#i also have intrusive thoughts occasionally

[rhythmic-idealist]

I’ve found some of the most genuine care around me from my coworkers.

Maybe it’s that this is how I’ve always conducted friendships, that I never knew how to hang out outside of high school lunches either. But standing around after work is where we talk about our brains and childhoods and philosophy and hypothetical economic systems and fucking mortality and whatever else. There was a moment in time when I thought the first time I was gonna meet a coworkers kids was gonna be babysitting them for free because he was at the doctor a lot because maybe he had cancer. I’m just commenting bc I know the coworker relationship is sometimes talked about online as a universally annoying one - and there are some coworkers I do not enjoy the company of - but that’s where I’ve found some of the most warmth in my day to day outside of my partners. It’s also where I’ve found people who have made me feel miserable, don’t get me wrong, but it’s where some of my most meaningful relationships are. Nothing is WRONG with that.

There’s awkwardness. I’m very loud and some people are very quiet, and so I always feel unwanted, like an intrusion on their quiet. But I gave union advice to a coworker once and now he comes to me and asks me sometimes, and when he noticed I was taking Lyft home some days he offered to drive me home when I needed it. Are we still able to chat? Not much. One time I asked him “what artist is this [playing rn?]” as if particularly niche, and you could see the light die behind his eyes as he had to say “Kendrick” and I’m still recovering. But if one of us needs something I know we got us.

Recently we were worried one of us was going to be unfairly fired. Several of us were talking to each other and trying to strategize before the coworker who was at risk even had another shift scheduled.

And I had a coworker who seemed to hate my guts for months, and it’s not like he seeks me out to hang out now, but he’ll start an occasional respectful conversation with me because at a meeting with our union rep I said his name several times in a list of people I knew were being denied an earned promotions. (Context: People were doing all of the job duties of those promotions, without being acknowledge with the appropriate title and pay.) I didn’t say it because I liked him, I said it because we’re a union and because I did care about the guy’s livelihood.

This isn’t saying do what I do or enjoy what I enjoy socially or tick how I tick, this is just. Storytelling. Vague, anonymous storytelling.

Work is a place where I know when my coworker is expecting a new baby, and I know when my coworker took time off to attend a funeral, and I know when my coworker’s last name changes because they’ve gotten married, and I know when they’re out sick. We are so in each other’s lives. Corporate “we are a family” is in service of loyalty to the company and is bs. But being in community and solidarity with my coworkers as huge. I don’t know my next door neighbors very well. But my coworkers have me. I’ve got them.

i need everyone to know that community is what will save us all in every single way imaginable. you forming a bond with your neighbour or coworker might help them move house or feel less alone or have the courage to leave an unhealthy living environment. you helping a stranger might provide them with hope. in turn, being able to lean on your community in times of need will save you. your broader bonds with your community are the revolution we need. our society seeks to divide and separate us in so many ways but we are all so much more united in our struggles and joys than you are made to believe. we need to hold onto each other very tightly.

[honeylief]

Hey, sharing my first one shot of Raph x Emmy! They're also on my A03 I recently got an account for! Feel free to leave any thoughts on them and my writing, thank you <33

For a Slice of Cake by Honey_Lief - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) https://archiveofourown.org/works/60323023 via @ao3org

For a Slice of Cake

The day had been long in the tooth and the two finally aligned in time together with a whole weekend to look forward to. Superhero movie marathon. Pantry full of snacks. Chinese takeout leftovers for dinnertime. Nighttime reading for lightweight and heavyweight divisions. It felt good to have an apartment space meant for couples only fun. Very vanilla. Very routine.

Nothing ever stayed truly routine with these two however.

"Raph, you know I can't handle it when you use the tickle jitsu! Get away from me!"

Emmy tried to make a break for the next room over, only to be yoinked off her feet by her bigger turtle partner. She had her favorite camisole on and sports shorts for maximum flexibility. They weren't much help in escaping her current situation.

Raph playfully pulled her into a one armed grip, his free arm ready to 'attack' her weak points. He had his usual fit on except the ninja wraps. Didn't need them for this slippery target. "How dare you inhale that cake slice like a savage, you miscreant."

Emmy struggled and squirmed like a cat. "Not my fault you're being extra soft and slow on my account. I love when you wait on me like a gentleman, but it makes for fun getting away with anything around you."

At that remark, Raph lifted Emmy over his shoulder in one quick swoop. No amount of hitting and kicking by her fazed him, he'd have a cut on his lip by now if she really wanted to hurt him. With girlfriend secured, he moved her and himself over to their massive couch. This was a heavy investment piece, with enough space and support made for mutant alligator snappers who could pass out anytime of the day.

Raph plopped her on his lap, arms secured around her torso for further grilling. "Well we're not going anywhere until I know for sure it’s all gone. What’re you gonna do about that?"

Emmy fluttered her eyes up at him. "Maybe I still got cake frosting on me if you're lucky. You got the better angle tho to check if I'm really clean."

Big red turtle man keened down on her, his exaggerated fake scowl slowly forming into a cheeky grin. "Raph's gonna mess you up for that talk."

Emmy shuddered as he started cuddling her up. Raph made good on his word and also started playfully poking her to get her giggling. Nothing and nowhere risque, he just really enjoyed her bubbly laughter. How she buried into his chest when she tried to muffle her occasional cackling outbursts. It did help that she gave him a whole cheat sheet, and as they did this more frequently, Emmy was constantly thinking up new strategies so he wasn't having too easy a time figuring her out.

Raph’s usual mode of 'friendly soft giant' was always nice, but she's head over heels for him when he’s a little less restrained in all that he does for her. He had of course voiced wanting to sometimes act on raw muscle, to which Emmy assured him in kind she's a tough cookie who can handle it and like it a little rough.

She can be affectionately rough like him right now.

Would this be an intrusive thought though? She had to know he'd feel it.

**CHOMP**

Raph's eyes flew open to see Emmy really sinking her teeth in on his snout. This feeling wasn't new, but damn she really had been full of little surprises since they started being together. And positively crazier now that they have their own crib.

She didn’t seem to pick up he'd caught onto her literally smitten on him.

"You're biting me?"

Emmy's eyes opened at his question. She regarded him in a state of confusion before the slow realization hit and she let him go slowly. "Haha, oops, when did that happen?"

Raph let her go entirely as he patted a hand over his snout. "You really bit me!"

Emmy put a hand to her mouth. "I didn't draw blood, did I?"

Raph didn’t feel broken skin or anything like it under his fingers. The initial tingle was already gone, but something about that sneak attack still seemed to stick.

"Don't think so. But mind telling me what that was about?"

Emmy averted her eyes as she fidgeted her mask tails. "I don't know. Maybe I read this as a thing turtle partners do with each other."

She continued to fidget as she flustered for the right words. "I thought since we do these clockwork couch cuddles, maybe you would like something with more teeth to it. I really wanna match how much you already give me every time. Adding more to that face value."

Raph's done his share of quick turtle courtship reading and his eyes lit up piecing it together. "Y'mean like the face tapping?"

"Uhm yeah, that." Emmy trailed off before half-heartedly laughing. "Sorry, is the biting… too weird for you?"

Raph seemed to ponder on it, and Emmy felt herself wilting on the spot. Was that stare he was giving her a good or a bad one?

"Now you got me thinking how I wanna try it on you."

Emmy stopped fidgeting. She had half expected this answer, but she hadn’t expected how straightforward he was about wanting to try. "Wait, really?"

Raph shrugged. "I mean, between the four of us knucklehead brothers, I lost count how many times we bit each other over anything. Dad had to carry a newspaper or swatter so we'd let go. Just never thought to try it on someone who ain't family, and not that way."

That way. Emmy's face rapidly turned red at the scenarios in her head, and Raph hastily amended extra assurance with shaking arm motions.

"If you're okay with it first of course!"

"Oh. Ohhhh," Emmy struggled on followup. "U-Um, Raph, know that I do trust you with my life, you have a winning smile 24/7, you're the best at kissing me head to toe. I would be lying tho if I wasn't a little nervous about bites from you. And uh…"

Raph didn’t look away as he intently hung to her every word. "I’m listening."

"I really am sorry I sprung that on you," Emmy blushed as she tucked in on herself. "I wanted to be grand about giving back as much as you give me. I still sometimes feel I'm all take and no give with you, even with all the tricks I pull. I can't swing you around the way you’re always doing it with me. I'm never enough in my head."

It was all Raph could do to hug her on the spot, but maybe Emmy needed to be held differently here. She was so so much more than her size, physical or other.

He reached for her hands. "You’re enough for me. Maybe it would be nice for Raph to be held or carried in bigger arms, sure." He proceeded to lean over so their heads touched. "But then I know I’d have to give up how we butt heads like this, the eyes and small hands that see/take care of little scratches on my back, a shell size just right for my head to rest on. I wouldn’t trade those away for anything."

He gave her hands a firm squeeze. "You being in Raph's life like this? All the biggest experience he could ever want. All you gotta know. You’ll always be enough, bonita."

His girlfriend snickered at the left field pet name. "You've secretly been word training!"

