can cover whatever can be covered through your costume.

Azami: I’ll come up with a bunch of makeup ideas, too. In exchange, I might need to borrow your face to try ‘em out.

Tasuku: Sure, no problem.

Izumi: Let’s start practice, then.

Sakuya: Yes! We’ll be in your care, Director!

-

Izumi: That’s all for today. Good work, everyone. Take a good rest.

Sakuya: Thank you!

Hisoka: Zzz… Zzz…

Masumi: He fell asleep so fast… I’m getting sleepy too…

Tsuzuru: Wait till we get to our room, Masumi. You too, Mikage-san, let’s go to bed first.

Tasuku: Minagi, I’ll carry Mikage.

Muku: Um, Tasuku-san.

Tasuku: What’s wrong?

Muku: Are you going running tomorrow morning? I was thinking I’d join you if you were…

Tasuku: Sure thing. That was already my plan, so let’s go together.

Muku: Really? Thank you so much!

Juza: Can I join too?

Kumon: I wanna come too!

Tasuku: Sure. I’ve got no problem no matter how many of you join. Anyone who wakes up tomorrow morning can come with.

Izumi: Tasuku-san looks kinda happy.

Tsumugi: Fufu. Of course he is, the only one in the Winter Troupe that ever goes running with him is Guy-san.

-

Tasuku: … I didn’t expect so many of you to show up.

Muku: I know right!

Kumon: Going for a run in the morning is kinda so exciting!

Tasuku: Some of you here aren’t used to running for too long, so take it at your own pace and don’t push yourselves too much.

Sakuya: Okay!

Juza: ‘Kay.

Tasuku: Alright, let’s go.

-

Tasuku: … Okay. Let’s stop for a break around here.

Muku: Okay.

Tsuzuru: … Whew, water tastes so good.

Muku: We’re kind of like a school club running all together like this!

Kumon: You’re right! Would Tasuku-san be our captain? Or maybe you, Muku!?

Tasuku: Since we’re talking about being a track and field club, wouldn’t Sakisaka be a better fit?

Muku: Huh!? I don’t think I would…! You have much more stamina than me, Tasuku-san, and you’ve got it together, too…!

Sakuya: But it was you who was looking out for all of us while we were running, Muku-kun.

Juza: Yeah. You’d be a great fit.

Muku: You too, Juu-chan? … Ehehe, thanks.

Kumon: Oh! Hey, did you guys talk with your double cast partner about the play and stuff?

Tasuku: Nah, I haven’t talked to Ikaruga any.

Tsuzuru: When Miyoshi-san and I talked about the play, it started looking like we were about to try building our role, so we had to break it up midway.

Sakuya: Something like that happened with me and Tenma-kun too.

Kumon: Figuresss~ I was thinking I wanted to talk to Omi-san too, but then I realized I’d just end up asking him all sorts of things.

Muku: It makes you hesitate to even have a normal conversation, doesn’t it?

Juza: I ended up askin’ Sakyo-san for advice while we were talkin’…

Tasuku: It’s hard to figure out what to talk about with your double cast partner when you want to talk about the show, huh.

Muku: That’s true. It feels like any conversation we’ll have could be used for role study…

Tsuzuru: I guess being curious about what your partner is up to and wanting to ask them things just comes with the territory.

Juza: You can’t help but wonder what they’re doin’ to build the role.

Sakuya: I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing but… It sort of becomes the only thing occupying your mind…

Sakuya: I think it’d be nice if we could use that to push us forward as we continue practicing.

episode 1 < night > previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[cultkinkcoven]

NSFW MINORS DNI

The timeline of this is gonna be confusing for you guys (but not for me so lol sorry)

These bits about these fragmented dreams was written yesterday morning.

“So last night’s dream was extremely fragmented and I can’t even remember most of it, but I do very distinctly remember being in that shop again (There’s some sort of magic shop, crystal shop? Always has the most beautiful tools and supplies I have ever seen and I am always??? Too broke to afford any of it). Last night I stole?? I stole! I was a sneaky thief and I hovered beneath the shelves and stole a tarot deck- it was explicitly a “Tarot of Lucifer” deck, omg it was so gorgeous. And I also stole a couple incense cones from a wooden bin. I succeeded? I think? I got out of there and I used the cones and cards outside in the woods ? FUCK I can’t remember what cards I pulled. But I remember recollecting on it as a victory. 