Raph smirked. "That’s what you get loving a ninja turtle who's stupid dedicated to any training."

Emmy visibly relaxed at his word play and found her smile again. "Yeah, okay. I’m down for it now. But can we start small?"

"Absolutely," Raph guided her hands so they cupped his face. "Wanna give me a dental once over first?"

Emmy giggled as she did a quick glance over of him, Raph’s head completely rested in her hands. She idly rubbed her thumbs on him as he slowly bared his teeth. He really did take immaculate care of his pearly whites since he was finally off the corrective braces. Emmy and him both were so glad he got to keep his signature snaggletooth look. Up close, it was hard to believe his set of intimidating chompers was capable of saying the sweetest things and mostly free of meanness.

"Looking and smelling like minty fresh breeze to me, big fella."

Raph shut his lid. He looked quite pleased with himself. "Thank you, I try."

Emmy squished his cheeks together. "I bet you a dollar you're more excited about this than I am."

His smile only got wider and toothier at her assumption. "How would you like to be treated, my queen?"

Raph’s eyes didn’t leave her, and he also didn’t move as Emmy had him wait. Her hands eventually pulled away from his loosened grip. She laid down on the sofa, with only her head propped up against an arm rest. Her thighs and arms folded towards herself. She looked back up at him before making both a face and a noise that can only be described as impish–and inviting.

"Come here and mess me up, 'good boy'."

At 'good boy', Raph felt electric. He silently shifted to loom over Emmy topside, right where he wanted her. She looked beyond cute at this angle under him.

"This is entirely your fault for being so dang sweet and saucy, by the way. Close your pretty eyes for Raph."

Emmy did just that, breathing in deep and sinking into the sofa as though she was in a bathtub. His breath felt warm, but also cooling from the lingering menthol. She could feel his scraggly chin dig into the crook of her neck as he sniffed her down. His usual musk of ‘happy’ took hold of her senses. It was a strong earthy smell every time he leaned in this close.

With this new angle to his maw, Emmy could take in the hesitant, cool tongue licks against her skin. She could feel the edge of his snaggletooth glide over her face, a mix of delicate strokes and gentle pressure. It never ceased to amaze her how much deliberate self control he had, his size never a hindrance to his movements. In and out with precision. Ebb and flow that kept her guessing. Completely valid application of master ninja techniques.

Emmy wasn't completely lost at the moment though. She opened one eye to see how much he was enjoying this. Raph once again made off with an idea she got them both into and doing all the work. His scent made it hard to think straight.

"Nnngh, Raphael."

Raph gradually intensified the earlier motions. Hungry. Famished. Emmy quietly grasping for his proper name only goaded him on to keep on giving. Make sure every inch of her face was lovingly caressed the best way his chops could appreciate. She was her own tier of plush softness unlike anything else. Silky smooth cheeks, a ticklish chin, familiar lips that tasted so jazzy fresh without fail.

Maybe he'll save that for last? It was too much fun riling Emmy up now.

Emmy was stiff as a board while Raph nuzzled and nipped. Every time she tried to bite her lower lip, she could feel Raph tug back at it, stopping short of kissing her outright. The nerve. His licks were brief, but eager like a puppy's. And that tongue, he did not disappoint flexing it physically as much as he did with words only meant for her ears. Oh gods. Emmy won't hear the end of it if Raph starts calling her his squeaky toy after this play biting experiment was over.

She wanted so badly to give back as he was giving now. Her hands wanted to cradle his head again. Or arms to loop around his neck. She had to give back now. Reach out. But she was stopped in her tracks when she felt one wrist restrained. Raph also paused his ministrations.

Emmy dared a peek to see her turtle man so focused on her. He looked very determined. She felt her cheeks heating up at his stupidly steely gaze.

"Safe word?"

"No, but–"

"Then let Raph finish."

"Raphael–"

His mouth fell on hers to shut her up and immediately Emmy saw stars with the sudden tongue-to-tongue contact. Both of them sunk completely into the couch. Both her hands were also now pinned under Raph's. Their fingers intertwined in short order. She could really take in the minty mouthwash he was on when he's in this deep. He pressed forward and maintained his pace, his bigger tongue doing all the swirling and savoring movements. Her whole body trembled from all the sensations, and it took a bit of time to compose the big thoughts.

He was her everything right here and now. Or she was everything to him? It made her heart race and belly flutter in butterflies at both thoughts.

If he wasn't gonna let her touch, she's gonna make this kiss something he won't soon forget in other ways. She had to. But how to without her hands?

Raph eventually pulled away without warning and it sent Emmy reeling on the exit. His mouth didn’t really leave her for long however, as she soon realized.

He went back in with renewed determination, alternating between the teeth grazing, small kisses and nibbles all over her pretty face. Her exposed neck and shoulders were lovingly attended to in the same manner. He felt Emmy go a little limp at his hurried onslaught. She'd completely given up on form, reduced to making small tickled noises or slurred, churring words on how good he was doing. How he was too good to her. How he was always, always a good boy.

One last affectionate nibble to her cute snoot, and Raph returned Em's earlier gesture in full. And a parting gift of a smooch on the same spot for good measure. He let her wrists go, slowly withdrew back to give her breathing space and looked down on her.

She looked like a deer in headlights, blinking dazed and mouth a little hung open.

Despite his work and all the positive affirmation earlier, he needed to hear her feedback loud and clear. "So, how'd I do?"

Emmy was still dazzled in place taking in the last five minutes of everything. "I am never taking your smiles for me for granted ever again."

Raph beamed, even as Emmy got her senses back, crossed her arms and gave him a puffed up pout. "But you didn’t let me bite back either, you monster."

"Cake theft."

Emmy had completely forgotten about her earlier transgression. "Okay, fair."

Raph eventually helped her up so they were both sitting facing each other. "Were you scared at all through it?"

Emmy replayed the moments in her head. "A little, but some fear made it fun. You wanna go back for seconds and take a bigger bite of me right now?"

Raph's face immediately scrunched funny. Conflicted, nervous and redder all at once. "I–"

"Just teasing!" Emmy cheekily stuck her tongue out and pressed a finger to his lips. "We'll train up to that level like always. I promise neither of us are gonna hurt bad with practice. And I know you’re all about serious training, my king."

Raph’s earlier doubts instantly vanished at her assured words. Emmy quickly scooted up and planted a kiss to his cheek. "To my amazing and wonderfully talented boyfriend. I’ll be better about the intimate warnings." He churred at her show of affection. "Mmm. Sounds good to me."

It felt bizarre to be grounded again after what just happened. It took a bit, sorting out all the thoughts, but Raph finally remembered what started it all.

"Thank you for being you, Em. Forget the bet, but I really am hungry for sweets."

[ghostlightfic]

hi!!! i just wanted to say im really happy with how youre treating intrusive thoughts in this. i have intrusive thoughts myself (albeit from ocd) and they get pretty violent sometimes. i haven't seen much media that talks about intrusive thoughts at all, but i really do like how loop's are treated :).

THANK YOU!! i do my best!! i'm glad i'm doing a good job 😌

[pinkcadillaccas]

Blog that I really liked really suddenly got into wincest and that I simply cannot abide by

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[chosok-amo]

YOU AND YOUR INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS? 100 TIMES NEED A THERAPIST: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you and all of your disturbing intrusive thoughts definitely need a therapist because it scared the shit out of your boyfriends.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, disturbing intrusive thoughts, self-harm mentioned.

wc. 9,2k | m.list

if you know callmekris you definitely know where this idea is coming from and also, i have like 30 drafts for satosugu fiction only and almost 70+ for others 🥹

it was one of those rare evenings where everything just felt right. you were in the kitchen with your two boyfriends, geto and gojo. the quiet hum of the evening surrounded you, and the soft clinking of cups and papers was the only sound that filled the room. you sat on the dinner chair at the edge of the rectangular table, absentmindedly folding paper into tiny stars.

geto was nearby, nursing a cup of coffee while going through his paperwork, his expression focused but relaxed. across from him, gojo was busy typing away on his laptop, his brows furrowed slightly as he concentrated. the place was calm, a comforting quiet wrapping around the three of you like a soft blanket.

you glanced at your boyfriends every now and then, watching the way they fell into their own little worlds—geto with his quiet intensity, and gojo with his sharp focus. it was peaceful, and in the silence, there was a sense of unspoken contentment. you kept making your paper stars, feeling a gentle warmth in your chest, knowing that these were the moments that made everything worth it.

gojo wasn't wearing his usual blindfold tonight; instead, he had on his pitch-black sunglasses, which gave him a more relaxed look, although the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes still shone through. geto, on the other hand, had his hair down completely, the long strands flowing freely over his shoulders. he looked different like this, more at ease, dressed in something casual and comfortable—a simple t-shirt and sweatpants instead of his usual jujutsu uniform.

you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, each in their own version of relaxation, completely different from the strong sorcerers the world saw them as. there was something intimate and almost vulnerable about this quiet evening—their guard down, the familiar lines of stress softened on their faces.