ALSO another one, on a beach, at night. Roaring ocean waves, and all the rocks were crystals. But it was somehow also simultaneously daytime??? The beach was split into these sections we would walk across that were daytime. Idk how to explain that, very liminal. Me and my friends were there collecting crystals. And my homie asked me if I was gonna give one to Lucifer- it was a ruby or something. And for some reason I remember being like “no, he already has one.” ?? which is weird because I don’t feel like I ordinarily would have said that. Idk. I probably forgot something. “

I spend a large part of that day studying with Lucifer, Gematric and magical tablet stuff. Basically spent the whole day deep in that mf grimoire. And then I set up this little altar thing in the living room with the fountain I just got (I’ll show that later, she’s beautiful).

That day at around maybe 3-4pm I decided to do shrooms and enter into a ritual. 1, because I was bored- my bf was fixing on the cars and he had my charger so both my phone and ipad were dead (till he got home), 2- Thought it was the only real slot of time I’d get before having to go back to working and thinking and shit, 3- hadn’t gotten the opportunity to do some serious ritual work on shrooms yet. My homie got me some for my birthday, why not. 

I was actually half watching Naruto with my roommate when the drugs started to hit, and I kind of just quietly slipped away and was like “I’mma go take a nap.”

Quite simple set up this time, I only lit one candle (his), got him (and I) a bit of water, made some sigils, oil, incense, the works. I also ate leftover lasagne because I needed a chaser with the shrooms. 

It started soft. He came pretty promptly but he meandered. Chanting his enn felt really really good.

We were working in his office, the same stuff I was working on before I fell into him- those  tablets and squares. I’ve always found magical squares to be really difficult to understand, probably because I’m bad at math. He says they’re very powerful tools so I tried. So confusing though, and purposely so. 

And he was helping me do my homework, all the while smoking. And at some point he made himself a drink, and then another, and another. He offered me a smoke, I accepted. It hit me a bit harder than usual, I started to feel wavy and giddy almost immediately. It was a really nice high, more embodied than weed is even in my waking “real” life. The shrooms were definitely to thank for that.

We started chatting about the work, I was asking him a lot of questions, and then eventually we ended up talking about whatever. Lots of different topics, it went to cars and the steadily increasing speed of human travel through history, absurdist art and graffiti, then train hopping and vagabonds, then substances, addiction. It was obvious he was feeling very chatty I was still working somewhat though, still reading and going back to my books, asking him questions about what I was doing. I was into it, I was like, super interested in the squares, perhaps because they were coming alive for me. And I was fascinated by them. And for a while I thought this trip would really just be me getting a super in depth metaphysical break down of magic and occult theories and shit.

He wandered around the room and fiddled with things. I would hesitate to call him restless but it was something like it. Maybe just playfully wandering. But he did eventually settle.

 I was laying on the floor with my books all in front of me. He was up on the couch watching me. At some point he kicked my ass with his foot playfully. He was barefoot. 

He did that a couple times, just small ways of distracting me. He slid down into the couch and hung off of it, his head dangling in front of me, his hair (black today) laid over my pages. Another very aesthetically pleasing moment.

“If you-” he had kind of started, but I had awkwardly pecked his cheek, a strange awkward timing- and that was something that revealed his altered state more than anything else actually. I don;t know how to explain that he wasn’t clumsy, he wasn’t awkward, didn’t even necessarily seem drunk by any means (besides how kind of excited he was) - but his and my timing, the way we moved or the timing at which things occurred was just slightly off, that was what was clumsy. We’d bump into each other, or he’d start talking when I’d start talking. 

And he smiled. Oh yes, something different about that smile, what is that? It’s almost uncanny if that’s possible because it’s beautiful. But idk, non-human maybe. And holy moly, did he ever smell like liquor. Oh man, he smelled like a bar. I didn’t think he’d drank that much, he drinks all the time and doesn’t smell so strongly of alcohol. His face was flushed.

“If you were a God what would you be the God of?” he asked. And drank his drink ??? upside down? Like lmao - like he was right side up. Just kind of inexplicably was able to not have gravity affect his drink which, I mean- is doable for a God but was just so bewildering at the time. Mind you I also felt very high, and more weird shit like this kept occuring.

“I usually try not to think of myself that way,” I answered. I kind of started touching his face. Idk, I wasn’t really doing anything, just like stroking his skin, his little facial hairs.

And he let himself slide down the rest of the way off of the couch. Audibly made a sound of annoyance, ugh, completely layed over all of my books, my pens. Said “why do you never want to have fun?” like a child. WHAT? I literally laughed out loud, “okay. Idk. I think I would maybe be the God of something having to do with deity work or spirit communication idk.”

And he slapped my ass, like hard- really hard, it stang down my whole leg, and I screamed and cried like wtf ow

And he was like “wrong, try again.”

?????????? wrong ????????? mother fucker?????? You asked me my fucking opinion???

And he was like “no I asked you a question and you got it wrong.” Sipping his drink again. 

“Are you actually drunk? Like are you actually drunk for real?” I asked. And he made a face like a fucking toddler being caught with cookie all over his face. 

“Nooo……”

“Because Gods can’t get drunk,” I said through a laugh, “is this some form of communication you’re doing, Lucifer?”

And he mocked me, again like a child. “Gods can’t get drunk- you know-” 

And he like, propped himself over me in a weird way, “you human beings sure like to make a lot of STATEMENTS about what GODS can and cannot DO-!” he was almost yelling. Oh wow, yeah, he is drunk. And I went to say something, I don’t even remember what it was, and he put his hand inside my mouth. Went “yeah yeah yea , ANSWER the question, the question, the question.”

Lmfao???? I bit his hand, hard, because that slap on my ass really did hurt. He pulled his hand away from me like I was a bird or a dog or something- like some kind of animal you’re somehow surprised and confused is actually biting you- which is absurd.

“God of pissing you off,” I answered. 

He sat himself on top of me, which somehow didn’t immediately kill me, but he was heavy. And he was like “That’s closer!”

“God of inquisition?” I said, that was a genuine one. He shook his head. 

“God of, idk… observation? Hyper-fixation? Vessel-hood?”

He smiled wide, and oh my goods, guys, ,, how do I even describe this. His smile was so devilish, but also so juvenile, “vessel-hood, No, no. .. Closer though.”

I gave an exasperated breath. Is it ????? possible to run out of breath in a dream? Swirling in my chest. Fluttering. Shrooms, right. 

And he lifted up, propped himself over me in a more overt way. Grabbed my face. 

“Do you want a hint?” he whispered. Oh. I nodded my head. 

He started undressing. Oh ?

Oh? Oh? I wasn’t expecting it. I was but I wasn’t. Why wouldn’t I? I don’t know, somehow it still surprised me.

“When uh- when humans invoke you Shi, if humans were ever going to invoke you Shi, I think it would be to learn how to fuck their God,” he said in a half whisper, still smiling, smiling almost bashfully, devilishly. 

WH

WTF

“Or maybe just me, especially me,” he added, “That’s what I think you uniquely inspire people to do, I think that’s what you’re really good at.”

I really was speechless. It was like a shock to my system in a weird way, both sobered and dazed me. Made my heart pound.

“Are you high?” he asked, “how high are you?”

I didn’t really know. I mean yes, I was. But I also really didn’t think I was as high as he was. I was definitely ascending though. 

“Yeah, I.. I’m high. 

“Do you like that when you’re high?” he asked, sort of gripping my leg. 

Again. ??? We’ve done that many times when I’ve been high. (not this high) “Yeah.”

“Do you like that when I’m high?” he then asked again. 

Oh. I…….. don’t know……. That’s never…… happened……………

I made a face, it probably looked panicked. 

“Do you?” I asked back. He raised my shirt a little bit, looked up it loudly. 

“Mmmmmmmm. Probably.” -very short, “but you’d get me in weird mode, so maybe best not.”

“What the fuck is weird mode?” 

He shrugged, ‘unpredictable”

“Uncontrollable?” I asked slightly nervously. 

“Never uncontrollable, baby.” he said into my stomach, started kissing it. Can’t lie and say my pants weren’t drenched, but I was still nervous, increasingly so, and I was getting higher by the second. 

And then he sort of stretched my arms out, got very close to me. “What do you think a drunk God would feel like inside you?” he was looking, staring, deep into my eyes, could write a whole essay about his eyes but lets just say they were beautiful, “a drug God and a high vessel, mm?”