geto’s loose hair framed his face, giving him a gentler appearance as he sipped his coffee, occasionally reaching up to brush a few strands back. gojo, sitting there in his sunglasses and dressed down, still had his confident aura, but it felt softer in the warm light of the kitchen. he occasionally peeked over his screen to glance at you and geto, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever he caught your eyes.

the evening continued in comfortable silence, just the three of you in your little bubble of peace. you kept folding paper stars, the repetitive motion calming you as you watched your boyfriends. it was a simple moment, but it was yours, and in that cozy quiet, you felt a contentment that words couldn’t quite capture.

gojo glanced up from his laptop when he realized you’d been unusually quiet for a while. his gaze softened when he saw you, his attention lingering on the sight of you in geto’s shirt, the oversized collar slipping off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of your skin. your hair, cascading loosely over the same shoulder, was held back by a cute pink headband that added a playful touch to your appearance.

he watched as your eyebrows knit together in concentration, completely focused on folding papers into tiny stars. the sight made him smile, a warmth spreading in his chest at the simple yet endearing picture you made. the soft light cast gentle shadows across your face, highlighting the small details—how your lips pressed together in determination, the slight furrow in your brow, and the delicate movements of your fingers as they worked through each fold.

gojo couldn’t resist pointing it out, breaking the comfortable silence with a playful tone. “you’re awfully quiet over there,” he teased lightly, his voice warm with affection. “something on your mind, or just lost in the art of paper folding?”

his comment drew geto’s attention as well, and he glanced up from his paperwork, eyes softening at the sight of you. the moment felt even more complete with both of them noticing you, their quiet admiration and the unspoken bond you all shared filling the room with a deeper sense of comfort.

you glanced up at gojo, your focus breaking as you registered his teasing comment. you gave a small, almost bashful smile, feeling the weight of both their gazes on you. the corners of your lips tugged upward, and you shrugged slightly, the loose collar of geto’s shirt slipping even more off your shoulder, exposing more skin to the warm kitchen light.

“just... making some stars,” you replied softly, your voice matching the quiet calm of the room. you held up one of the finished stars as if to prove your point, the tiny paper creation cradled gently between your fingers. “they’re kind of cute, right?”

you could see the fondness in gojo’s eyes as he watched you, his usual playfulness tinged with a hint of something softer. geto, too, had a small, appreciative smile, the sight of you in his shirt and the little pink headband making his heart swell.

gojo chuckled at your answer, his gaze traveling up and down your form, taking in the details of your outfit, the way geto's shirt hung oversized on your frame, the delicate movement of your fingers holding up the paper star. he found the entire picture endearing, a mixture of adorable and sexy in a way that only you could manage.

“cute is an understatement,” he replied, his voice lower, filled with affection. “you look absolutely adorable, you know that?”

geto chuckled softly at gojo's words, a knowing look in his eyes. his gaze was softer, more intense.as your attention shifted to him, geto felt his heart skip a beat. the sight of you in his shirt, the vulnerability in your expression, the small, almost shy smile playing on your lips—it all made him want to gather you up in his arms and hold you close, never letting go.

but he resisted the urge, settling for a warm smile instead. “he's right,” he agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of possessiveness. “you look incredibly cute, sweetheart.”

you felt your cheeks warm up at their words, a mix of flattery and embarrassment bubbling up inside you. you couldn’t help but smile, a little shy but deeply touched by their sweet compliments. looking at both of them, you caught the way gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief and affection, and the way geto’s gaze held that familiar, gentle intensity that always made you feel so cherished.

“thanks,” you murmured softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers brushing against the collar of geto’s shirt that still hung loosely over your shoulder. you tried to play it off casually, but the warmth in your chest gave away just how much their words meant to you.

you returned your attention to the paper in your hands, letting the comfortable rhythm of folding more stars soothe you. you could feel their lingering gazes, their silent admiration wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. it was a quiet reassurance that they were there, appreciating these small, quiet moments just as much as you did.

after a moment, they both gave you one last fond smile before shifting their focus back to their work—geto back to his paperwork, and gojo to his laptop. the quiet of the kitchen returned, but it was filled with a warmth and understanding that made the space feel even more like home. and as you continued making your paper stars, you felt a soft, unspoken connection with them, the kind that didn’t need any words to be felt.

gojo and geto returned to their work, but their gazes kept wandering back to you every few minutes. they worked in silence, the only sound the soft rustling of papers and the occasional tapping of keys on a laptop.

every time they looked at you, a sense of contentment filled their chests. the sight of you in geto's shirt, concentrating on making your paper stars, reminded them of how lucky they were. they both loved these moments of domesticity, no matter how brief, and they wouldn't trade them for anything.

after a comfortable moment of silence, you realized you’d run out of paper. you got up from your seat, making your way over to the counter where the scissors were kept. as you moved, geto’s eyes followed you, quietly observing every step you took, though he didn’t say anything. gojo, meanwhile, stayed focused on his laptop, seemingly immersed in whatever he was working on.

returning to your seat with the scissors in hand, you settled back into your spot and began cutting more paper to make stars. but as you started cutting, you found yourself pausing, staring at the scissors a little too long. without realizing it, you began making small, repetitive snipping motions in the air, almost like you were lost in thought or cutting something invisible.

geto watched you closely, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the way you seemed fixated on the scissors. he didn’t say anything at first, just observing with a quiet intensity. the way you moved, the look in your eyes—it all piqued his curiosity and concern, even if just for a brief moment.

“you okay?” geto finally asked, his voice gentle but with a slight edge of protectiveness. his question pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, looking up at him with a small, sheepish smile.

gojo looked up from his work instantly, the concern in geto's voice catching his attention. his eyes focused on you, his usual playfulness replaced by a hint of worry. he could feel the shift in geto's demeanor, the slight edge in his voice. it was subtle, but gojo knew him too well to miss it.

he watched you intently, his eyes flicking between you and the scissors in your hand. the small, repetitive motions you were making gave him pause, and he couldn't help but wonder what was on your mind.

you noticed the sudden shift in the room, the way both geto and gojo's attention zeroed in on you. gojo’s usually playful expression had softened into something more serious, and geto’s concern was palpable, his eyes fixed on you with a quiet intensity. you could feel the weight of their gazes, and it almost made you want to laugh at how quickly their moods changed just from your little distraction.

catching the worry in their eyes, you gave a soft, almost amused smile as you held the scissors up slightly, pointing them in front of your face. “you know,” you started casually, your tone light but tinged with that familiar edge of mischief. “it’s kinda easy to just… snip the tip of your nose off.”

you demonstrated with a small, precise snip in the air, mimicking the motion as if it were the most normal thing in the world. you watched as their eyes widened just a fraction, geto’s lips pressing into a thin line and gojo’s brows shooting up, both of them clearly thrown off by your unexpected comment.

gojo was the first to recover, a small scoff of disbelief slipping past his lips. he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head in a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“what the hell, sweetheart?” he teased, the edge of worry melting away as he gave you a light-hearted glare. “trying to give us a heart attack?”

geto’s reaction was a little different. his eyes widened further, a slight flash of panic crossing his features before he schooled his expression back into a more controlled one. he took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly.

there was a beat of silence, and then you couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “relax, i’m not actually gonna do it,” you reassured them, the amusement in your voice a gentle attempt to ease the tension. “just got caught up in my head for a second.”

gojo let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as the tension eased from his frame. his eyes still held a hint of worry, but the playful glint had returned, his usual charming smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“you know, giving us a heart attack like that isn't funny, sweetheart. w-why, why?”

geto, on the other hand, didn't seem as easily swayed. he eyed you carefully, his gaze holding a hint of protectiveness and concern. he didn't say anything, his jaw clenching slightly as he seemed to be deep in thought.

you shrugged casually, not really looking up as you fiddled with the paper in your hands. “i don’t know… maybe intrusive thoughts?” you replied, your tone light, almost like you were asking a question yourself. your expression stayed nonchalant, as if the whole thing was no big deal, a small smile playing on your lips to brush off their concern.

gojo raised an eyebrow at your answer, his gaze narrowing slightly. he knew you well enough to sense something was off, something you were hiding behind the casual facade.

“intrusive thoughts, huh?” he repeated, his voice a mix of curiosity and suspicion. he watched you closely, trying to decipher what you were really thinking.

geto, meanwhile, leaned forward, his gaze intense. he took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking, his voice soft yet firm.

“tell us the truth, sweetheart. are you...having those thoughts again?"

you nodded, keeping your expression neutral as you continued to fold the paper, acting as if it was the most mundane thing in the world. “yeah, pretty much… with everything,” you said, your tone casual, like you were talking about the weather rather than admitting to something serious. you didn’t meet their eyes, just kept your focus on the task in front of you, pretending it didn’t weigh on you as much as it really did.

gojo’s playful demeanor faded almost instantly, replaced by a look of genuine concern. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving your face. he could tell you were trying to downplay it, but the casual way you brushed it off only made his worry deepen.