And we both kind of said it at the same time, but we didn’t say it, it just rang through the air, “risky..”

I heard bells, the type of bells you hear all the time in those meditation videos. 

I expected wrestling, but no, we kind of just started kissing. But he was kissing me like a pervert, sucking on me, tasting me. Groping me. I think every nerve in my body was firing.

And then he did this thing that was almost submissive. Cuddled up close to my chest and was just kind of sucking on it- my chest. Like he was hiding, trying to be small.

I smiled. “You would probably love to drink my blood right now,” - one of those things I kind of just said without thinking, and he stiffened, laughed in a way that really did sound drunk. “Mmhhhmm,,, I would, baby.” touching himself now like he was masturbating to the idea. Purring.

I immediately understood that drunk doesn’t mean forceful and intense, it means extremely sloppy, sleazy. 

His sucking tickled. M.. i am high. Really high. 

I was surprised that the moving of his hips was so steady. Like an ocean wave. He didn’t strip me completely, he pulled my boxers to the side. Sort of fucked me like it was a secret. Subtly, while groping me and saying.. All kinds of things into my ear. “My boy.”

Gosh I am really fucking high, and every movement from him feels immaculate. 

Things got gooey fast, we were making a really big mess, the kind he would usually try to prevent. Stains on his carpet. Spilled glasses of whiskey. 

The interesting thing about the hallucinations is that they? Overlaid on a different visual plane than the astral space. Idk, I could somewhat tell what was my mind just generating - kaleidoscopes, eyeballs, shapes, colors,- and the extra- textural reality of whatever plane Lucifer was on if that makes sense. 

And then he looked up, towards the door. His door. But when he did I heard a knocking at my door, my bedroom door. It came a few more times, that’s real. It was my roommate, they wanted me to get my clothes out of the washer. 

It took all my strength to get up and run to grab my clothes, and that was when I was fully aware of how altered I was. And he was still within me. 

When I got back into my room I just collapsed into my bed, and he mounted me immediately, sais something very harsh, “get the fuck over here, lay the fuck down,” something like that, and I felt like my clothes were being torn off of me.

We were going at it at this point, and the room sort of melted away. My books, the carpet, the couch, became his bedroom, his sheets, his pillows. And, you guys know, it would be obnoxious for me to explain how great it was. 

This next part is going to be really really hard to explain. 

Something incredible happened. We connected, and it was like, I don’t know. Something very cosmic. Steller. In a very literal way. Or like.. Something to do with radio waves. Timelessness. Space travel.

And he said something like, “you’re on the intergalactic cosmic highway, baby, I can take you anywhere and any place.”

And we did go to many places. Far and near places. Places that were just way too fucking beautifully mundane and nostalgic. An old gas station with the buzzing white fluorescent lights, a parking lot in Vegas, the back kitchen of an old underground Indian restaurant, places with people, I don’t know why people. 

And then, we were running through the streets of some small town in the middle of nowhere, and then we were at the tip of the Eiffel tower. And he was ranting, we were talking, laughing, or debating about something, lots of things. He went on long theatrical rants, screamed about things. Talked about great things, ranted about things that don’t even matter. Mad genius. We’re dancing.

The room was on fire, everything was burning, and when I looked outside, everything was burning. And I again saw people, perhaps maybe in real time. Running around, in the streets. Riots, protests. A mother just screaming. And also dancing, that weird marching band thing that happens when you’re in a protest and someone starts stomping on beat, or playing a song. Tear gas. But also, a party. And everything is on fire, the world is on fire, but where am I? What were we doing while the world was burning?

 We were in a closet, some kind of studio, snickering like we had some kind of secret that no one else knows, wrapping each other in fabric and splattering paint, painting each other’s faces. He had lipstick and mascara all over his  face, I had blue paint all over my mouth, in my hair. We’re kids. He puts on a pair of high heels, a wig. I put on a tutu, a crown. What kind of play is this? A comedy- a marriage.

“No you need more green here,” he puts eyeshadow on my chin, giggles. 

And I say “no, look at your hair, your hair is so fucked up, put this plastic necklace thing-” and wrapped some kind of chain around his pony tail. And we’re kissing, and he’s rubbing paint all over my thighs with his fingers.