“really, with everything?” he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with a mix of confusion and concern. he was trying to understand the extent of what you were feeling, hoping to grasp how far these intrusive thoughts had gone. “what about the sink?”

he watched you intently, his gaze searching yours for any hint of what might be going on in your head. geto, meanwhile, sat quietly, his jaw clenched as he processed your response. his eyes stayed on you, unwavering and filled with that familiar protectiveness.

you snorted softly, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you looked up at gojo, trying to keep the mood light despite the heaviness of the conversation. “easy,” you replied, your tone nonchalant as you shrugged. “just put your hand in the carburetor and flip the switch.”

you said it like it was nothing, like you were talking about some everyday task, all while avoiding the deeper implications of your words. you kept your focus on the paper in your hands, folding it with practiced ease, acting as if the conversation was just casual banter, though you could feel the weight of their concerned stares on you.

gojo's heart sank at your response. the mention of the carburetor was a clear indication that your thoughts had taken a dark turn, and he couldn't help but worry about what else you might be thinking about.

he exchanged a look with geto, their expressions mirroring the same concern and confusion. gojo's mouth opened to speak, but before he could, geto beat him to it.

“and what else?” geto's voice was firm, but there was an undertone of worry in it. he wanted to know, needed to know, how far these intrusive thoughts had gone.

“what about the water bottle?” gojo ask.

you raised your eyebrows, a faint, almost resigned smile crossing your lips as you reached for the water bottle. you took a slow sip, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you spoke.

“well,” you said casually, setting the bottle down and looking at them, “while you’re drinking it, I’d just punch it into your mouth.”

you said it with a shrug, your tone still light, though the gravity of your words wasn’t lost on either of them. you continued to fold your paper stars.

gojo's eyes widened, his stomach twisting at the casually spoken words. he could see the resignation in your expression, and it only made his worry deepen. he didn't know what to say, didn't know how to process what you were telling them.

geto's jaw tightened, his eyes sharpening as he absorbed your words. he could feel his heart aching, a mix of fear and protectiveness overwhelming him. he wanted to grab you, to pull you away from these dark thoughts, but he knew he had to hear the rest first.

“the countertop?” he asked softly.

you scoffed, a faint hint of frustration creeping into your voice as you rolled your eyes. “oh, come on,” you said, your tone flippant as if you were explaining something obvious. “you walk, you trip, and bust all your teeth out on the corner of the counter.”

gojo's mouth opened and closed, his usual charm and quick wit faltering in the face of the worry in his chest.

geto, on the other hand, closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. he could feel your irritation, your attempt to brush off the seriousness of what you were saying. he could see the hint of self-deprecation in your expression, the way you dismissed your own safety without a second thought.

“the staircase?” he asked quietly, his voice holding a hint of resignation.

“you trip?” you ask confused.

gojo let out a shaky sigh, shaking his head slightly at the nonchalant tone of your response. he had to admit, you seemed remarkably casual about the dark nature of your thoughts.

geto, however, wasn’t as easily fooled. he could feel a flicker of frustration at your lack of seriousness.

“and if you didn’t trip?” he asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge as he leaned forward slightly.

you snorted, a brief chuckle escaping as if the whole thing was just a joke. “if you didn’t trip?” you repeated, glancing up at geto with a hint of a smirk. “i’d just push you down the stairs.” you said it with a dry laugh, as if you found it funny, as if it was just another random thought that didn’t matter.

gojo's eyes widened at the nonchalant way you spoke about pushing someone down stairs. he was used to your darker sense of humor, but this was something different, something darker. something that made his stomach twist with worry.

geto, meanwhile, went completely still. his heart clenched at the casual way you mentioned something so violent, and he was having a hard time keeping his composure.

there was a beat of heavy silence, both of them trying to process what you just said.

“darling,” geto finally said, his voice tense but gentle. “that’s...not funny.”

you suddenly dropped the playful facade, your expression turning serious as you cleared your throat, mimicking their concerned tone. “oh, sorry,” you said, your voice deadpan, as if you were genuinely trying to be serious but couldn’t quite commit to it. you held their gaze for a moment, your eyes flicking between geto and gojo, and then you shrugged, the corner of your mouth twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “guess that one didn’t land.”

you went back to folding your paper stars, acting as though the moment had passed, but the tension in the room was still palpable, their worried eyes still on you, not quite convinced by your attempt to brush it all off.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick, uneasy glance. the lightheartedness you were trying to pull off didn’t ease the knot of worry in either of their chests. gojo ran a hand through his hair, his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to keep his cool. he could sense geto’s frustration simmering just beneath the surface, the way his jaw was set tight, his eyes fixed on you with that mix of protectiveness and concern that was impossible to miss.

geto leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. his gaze softened, but the edge didn’t fully disappear. he was searching for a way to reach you, to cut through the nonchalance and get to the root of what you were really feeling. his lips parted, as if he wanted to say something more, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

gojo, picking up on the hesitation, decided to keep pushing, hoping that maybe humor would get you to open up more. he tilted his head, his eyes still focused on you, the hint of a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “okay, the hard one,” he said, trying to keep his tone light but there was a serious undertone to his voice. “what about the pillow?”

both of them waited, holding their breaths slightly, hoping that maybe this time, you’d let them in a little more.

you looked up at them, rolling your eyes with a dismissive wave of your hand. “oh, please,” you scoffed, barely missing a beat. “two words: suffocation device.” you said it so casually, almost like it was a punchline to a joke only you found amusing. you quickly returned to folding another paper star, like you hadn’t just dropped another dark thought into the conversation.

both gojo and geto’s eyes widened at your response. gojo’s stomach twisted at the nonchalant way you spoke of such a dark thing. his usual charming smile faltered, replaced by a look of true concern. he knew you had a dark sense of humor, but this… this was something different. something that made his heart ache to hear coming from your lips.

geto’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he processed your words. the protectiveness in him flared, his mind immediately thinking of all the ways he could keep you safe from yourself.

gojo's breath hitched, his voice breaking slightly as he whispered, “wow.” his usually confident demeanor cracked, revealing the worry etched across his face. he ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and concern. he shook his head slowly, struggling to process your words, the weight of your casual tone sinking into him like a stone.

he swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto yours, searching for any hint of how serious you were. “sweetheart,” he asked, his voice soft and trembling, “you have these thoughts… like, every day?” his eyes were pleading, silently begging you to be honest, his breath still uneven as he tried to keep it together, his heart aching at the possibility of you dealing with this daily.

you nodded casually, not breaking your focus on folding yet another paper star. “yeah,” you answered simply, your tone matter-of-fact as if you were discussing something far less serious. your fingers continued to move deftly, folding the paper with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the gravity of your words.

when gojo’s eyes widened and he hesitated, asking quietly, “do you…want to do them?” you couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as if the question itself was absurd. “of course not, i'm not crazy,” you replied with a dismissive snort, shaking your head as though he’d just asked something ridiculous, still maintaining your nonchalant demeanor despite the heavy atmosphere lingering in the room.

geto's expression tightened, his brows furrowing as he listened to your response. the casual way you brushed off gojo’s question didn’t sit right with him. his eyes darkened, filled with a mix of worry and frustration that he was trying hard to keep under control. he leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving you, searching for any crack in your facade.

“but you think about wanting to do them,” geto pressed gently, his voice soft but edged with a quiet intensity. “and… it happening?” his question hung heavy in the air, his eyes boring into yours, trying to understand the depth of your thoughts. he was struggling with the possibility that, despite your dismissive attitude, these intrusive thoughts held more weight than you were letting on. his tone was laced with concern, desperate to reach the part of you that was hurting, to pull you out of the darkness you seemed so intent on brushing off.

you nodded, picking up the scissors with your usual calm demeanor. “exactly,” you said, your voice steady, as if you were confirming something completely mundane. without missing a beat, you positioned the paper and began cutting, your movements precise and controlled. your eyes remained focused on your task, the sharp blades slicing through the paper with ease, seemingly unaware of the rising tension in the room.

you kept your expression neutral, not looking up at either of them, as if to emphasize that, to you, this was just another normal part of your day. it was your way of deflecting, of keeping everything surface level, even when the concern in their eyes spoke volumes. you didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate, just continued cutting, fully immersed in your routine despite the weight of the conversation hanging heavily between you all.

gojo’s heart ached at your confirmation, the casual way you admitted to having such dark thoughts. he clenched his jaw tight, his hands curling into fists, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill out. his eyes were wide, searching your face, seeking any hint of anything more than the nonchalant façade you were presenting.

geto, on the other hand, was barely containing his frustration. his eyes darkened as he saw the cutting, the way you just kept going, as if these thoughts were nothing more than background noise. his muscles were tense, his body rigid as he fought to keep his hands from shaking. his gaze flicked between you and the scissors, the sound of the blades slicing through the paper setting his teeth on edge.

“stop,” he said firmly, his voice hoarse and tight. “put the scissors down.”

his heart was beating wildly in his chest, his mind cycling through all the different ways he could keep you safe at that moment, his protective instincts on overdrive. you paused mid-cut, your expression one of confusion as you looked up at geto. the firm command in his voice took you by surprise, making you blink slowly as you tried to understand his sudden urgency.

“huh?” you said, furrowing your brows slightly. you set the scissors down slowly, your eyes shifting between geto and gojo, both of whom were now visibly tense. “what’s the matter?” you asked, your tone still carrying that hint of casual indifference, but now mixed with genuine confusion. you didn’t fully grasp why they were reacting so strongly, still caught off guard by the intensity of their concern.

gojo took a shuddering breath, his eyes never leaving yours. his heart was racing, his hands trembling as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

geto, meanwhile, was bristling with tension. his jaw was clenched tight, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your casual tone, the way you seemed to be brushing off the gravity of the situation. he couldn't believe, even with everything you'd just said, you were still acting so nonchalant about it all.

“the matter...?” he repeated, his voice tight. “you just admitted to having intrusive thoughts about hurting yourself!”

they exchanged another look, a mixture of worry and helplessness passing between them. “sweetheart,” gojo's voice was soft, his usually confident demeanor slipping momentarily. “is... is it always like this?”

you nodded, the weight of their concern finally starting to sink in. “yeah,” you said softly, your voice carrying a trace of vulnerability you hadn’t shown before. “pretty much since ever.”

you met their eyes, the casual facade slipping away as the depth of your feelings became more apparent. you could see the worry etched into their faces, the genuine fear and concern that had replaced the playful interactions you were used to. the seriousness of the situation was starting to hit you, and you realized just how much your nonchalance had masked the gravity of what you were dealing with.

gojo's stomach twisted at your admission, a wave of guilt washing over him. how had he not seen it before? how had he missed how much you were struggling, all this time? his heart ached at the thought of you dealing with such dark thoughts alone, acting so casually about it when it was obvious how much it was affecting you.

geto's eyes softened further. his protective instincts were flaring again, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. he wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms, to shield you from all the pain you were carrying around.

but they both knew that addressing it needed to be done carefully. they didn't want to make things worse. gojo took a cautious step towards you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, desperately trying to keep himself in check. “sweetheart... have you ever... tried anything?”

as the question left his lips, he hated himself for even asking, the mere thought of you harming yourself making his stomach twist into knots.

you shook your head quickly, the denial almost instinctive. “no,” you said firmly, your voice a mix of reassurance and frustration. “i haven’t tried anything. i’m not crazy, okay? i mean, at least not something that will hurt me.”

as geto carefully took the scissors away from you and sat beside you. gojo approached slowly, his expression softening with concern as he settled next to you as well.

you could see the worry in their eyes, and their presence was comforting yet overwhelming. you tried to meet their gaze, wanting them to understand that, despite your dark thoughts, you weren’t acting on them. you wanted to keep the conversation open and honest, hoping that by addressing it, you could find a way to ease their concerns and, perhaps, your own.

their relief at your immediate denial was palpable, but it was clear that neither of them wanted to take any chances. gojo's eyes softened further as he moved to sit next to you, his hand instinctively reaching out to take yours.

geto nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your reassurance, but he couldn't shake off the lingering concern. his eyes were fixed on you, his fingers twitching subtly, as if resisting the urge to just protectively grab you and hold you close. “but,” gojo began cautiously, his grip on your hand tightening, “why haven't you tried anything?”

geto’s eyes widened in shock at gojo’s question, and he didn’t hesitate to react. In one swift motion, he smacked gojo’s head, his frustration evident. “don’t encourage her, you fucking idiot!” he snapped, his voice a mixture of anger and exasperation.

he turned back to you, his eyes softening as he tried to counterbalance the unintended provocation. “ignore him,” he said more gently, his tone filled with concern. “we just want to understand what’s going on, but we don’t want to make things worse. we’re here for you, okay?”

he leaned closer, his protective instincts flaring up as he tried to offer comfort while grappling with his own frustration at the situation.

gojo winced at the smack, rubbing the back of his head slightly, more out of hurt than actually pain. he looked sheepish, realizing his mistake. “oops...” he muttered, shooting geto a sheepish smile. “sorry, i didn't mean—”

he paused as geto spoke, his eyes darting back to you, a mix of shame and worry in his gaze. he was silently cursing himself, knowing he had messed up. “yeah,” he said softly, “ignore me, sweetheart, i'm a moron.“

you let out a soft laugh, the sound a gentle counterpoint to the tension in the room. you couldn’t help but find gojo’s sheepish expression amusing, his self-deprecating comment breaking through the heaviness of the conversation.

geto relaxed slightly as he heard your laugh, the sound a warm but unexpected surprise in the tensed atmosphere. he shot gojo a sidelong glance, his expression a mixture of relief and mild annoyance.

gojo sighed heavily, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “i guess i still have my comedic timing, even when my brain-to-mouth filter fails me.” he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting between you and geto, silently pleading for forgiveness.

geto rolled his eyes at gojo’s attempt at a joke, clearly not amused by his antics. “you're an idiot,” he said bluntly, but there was no malice in his voice. he shot a quick glance at you, checking your reaction to the lighter tone.

gojo tried his best to look remorseful, but his gaze quickly flicked to yours, seeking to gauge your response to their exchange. his hand unconsciously squeezed yours tighter, a silent request for reassurance.

“anyway,” gojo continued, his voice taking on a serious tone again. “i'm sorry, sweetheart. i shouldn't have asked that. i don't want to put any ideas in your head. i just...” he trailed off, swallowing hard as his grip on your hand tightened slightly. “i just... you scared us, yknow?”

geto nodded in agreement, his expression still serious as he added, “yeah, sweetheart. you can't just downplay this stuff. it...”

his voice caught in his throat for a moment, the fear he felt at your casual attitude still lingering clearly in his eyes. “it terrifies us,” he admitted quietly, his free hand clenching into a fist, desperately holding onto his composure.

you reached out gently, cupping geto’s cheek with a tender touch. your gaze softened as you looked into his eyes, trying to convey the sincerity of your feelings. “i get it,” you said softly. “just because i think about stuff doesn’t mean i want to do it. i’m not struggling, really. it’s just... something that crosses my mind for a second, and then it’s gone. i can barely even remember it afterwards.”

you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the fear and worry etched on his face. “i appreciate how much you care, and i promise, i’m okay. it’s more like a fleeting thought that doesn’t stick around.”

you looked at gojo, giving him a similar reassuring smile, wanting them both to understand that, despite your dark thoughts, you weren’t in immediate danger and that their concern meant a lot to you.

geto's eyes softened at your touch, some of the tension in his muscles relaxing as he looked into your eyes. his expression was still serious, but there was a hint of relief in his gaze. he knew you were trying to reassure him, and he appreciated it, even if his worry wasn't abating completely.

gojo nodded silently, echoing geto's relief. his grip on your hand relaxed a little, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, a small gesture of comfort.

“sweetheart...” he began, his voice unusually hesitant.

you cut in before gojo could continue, your tone light but carrying a hint of seriousness. “it’s kind of like how satoru think about blowing up the entire higher-ups and the school sometimes,” you said, glancing at geto with a teasing yet understanding smile. “or how you imagine killing everyone up but never actually do it.”

your eyes then shifted to gojo, the warmth in your gaze continuing. “it’s just a thought that crosses my mind, not something I’m planning to act on. I’m not going to hurt myself or anyone else. It’s just... there, and then it’s gone.”

you hoped this analogy would help them see that, despite the dark nature of your thoughts, they were fleeting and not reflective of your true intentions. gojo blinked, surprised at your casual mention of his own violent thoughts. he chuckled softly, a mix of surprise and relief in his expression.

geto's lips quirked into a small smile at your analogy. it clicked for him, your words making more sense in that context. he could see the parallel you were drawing between gojo's fantasies of destruction and your own dark thoughts.

“yeah,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter. “that's a good way to explain it... but....”

geto let out a shuddering breath as you assured them of your safety, visibly relaxing at your words. “sweetheart, you don't understand,” he said softly, “we... it's not just that we're worried about you acting on those thoughts. even having them in the first place...”

he paused, his hand trembling slightly in yours. “it's... it's not normal, sweetheart. it's not normal to have thoughts about hurting yourself all the time. it's concerning, no matter how much you try to downplay it.”

gojo nodded fervently in agreement, his grip on your hand now almost protective, his eyes filled with concern. “yeah,” he echoed quietly, “you can't just brush it off like it's nothing. sweetie, it's not... it's not right, to be thinking about stuff like that all the time.“

geto leaned in closer, his own hand still holding yours gently, “please, sweetheart, understand that we're not just worried about you doing something you'll regret. we're worried about the fact that you even think about it at all.”

they both exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of worry and helplessness. they wanted more than anything to take away the darkness in your mind, the shadows that haunted your thoughts. but they knew it wasn't that simple. gojo spoke up again, his voice hesitant but sincere. “we're not trying to shame you or make you feel bad about it. we just...”

geto cut him off, unable to contain his own concern any longer. “we just want you to be healthy. mentally, emotionally, physically. and those thoughts... they're not a part of being healthy, sweetheart.”

you let out a deep sigh, the weight of their words settling heavily on your shoulders. you looked at them both, a mix of resignation and confusion in your eyes. “so, what do you want me to do?” you asked, your voice soft and tired. “i’m not sure what you expect from me right now. I don’t want to worry you, but these thoughts are just part of how my mind works sometimes.”

you searched their faces for guidance, hoping they could help you find a way to navigate through these thoughts while still feeling understood and supported.

gojo's expression softened even further at your question. he squeezed your hand reassuringly, silently pleading with you to understand that they were only trying to help.