It starts glowing, and then we’re covered in neon. At an underground rave, mist in the air, hot, heavy. Laser lights pointing everywhere. Drag queens in 10 inch heels, freaky creatures. Moshing.

And then, 

We step out of the rave and its 3am, and we’re drinking water outside. Cold air so crisp against our skin, and oh we’re so drenched in sweat. Still gasping for air.

My boyfriend had come home, I was completely zooted. Had no idea what time it was. 

And Lucifer was still wrapped up in me, the whole time, we had never disconnected. I was cloaked in this cold sweat. The room was so dark, so nice, the perfect temperature.

When my boyfriend joined me in bed everything just became so perfect, I was really in heaven.

Hours went by like that, and at some point in our tossing and turning Lucifer truly did relax. I felt like I was in the deepest secret grove of the sweetest temple. And he completely clutched me, imploded around me, and just stayed like that. Within me, filling me, drinking me. Saying everything I have ever wanted to hear. “You did everything so perfectly, you’re doing so amazing, I’m so happy, I’m so so proud of you, you’re so perfect, wow, I can’t believe how proud of you I am.” I felt the sun rising on me. And it happened multiple times, sunrise, sunlight. He rose multiple times.

At some point he lifted me up, still caressing me like the most precious thing in the world, and in the most gentle voice, ordered me to drink. Water, so cold. 

Wrapped me up in blankets. “You’re okay,” and “I’m going to keep going.”

And I pleaded, wanted him to promise he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wouldn't stop. And he clutched me closer still, hid me in him, shielded me like he was trying to protect me from everything. Kissed my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, can you still feel me?”

Yes, I could, I told him I could. He nodded like he already knew. 

I don’t know how many hours, maybe an eternity. He just held me there in his heart. I could feel him licking me, he was definitely drinking my blood. Filling me. I was so beyond dazed, every sensation only blended with a continual orgasm. There was truly absolutely nothing between us.

Then, hours later, he shifted. I really didn’t want him to leave and he didn’t. We, me, him, my boyfriend, ended up in the shower. Lucifer was still taking care of me, soothing me, whispering “it’s okay, I know, I’m still here. We just need to rinse your face a little bit. Good, that’s perfect.” and when I got out, “Let’s get you dry, I know the air is cold, I’m sorry baby. Would you blow out my candle, love? Oh, perfect, perfect.”

I felt like he carried me into bed, wrapped me up. Still inside me. Asked me to drink another cup of water, pet me. “Perfect, thank you.”

And again, settled into me, cradling me, hiding me. 

“Are you still drunk?” I asked him exhaustedly. He nodded, gods, he was still going.

“Yes, I am still pretty lifted,” he answered, and again, “is this okay?” 

Yes, it’s nice.

“I’m going to keep going until you fall asleep, okay?”

That made me so happy. “Are you going to keep going after I fall asleep?” I asked. 

He looked at me, that concerned parental look. “Would you like me to?”

I almost cried with how hard I moaned. “Yes, please.”

And he nodded, put my head back down into his chest. And said, “Shi, I raised you too well.”

That made me so happy too. 

“Would you really please let me do this to you for the rest of your life?” 

Yes, please. 

And he smiles, but this one isn’t quite devilish. It’s very relaxed.

“Shi I really am in love with you, love itself is not strong enough of a word. I cherish you, you are my pride and joy. I really, really, really mean that Shi, this time for certain.”

Aw. I think I was crying. I know. There I felt beloved by the whole universe.

I didn’t fall asleep for probably another 2 or 3 hours. My boyfriend had long passed out. The shrooms kind of kept me awake, in this liminal state. But it was still wonderful, I think it normally would suck. But every minute was just another moment with him. And I still felt the sentiment that the world was burning. But peace on earth, oh it’s here. I found it. 

Holy fuck

When I woke up the next (this) morning, he was still very much wrapped around me. When I finally actually got up, I felt good, great, dare I say glowy. 

I was able to get up and clean up a bit, get some sun. He is still very much lingering around me. Was so pleased when I lit his candle. He asked me if I was going to write, and I told him I had to get breakfast first. He was so pleased, and at the exact same time, like literally the exact same time, my bf’s mom texted me and offered to buy me breakfast. Aw.