“we're not expecting you to change overnight,” he said quietly. “we just... we want you to know that it's okay to talk about these thoughts. to tell us when they're there.”

geto nodded in agreement, his own expression filled with empathy. “we're not asking you to pretend they don't exist. we just want you to share the burden, sweetheart.”

“you don't have to go through it alone,” he added quietly. “we want to support you, to help you carry the weight of those thoughts when they're too heavy for you to handle.”

gojo nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “we're here when you need to talk, no matter how dark or intrusive those thoughts are. we're not going to judge you, or think you're crazy. we just want to be there for you.”

you looked at them both with a mixture of gratitude and calm acceptance. “i know that,” you said softly, your voice steady. “that’s why i’m not scared of my own thoughts. i’m aware they’re there, but i also know you’re always here for me. you’re the ones who would stop anything that might hurt me.”

you gave them both a reassuring smile, the weight of their concern grounding you. “it’s comforting to know that I’m not alone in this. i appreciate everything you do for me, and it helps more than you realize.”

you squeezed their hands gently, hoping to convey your appreciation and the deep sense of security you felt with them by your side.

gojo's grip on your hand strengthened, the tightness of his expression fading slightly. he could see that though you still harbored those dark thoughts, the reassurance of their support was helping to give you some measure of comfort.

geto's shoulders relaxed slightly as well. he had been so tense with worry, but your words and touch were like a soothing balm, soothing his anxiety and making him feel a little less helpless.

gojo spoke up again, his voice soft as he searched your gaze. "do you promise us something, sweetie?"

you looked at gojo with a mix of curiosity and warmth, sensing the sincerity in his voice. “what is it?” you asked gently, your gaze steady and attentive, ready to listen to whatever he needed from you.

gojo squeezed your hand a little tighter, his expression serious. "promise us you'll come to us whenever those thoughts get too loud, okay? we don't want you to suffer in silence, even if it means waking us up in the middle of the night."

geto nodded, his own eyes imploring. "yeah, sweetheart," he added, his voice soft but firm. "we want to be there for you, and we can't do that if you keep it all internalized."

you looked at them, your eyes shimmering with gratitude and warmth. a soft, genuine smile spread across your face as you took in their earnest concern. the depth of their care touched you deeply, more than words could convey. it was one thing to understand that everyone had intrusive thoughts, but their level of concern for your well-being and mental health was profoundly comforting.

you nodded slowly, the smile on your lips growing. “okay,” you said softly, your voice steady. “i promise. if it gets too much, i’ll come to you. i won’t keep it to myself.”

you reached out, gently squeezing their hands in return, letting them feel the sincerity of your promise. “thank you for caring so much,” you added, your voice filled with emotion. “it means a lot to me, more than you know.”

gojo exhaled a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding, his expression visibly relaxing at your promise. he could see the determination in your eyes, the assurance that you would reach out to them when needed.

geto's shoulders eased further, the tension draining from his body as well. he smiled softly, his grip on your hand tight but affectionate.

"we care about you, sweetheart," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "you're so important to us. we just... we want you to be happy and healthy, in every way possible."

gojo's gaze softened as he looked at you, a mixture of hope and concern in his eyes. he shifted slightly, his fingers still gently holding yours. “sweetheart,” he began cautiously, “are you open to the idea of going to therapy? it might help to talk to a professional about these thoughts and feelings.”

geto nodded in agreement, his expression serious but compassionate. “yeah, therapy can be really beneficial,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting the same hope and concern as gojo’s. “it’s a safe space to work through everything and get the support you need. we’re here for you, but having a professional to talk to could really help. we just want you to be as healthy and happy as possible.”

you looked at them with a gentle smile, your eyes softening as you asked, “if i go to therapy, will you both be less worried about me? will it make you happy to know i’m getting help?”

you were genuinely seeking their reassurance, hoping that taking this step might ease their concern and show them that you were taking their worries seriously.

gojo was taken aback by your question, his expression filled with surprise. he had been expecting you to protest, to resist the idea of therapy, but your openness surprised him.

geto's expression mirrored gojo's surprise, but his eyes brimmed with relief and gratitude. "yes, sweetheart," he said, his voice gentle and sincere. "we would be so happy and relieved if you went to therapy. it would make us feel better to know that you're getting the support and help you need. it's not that we don't trust you, but it's... it's about your well-being."

you nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face as you squeezed their hands gently. “okay, then,” you said softly. “i’m willing to give it a try. if it helps you both feel better and supports me, then it’s worth it.”

gojo's face visibly relaxed at your words, the tension in his shoulders easing. he smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with relief and gratitude.

geto's expression mirrored gojo's, and his grip on your hand tightened slightly with affection. "thank you, sweetheart," he said softly. "this means a lot to us. we just want what's best for you, and we're so glad you're willing to give therapy a chance."

you didn't really feel like you needed therapy, but seeing how much it meant to gojo and geto made you reconsider. if that was what it took to ease their worries and show them that you were taking their concerns seriously, then you were willing to give it a try. their happiness and peace of mind mattered a lot to you, and you were ready to take this step for them.

you smiled warmly at their reactions, feeling a swell of affection for them. “i know,” you said softly, “and i appreciate you both being so understanding and supportive. i’ll make sure to take this step seriously.”

you could see the relief and happiness in their expressions, and it made you feel a deep sense of connection and gratitude. gojo's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with gratitude and relief. he gently squeezed your hand in return, his grip firm and comforting.

geto's expression mirrored gojo's, and he gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, a gesture of reassurance. "we're so glad you're open to it, sweetheart," he said softly. "just keep in mind, not every therapist is a perfect fit. if the first one doesn't feel right, don't be afraid to try someone else. therapy is supposed to be a place where you feel safe and understood."

gojo's eyes lit up with a warm, reassuring glint. “we’ll find the perfect therapist for you together,” he said, his voice brimming with determination. “and don’t worry about the cost. we’ll cover it. you deserve the best support, and if that means getting a pricey therapist, then that’s what we’ll do.” he squeezed your hand gently, his smile unwavering, showing just how committed he was to making sure you got the help you needed.

geto nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting the same determination and commitment as gojo. "yeah," he said softly, his voice filled with unwavering certainty. "money is not a concern when it comes to your well-being, sweetheart. we'll make sure you have the best therapist possible, even if it means paying more. your happiness and health are worth every penny."

you chuckled softly, feeling a warm, affectionate glow at their insistence. you nodded again, your smile genuine. “alright, baby, alright,” you said, your tone tender and playful. leaning in, you pressed gentle kisses to both of their cheeks, the gesture filled with gratitude and love. it was your way of showing just how much their support meant to you.

both gojo and geto's faces flushed a little in response to your tender kisses, their eyes sparkling with affection and appreciation. they smiled warmly at your gesture, their cheeks still slightly warm from the touch of your lips.

gojo chuckled softly at your response, his expression affectionate and adoring. “we just want to make sure you have all the support and care you need, sweetheart,” he said, the determination in his voice replaced with tenderness and warmth.

geto nodded in agreement, his own expression softly mirroring gojo's. “we'll do everything we can to make sure you're happy and healthy,”

you smiled warmly at their heartfelt words, feeling deeply touched by their commitment and care. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. you nodded, your smile widening as you added, “i really appreciate everything you're doing for me. i'm happy,” your eyes sparkled with affection as you leaned in to rest your head gently against geto's shoulders, savoring the comfort of their support as your hands entertwined with theirs.

both gojo and geto felt their hearts tighten a little at your words, their commitment to your well-being strengthened by the obvious affection in your eyes. they smiled warmly in return, their own expressions reflecting the same genuine gratitude.

gojo reached up, gently stroking your hair as you leaned against geto, his touch gentle and reassuring. geto's arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his side as he felt the weight of your head against his shoulder.

gojo's eyes softened with a playful glint as he looked down at you, a tender smile on his lips. “how about we take a break from all this and go on a date tomorrow?” he asked, his voice light and inviting. he leaned in to kiss your hand gently, his touch warm and affectionate. “let's ditch the teaching for a day and just focus on us. what do you say?” he looks at you and geto for a second before back to you.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and agreement. “yeah,” he said, his tone light yet teasing, “a little break from all this academic nonsense wouldn't hurt. let's go on a date tomorrow, just the three of us.”

he glanced at gojo, a sly smile playing on his lips. “and if there's any teaching involved, it better be about the art of seduction, not mathematics or jujutsu.”

“what do you think, sweetheart?” gojo reached out and gently took your other hand, his grip firm and affectionate.

he chuckled softly, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and excitement. “yeah, a break from teaching and jujutsu is long overdue,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

“we'll take the day off and focus on nothing but you,” he continued, his gaze firmly fixed on you, “no students, no curses, just us and a day of fun and relaxation.” geto nodded in agreement, his own smile mirroring gojo's. “sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice warm and affectionate, “a day of pampering and affection, just the three of us.”

you snorted at their playful banter, a giggle escaping your lips as you nodded in agreement. “i like it,” you said, a bright smile on your face. you squeezed their hands gently, feeling the warmth of their affection and the excitement for the upcoming date. “i'm looking forward to it,” you added, your eyes sparkling with anticipation.

both gojo and geto chuckled at your reaction, their smiles widening at your agreement. they squeezed your hands in return, their grips firm but affectionate. gojo's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he grinned. “great,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. “we'll plan out the perfect date for you, sweetheart. it'll be a day filled with fun, romance, and lots of attention on you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his own smile mirroring gojo's. “yeah,” he chimed in, his voice warm and affectionate, “no one will be ignoring you tomorrow.”

“we'll make sure you feel loved, appreciated, and the center of our world,” gojo added, his eyes sparkling intently. geto chuckled softly, his tone playful but sincere. “and don't even think about protesting or saying it's not necessary. we're spoiling you tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

you giggled excitedly, scrunching your nose and squealing with delight. “okay, okay!” you said, your excitement is palpable. “i can’t wait! I’m really looking forward to it.”

your happiness and enthusiasm were evident, and both gojo and geto couldn’t help but smile even wider at your reaction. they exchanged pleased glances, their hearts warmed by your joy.

both gojo and geto felt a surge of affection wash over them as they saw your excitement visibly spill out in your giggling and squeals. their expressions softened, a mixture of fondness and tenderness in their eyes.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “you're so cute when you get excited, sweetheart. it makes me even more eager for tomorrow.” geto nodded, his smile mirroring gojo's. “uh-uh,” he agreed, his tone affectionate and lighthearted, “our date is going to be something special, seeing this reaction is already worth every bit of effort.”

gojo reached out and gently poked your side, a playful smirk on his lips. “and we're going to make sure you don't forget this date anytime soon,” he teased, his voice filled with lighthearted mischief.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement at gojo's antics. “yeah,” he said, his tone teasing as well, “we're gonna leave you so spoiled, sweetheart, you'll be begging for more attention.”

gojo chuckled at geto's remark, their banter light and affectionate, “yeah, but tonight is all about relaxation and good company.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze flickering between you and geto with a soft smile. “how about we find a cozy spot and put on a movie? we can order food in and just unwind for the rest of the evening.”

geto nodded in agreement, his expression filled with lighthearted satisfaction. “sounds perfect to me,” he said, his tone relaxed, “a quiet evening at home, just the three of us. i could really use some chill time after the week we've had.“

he turned to you, his eyes glittering amusedly. “what do you say, sweetheart? up for a movie night with takeout and cuddles?” you nodded eagerly, a wide grin on your face. “okay, okay!” you exclaimed, already brimming with excitement. “I’m going to choose the movie!”

you pushed away from the table with a burst of energy, practically bouncing up from your chair. without waiting for a response, you dashed towards the living room, eager to pick out the perfect movie for the cozy night ahead. gojo and geto watched you go with affectionate smiles, their hearts lightened by your enthusiasm.

gojo chuckled softly, his expression filled with affectionate amusement as he watched you dash off towards the living room. his eyes softened as he watched your excited retreat, his heart warm with tenderness.

geto couldn't help but smirk a little, his own gaze following your path with a slight shake of his head. he looked at gojo, a mixture of affection and fondness in his expression. “and there she goes,” he teased light-heartedly, “can barely contain her excitement for a movie and takeout.”

gojo nodded, his own smile widening. “she's adorable,” he said, his voice filled with sincere warmth, “can't blame her, though. we're all in need of some relaxation after this week.“

he got up from his chair, stretching a little as he began following you towards the living room. “we'd better hurry up,” he said, his tone laced with playful urgency, “or she might start the movie without us.”

[the-anime-enthusiast]

MHA CHARACTERS TYPES IN WOMEN

#1 Katsuki Bakugou

KATSUKI BAKUGOU - PHYSICAL

He likes his women tall and strong (with a scary similar demeanor to his mother 😭). I'm talking 5'6 and up, might feel weird about dating someone taller than him, but the more the merrier⁉️ (I also bc he gets to be around 5'10 to 6ft whenever he finally finishes growing) 🙏

He FOR SURE fw chubby girls, like a lifter kind of chubby... Someone strong and with muscle but something on their bones other than skin yk?

For some this is unfortunate, be he would NEVER date a blonde 😭 He thinks it's creepy cuz he feels weird about dating someone blonde considering his mom's blonde too 😭 He wouldn't mind a darker, more honey blonde than anything, though 😌

He LOVES freckles and moles 😈 He questioned his sanity given Izuku has freckles whenever he found out he liked them, but always tries to keep it out of his mind cuz he'll get the heebie-jeebies again 😔 despite the intrusive thoughts, he loves to kiss them and point out how pretty they are everytime he gets the chance 🤗

He def has a thing for strong legs and a nice ass 🌚 BROS FS AN ASS MAN 😭 Loves just hugging you from behind and grabbing it, not even to be a perv it's just comforting in a weird way 😭🙏

He fw hips to 🙏😌 something to squeeze and kiss on when he's yk 😶‍🌫️ "downtown" 😶‍🌫️ following this he likes stretch marks too, rubbing them feeling the difference in texture on your skin 🤧

Going back to the strong legs 🙏 (and a lil on the chubby stuff) HE FW HEAVY ON THICK ANKLES it's so strange to him and makes him question whether he's sane or not, but he loves it. FS the weirdest thing he find attractive 🫡

He also appreciates some skull crushers 😈 Doesn't even have to be all muscles, just something squishy that's too big for his hand to wrap all the way around 😌

LOVES A BROWN EYED BADDIE ‼️ He loves the look of doe eyes staring up at him but the second your face relaxes and you look like a cold stone bitch he twitches a lil 🤭 (if yk what I mean) He can't get the gojo meme out of his head and gets the heebie-jeebies when looking into someone's blue eyes 😭😭 (monoma freaks him out))

KATSUKI BAKUGOU - MENTAL

You know how he didn't hold back on Uraraka? 😈 Yeah, he likes women who can hold their own against him and honestly that's all he asks for. Ofc he has other standards but something about a strong woman who's just as hard headed as him, really gets him going 🌚

Given he's had to calm down since the war, he appreciates a little bit of feist in his partner, but also a side of them that can be sweet and just as doting as he is 🤭

One of the main points of the people he takes interest in, are that they feel safe around him. 🫶He wants someone who will just fall in his arms at the end of a long day ranting on about work into his neck as he just sits there and listens 🌹 (occasionally chiming in on your coworkers you don't like 😈 )...

KATSUKI BAKUGOU - RANDOMS

He fucks with MUSICIANS HEAVVYYYYY 🎸🎶 You gonna bust out the guitar and strum along to his crazy good beats? HELL YEAH‼️ Maybe some bass to back him up? FUCK YEAH‼️ Gonna pull out your own sticks and out drum him?? DOUBLE FUCK YEAH ‼️Maybe even the clarinet to impress his dad? Hell. Motherfucking. Yeah. Any instrument and he's automatically impressed, he's learned from playing the drums just how much dedication and hard work goes into learning so he truly appreciates it 😈

LOVES FOODIES ‼️ "Hey babe I was thinking of trying that new katsu-" "You don't even have to ask" he replied dragging you to the car. He loves when people eat his food and compliment him on it (although he'll never admit it) so a GF WHO DOES THAT? SIGN HIM UP. 🎂

Low-key fucks with shy girls 😉 He loves outgoingness, don't get me wrong, but whenever they're behind closed doors and his gf gets all shy and scared to look into his eyes he practically melts (the thought of knowing that his gf feels the EXACT same way as him makes him puddy in your hands) 😈

PHYSICAL TOUCH ‼️GIFT GIVING ‼️ QUALITY TIME ‼️ HIS WEAKNESSES ‼️‼️When he can't find the words to tell you how he feels he'll use these to his advantage, hugging you from behind kissing your neck, bringing a lil Stuffie home for you when he knows your down, or just sitting in silence with your favorite TV show on 😌🙏 All that matters is that hes close to you or in your arms making you feel good when you otherwise cant 🫶

THAT'S IT THANKYOU BYYEE 🫶🫶

these are some head cannons for da best boi bakugou bc he's been my fav character for 6 years and what better way to celebrate than curate a list of my fav head cannons for him 🫶

(lemme know who I should do next 😉)

OKAY NOW ACTUALLY BYE BYEEE 😍😍

[aemonds-sapphire]

Inexperience

Summary: You have often wondered how it feels to pleasure a man, so you take it up with Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced reader. Friends to lovers (if you squint). Handjob. Masturbation.

Word count: 2k

Part II

“You’re doing it again.”