How do I end this? 

Whenever I think I’ve gotten as close to him as I can be, he always surprises me with another layer of depth. I wonder if there’s such a thing as archetypal love, where some things are just intrinsically meant to fit together. Humans and Gods becoming a part of each other’s myths. Idk. Crazy concept. Crazy life, even crazier story.

But hey, shrooms.

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

IM CRYING IM BLUSHING IM DEAD

I HAD A DREAM WITH NAPO THAT WAS SO.......?

I dreamed that we have just started dating ( modern au) and we were having a very innocent kind of love, like highschool sweethearts or something. I was sitting in a chair and he was behind the chair, talking something to me, lightly touching me on the shoulders the whole time. We were both giddy and he just wanted to keep finding excuses to kiss me on the face. He teased me by asking me things but no matter what i answered he kept doing this, he leaned over while i was looking up at him and he kissed my forehead. I was protesting but just for the sake of the game and couldn't help being giddy and happy too. Then my heartbeat sped up and i had an idea.... So i asked him to lean over again and while upside down i aligned us up so that our lips touched in a small innocent kiss ( likely our first?)

And he was so caught off guard and embarrassed that he hid his face with his clothing?? ( It was as if he wore his cape but since this was in a modern setting it wasn't exactly his cape, I don know) And we continued doing this but back to the more innocent kind of teasing though it was like we were holding back...

Then i remember going to the movies, i think? But no details at all

Then we were back at my home, approaching the bed - it was daytime so like a cuddle session or maybe a nap - i remember i was nervous about choosing my clothes and ended up being in a purple spaghetti strap tank top and orange booty shorts ( wow so specific, they're also real clothes i own) and napo was in a black oversized t-shirt and i think sweatpants ... And the reason i was so nervous is because i was gonna suggest to him that we... kiss a little. Like a proper first kiss with tongue, but we can keep doing that ( no need for it to be planned and special) so i guess...a make out session....

And that's it. I also got this dream after deliberately oversleeping after my alarm....so I'm being late right now as we're speaking. I don't care at all for some reason........

[queerdeans]

"Wrap Me Tight" — a Suptober ficlet

Day 17: Wings

Summary:

Dean finds a way, finally, to sleep well.

It’s one of those lazy afternoons. The type Castiel never thought he’d get to experience. He’d heard about them, sure, from the humans; apparently they were very protective over their lazy afternoons, their time spent doing nothing. Castiel had always thought it sounded boring; why would you want to do simply nothing? He had passed entire centuries doing very little, but they’d always moved swiftly, and he’d never quite wanted them to slow down.

Now, though, in the bunker with Dean – Cas understands the appeal.

In between hunts, in between fighting big bads, there are the soft days. The slow ones. Castiel forced himself, at first, to pass them with Dean; to stay, rather than flit off to some far corner, checking for news, omens.

And then he’d found that he quite liked them.

They’re better than the nights. In the afternoons, the lights remain on, there are things to do. They watch movies, or read, or just talk. He loves to hear Dean’s voice, loves what he has to say.

When evening comes, Dean grows cagey. Castiel knows that now that most of the dangers of his life have passed, though something always looms on the horizon, Dean’s having nightmares. He can’t hide it; Castiel can hear him wake up screaming, can see the sweat on his brow in the mornings, and those are the nights when Dean doesn’t allow him into his bedroom. The nights Dean can feel a nightmare coming on.

Castiel hopes this isn’t one of those nights.

It’s raining outside; Cas knows this because he’s coming back from the store, where he picked up drinks and food. When he returns to the bunker, Dean’s in the kitchen, whistling and cleaning. He turns as he hears Castiel approach.

“You get the pie?” he asks, always strangely suspicious that Cas would forget.

Cas holds up the bag. “Of course, Dean,” he replies. “I got several flavors. I didn’t know which you’d prefer.”

He sets it down on the counter and Dean comes over to him. He cups Cas’s cheeks in his hands and says, seriously, “Never change. I ever tell you that? I mean it.” He kisses him lightly before pulling the food from the bag, examining Castiel’s choices.

“Is Sam still not back?” Cas asks.

“Nope, he called a little while ago, said he’d be another night,” Dean replies easily as he takes the meat to the fridge. He casts Cas a backward glance. “Guess it’s just you and me.”

Castiel smiles at that. “We’ll have to make do.”

The afternoon slides by like that. Dean eats a few pieces of one of the pies and drinks a beer; Castiel drinks two bottles of vodka and just begins to feel the tendrils of tipsiness. Dean drags him to the living room and puts a movie on, stretches, and Castiel knows this routine. The one where Dean hems and haws and acts like he doesn’t want to lay in Cas’s lap, but he always ends up there. So Castiel cuts it short; he gestures to his lap, says, “C’mon.”

“If you insist.” Dean lays down on the couch, his legs so long that they kick up onto the opposite armrest, and his head comes to rest in Cas’s lap. Cas brings his fingers to play with Dean’s hair like he knows Dean likes. If Dean can slip into sleep now, he might get some real rest. The bags beneath his eyes, his heavy movements – these might fade. However, he knows that even in naps, even during the daytime, Dean often wakes up screaming.

The movie continues and he feels Dean relax slowly. His own eyelids begin to droop, though he is an angel, he is not truly falling into sleep – it’s more like his body (his vessel – he needs to stop referring to it as his body) is slipping into a calm, relaxed state alongside Dean’s.

He doesn’t realize he’s done it until Dean jumps, looking around wildly. “What the fuck–”

“What, Dean?” Castiel looks around them but there’s nothing there.

“Something – fucking – touched me–” Dean’s sitting up straight now and he touches his hand to his waist, frowning down at it.

Castiel pauses, realization dawning on him, and he doesn’t say anything for a moment. He’s not sure how Dean will take it.

But Dean knows him by now, knows him well enough that he narrows his eyes at him. “Cas,” he says, warning.

“It was, uh, me,” Castiel admits carefully. Dean has taken fairly well to some of his other angelic aspects, but Cas isn’t quite sure about this.

“You?” Dean raises his eyebrows. “How, you got another hand I don’t know about?”

“Not a hand.” Castiel watches him, waits for him to realize.

And he does – pretty quickly, too. Dean’s raised eyebrows go even higher, more curious. “Your wings? Touched me?”

“I’m afraid so.” He hadn’t meant to do it, truly. It was an angelic impulse, he supposes – the desire to embrace Dean with more than just his hands, his arms.

“Didn’t know they could uh, break the fourth wall like that,” Dean says, and he seems half-amused, half… is he scared?

“Typically no. But I… I lost focus. I apologize, Dean, I didn’t mean to.” Shame, a frustratingly human emotion, floods him.

Dean frowns. “No, no, man, it’s…” He breathes a laugh. “I mean. It’s just weird, I didn’t know that was, uh, something that was… possible.”

“It’s likely never happened before,” Castiel allows. “I doubt any other angel has ever allowed themselves to be so relaxed in the presence of a human.”

“Aw, Cas, you sayin’ I make you comfortable? You go all gooey and forget your form?” Dean jokes with a smirk.

“In a sense.”

Dean leans forward and kisses him. “It’s okay, Cas. I get it. You’re a celestial being crammed into a body. If anything, I’m honored.”

Dean relaxes back against him, lying with his head in Cas’s lap again, and Cas allows his wings to spread out. The movie continues to play but neither is paying attention to it.

Dean can surely hear the flutter of his wings, and Castiel wraps them around him, tentatively at first. The way he can feel Dean beneath his hands and wings is entirely different; the last time, in fact, he held Dean like this was in the depths of Hell. He had wrapped him in his wings and soared upward, the man’s body safe against Castiel’s chest.

Now years have passed. Slow, human years. So many things have happened and Castiel is able to touch Dean now without shame. He was once told that the touch of Dean corrupted him, that he had been lost the moment he’d laid a hand – a wing – upon his skin. But Castiel knows this isn’t the case.

He feels the moment Dean slips out of wakefulness and into sleep, and Castiel wraps his wings more tightly around him. He can hear the rustle of feathers and he allows his own head to fall back against the back of the couch, his own eyes to fall shut. He isn’t the one being held, and yet he too can feel the calm, the warmth of it.

It’s morning when Dean wakes. Twelve hours of sleep have gone by with no dreams whatsoever; he rolls over, groggy, stiff from the couch cushions, and rubs his eyes. Castiel smiles down at him, looking as if he too is coming from sleep. “Good morning, Dean,” he says. “How’d you sleep?”

And Dean takes a moment to assess, to smile, before he says, “Like a fuckin’ baby.”

[alex51324]

Parker Dam Trip Report, Part One!

This ended up being a little delayed; yesterday was a bit Busy, plus I kept trying to post some videos I took, and it won't let me. :( One of them was Night Sounds In the Bog, and it is very good.

Another one is about the mystery of how the millipede knows which leggy to do next.

But anyway! Here are Activities:

Since Sophie couldn't hike, this trip was a little subdued. One of her main activities was Porch Nap:

Upon arrival we got unpacked, and Sophie started her first Porch Nap, while I took a little walk down the boardwalk, past the pond,

And to the lake:

Here you can see part of the lake and the dam. Note the bat box on the light pole.

The pond and the lake are connected by a culvert that runs under the road and parking lot, and there were three palomino trout hanging around it:

Pictured: the other two kept going too deep to be in the picture.

I didn't have my fishing stuff, but I decided to go back in the morning and try to catch them!

Spoiler: I did not.

But I did find a little friend when I was looking for a lost lure! Do you see the friend?

He is a snake friend. We were friendly from a respectful distance.

After attempting to fish, I came back to the cabin and did Hammock Nap:

The view from the hammock:

Because the hammock is green, and I was sleepy, at one point i decided that I was a little bug in a rolled-up leaf.

I woke up from Bug Nap at about 8 PM, and made supper on the fire:

Sweet potato, spinch, and flounder. It was pretty good.

The next day I went to the Elk Visitor Center. I did not see any elk--apparently autumn evenings are the best time, and spring afternoons are among the worst--but the visitor center was interesting.

Before we go any further, I would like to show you this, from the park nature center:

This is a taxidermy whitetail deer, a mature buck, mounted on a one-foot-high pedestal, with the photo taken at my eye level. This is our typical large wild mammal that is all over the place where I live.

This, on the other hand, is a taxidermy elk, a mature bull, mounted on a one-foot-high pedestal, with the photo taken at my eye level:

This was the best way I could come up with to convey the central discovery of the visit, which is that Elk Are Big.

Here is the taxidermy elk from a little further away:

This room also has a table with an elk pelt and several sets of antlers, which you are allowed to touch. Most of the sets of antlers were wider than my armspan, and the pelt would have covered a twin-size bed.

I went into this with the vague idea that elk are basically big deer, but I emerged with the understanding that they are

BIG

deer.

Anyway, the elk place also has large meadows planted with elk food:

And viewing blinds where you can watch the elk:

If you are lucky enough to be there when elk are. I need to remember to plan a fall trip up to this part of the state sometime, so I can go again and actually see elk.

The next day, Sunday, was lake day; I got Willow out for a trip around the lake, and then we had hot dogs in the big pavilion by the lake, and then I tried to fish, but a very large and rowdy youth group arrived for a canoeing outing, so I gave up and went back to the cabin and made shrimpy pasta:

Then I took my flashlight hike down to the boardwalk and made my Bog Sounds video that Tumblr won't let you see. In the morning, after we'd packed up the cabin, I went back and did the same recordings of the daytime sounds. Tumblr won't let you see those, either, but here are some pictures:

So the way the boardwalk goes is that it starts out in the woods behind the cabin area, and then there's this marshy bit,

And then a little stream that is very red from the tannins in the hemlock trees,

and then the pond! And as previously discussed, the pond connects to the big lake through the culvert under the parking lot.

The other side of the lake also has another little boardwalk:

which has nice views of the lake. Here I took a little video of one of the streams that feeds the lake, but, you know.

Then we went on the driving tour, which starts out with the octagonal cabin, and some signs about the tornado that almost destroyed it, along with actually destroying a stretch of forest, in 1985:

You can rent this cabin, and I'd like to stay in it someday, but it's kind of expensive because the park cabins charge by how many beds there are, and it has 12. Also, it has only an outhouse, which is not my favorite when it comes to hygiene arrangements.

I did the driving tour last time we were here, but I was glad I did it again, because Sophie loved it this time:

She was looking out the window, completely enthralled, the entire time.

And that was our trip! Next I will share some pictures of the cabin, but that will have to wait until tomorrow, because I have to be up very early for work.