Aemond’s velvety voice snapped you from your intrusive thoughts state at once.

Inwardly scolding yourself, you shifted your attention back to the embroidery in your hands.

You weren’t being exceptionally subtle when it came to staring at him.

And Aemond’s observational skills were far too perfected for your own good.

“I apologise,” you said quietly.

Even from the corner of your eye you could see an intriguing smile on his lips as he lifted his eye from the book. “As you wish, my lady.”

You felt a rush of heat pool in your face. Even after years of growing up with Prince Aemond and tearing down any walls that were built from the unavoidable hierarchical imbalance, he would always know how to get under your skin.

The two of you would spend long hours in the fireplace room after supper, enjoying the calmness and silence. You’d be entertained with your embroideries while Aemond took his time diving into history and philosophy books.

A very intriguing young man he was.

In fact, he was just as intriguing as he was perceptive, which was why it didn’t surprise you that he had caught on to you occasionally glaring at him.

Not just him.

His body.

Quite frankly, the burning curiosity inside you begged you to just ask. It could be considered improper, but your mind kept wondering how.

How did he do it?

How did it feel like?

What was the worst that could happen should you ask these questions?

The matter of intimacy was all but known to both of you. He’d often invade your dreams with kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare reveal any of that to him. Sometimes, when about to doze off, you’d wonder whether it was reciprocal.

Not that it mattered. Your father would one day marry you off to some lord in some decaying castle never to cross paths with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

So you might as well ask and it was apparent that your body language betrayed your forced calm demeanour as it was enough to get his attention.

“Why are you so tense?”

You jolted in your seat, nearly jabbing the needle in your finger. “I am not tense at all,” you offered a smile.

“Lying is very unbecoming of you,” he said, flipping through a couple of pages. “Whatever is on your mind, you can share with me.”

You straightened in your seat, lowering your faze to the flowers you were carefully threading with your needle. Given the current circumstances, embroidery seemed far more inviting in comparison with having to deal with a suspicious Aemond.

“Take your time,” he said, not tearing his eye from the book and drumming his fingers on the padded armrest.

“I… it is nothing, Aemond.”

If you thought that was enough to shake him off, you were dead wrong. Instead, Aemond heaved a deep sigh and closed the book on his lap, staring intensely at you.

You tried your best to ignore his penetrating glare, but all to no avail.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, but there no hint of annoyance in his voice.

If anything, he seemed deeply amused.

“What do you—”

Aemond interrupted you at once. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me as of late.”

You looked at him wide-eyed. “Staring?”

“Subtlety isn’t your strongest suit.”

His eye was studying your every move and you had to be the inside of your cheek in frustration. More at yourself than at him, if you were being honest. You knew he wasn’t who was easily fooled, but you had also not expected that all the glaring had become that noticeable.

“It is nothing,” you said, feeling droplets of sweat coating the pads of your fingers, staining the coloured thread.

“You keep staring at my hands. Why?”

He had beautiful hands, indeed.

“For no reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I will not have you riding Vhagar with me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He clicked his tongue. “Do not try me.”

Your heart clenched as your felt trapped. “It’s nothing much,” you lowered your voice and glanced around to make sure no unwanted visitors were present. I was just wondering how it feels when you... uh... when you... do it.”

Aemond’s eyebrow arched. “Do... what?”

You weren’t sure if he was genuinely unaware of the implication, or if he was just pretending in order to get you riled up. However, were willing to bet on the latter.

“Hmm... you know...” you said, feeling your face burn hot from embarrassment. “How does it feel when you… hmm… pleasure yourself,” you finally managed to get the words out but quickly added, “Just curious… because… hmmm… just curious and—”

You cut yourself off, realising you were now rambling.

Tense moments ticked by and you noticed Aemond Targaryen was visibly amused. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to touch myself in front of you?”

Panic immediately hit you hard. “Of course not! Why would I want to see that? How — how is that—what? — I was merely wondering.”

He placed the heavy book on the table by his side, as his lips curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

You shot him a death glare. “If you don’t want to tell me just say that.”

“I do not indulge in such depravities.”

“Lies,” you threw at him in disbelief. “I do not believe you.”

“Lies? Well, it does take one to know one, I reckon.”

You bit the inside of your cheek once at the remark regarding your earlier failed attempt at deception.

“There is no need to get tense,” Aemond said, standing up to take a seat in the nearby velvet-padded settee.

“I’m really not.”

“We all have urges, I suppose,” he then shrugged, staring at his own hands. “I have never done this with someone else. It could be… interesting.”

“You could simply tell me how it feels or how you do it,” you said, mouth turning dry. “Besides, we would not be doing anything here.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?”

He could not be serious…

“The doors are closed,” he said, extending one hand to you. “No one comes here this late at nigh. Come here.”

Your feet brought you to him before you could even process what was happening. “I was having a serious conversation and you’re now talking about your… your…” you pointed at his crotch as you say by his side.

This time he arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Weren’t you the one who wanted to know how it feels like?”

Point taken. “Yes, but—”

“So what do you want me to talk about?” Aemond asked, lips turning into a devious grin.

“You are being vulgar.”

“You started this conversation, my lady,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s being vulgar.”

There was no way around it. You were definitely making things worse for yourself. This had started off innocently enough, but he was easily bending the conversation to his will.

You decided to ignore his remark and had your eyes on the lit fireplace in front of you, determined to enjoy the way the flames danced around and burned through the wood.

But Aemond was relentless.

“I can show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You awaited for him to quickly take that back as a joke, but that moment never came.

He was dead serious.

“No, thank you,” you breathed, still not daring to look at him.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind taking a peak, but you couldn’t just admit to that. What if it made things awkward between you? What if you had crossed a line you weren’t sure you could go back from?

You kept your eyes firmly locked on cackling fire, but you could feel him shift beside you. It was probably a bad idea to dart your eyes to the side to watch as his legs lazily sprawled out from the settee, with and one hand resting on his belt.

You jolted when you saw him extend his hand to you. “You may touch it.”

This was definitely not what you had in mind. “Uh...”

He chuckled briefly. “It is my hand, not my cock.”

Your chin nearly dropped at his crass words and you frowned. “It’s simply genuine curiosity.”

He chuckled. “And I’m here willing to satisfy that curiosity. We have shared a friendship for many years,” he said, voiced coated in tones of warm honey. “If you are to learn about such things, I’d rather be the one enlightening you.”

It was such an unexpected and truthful statement, you felt your heart soar.

But as satisfying as it was to hear such words from him, you still had a shred of dignity left. “What if someone comes in?” you hissed in a low voice, eyes roaming across the room.

“We can be discreet,” he said. “Have you forgotten the many times we hid under beds after raiding the kitchen? No one would ever find us and those apples tasted ten times better.”

The memories of your shared youth tugged gently at your heartstrings.

“But we’re not hiding.”

Aemond brought a finger to trace the back of your hand. “We don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard hand watched as he offered you his hand at first. Without failt, your heartbeat sped up instantly, but you did your best to ignore it as you inspected his hand. His palm was turned upwards, giving you access to his warm skin.

“Can I...?”

Aemond had his head on the backrest, half-hooded eye still on you. “Yes.”

Holding the back of his hand in yours, you let your index finger slowly drag across it.

You could have sworn you heard the faintest sound come from him.

His skin felt really warm to the touch, nearly

“Is this alright?” you asked, halting briefly and studying his face.

“Carry on.”

But then something else in your field of vision caught your attention.

The hand he had resting on his belt drew you to look a bit further down and—

“Aemond?” your sudden gasp had him staring at you. “How are you...”

He bent his neck to stare down at the bulge in his pants. “I have no control over it.”

You wanted to be outraged, but this made you feel empowered and did wonders to your ego. You wanted to let go of his hand and be done with... whatever this was.

But you didn’t dare break contact with him.

If anything, the grip on his hand only intensified.

“Keep going… I can get harder than this.”

Gods. His hoarse voice immediately caused your thumb to resume the soft strokes along the palm of his hand.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were no longer bothered in concealing how much your body craved more of him.

And just like Aemond had promised, you were able to see his cock growing harder and even twitching slightly each time you applied a certain amount of pressure on his skin.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants.

You wanted more.

No.

You needed more.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual as he had his fingers on the buckle of his belt, tugging on it. The sight had your mouth watering. The not so subtle bulge was clearly making him uncomfortable in a way and in eye you detected undeniable lust.

You couldn’t help but shift closer to him, and the motion triggered him into undoing his belt. Once he got it out of the way, he unbuttoned his pants.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief at sudden relief of tension.

“Maybe we should stop?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, gently fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

No. “It’s just... what if someone—”

“You keep sabotaging yourself,” he groaned in exasperation.

“But... if someone comes in...”

He growled. “I will behead them.”

Your eyes widened in sudden horror.

“I am not being serious,” he finally added, offering you a grin. “Just enjoy this.”

In one switft motion, he pulled the fabric down, freeing his hard cock.

“Oh...”

You had never seen one before. It looked intimidating and you tried to do something other than just glare, but you couldn’t quite believe in what was happening just yet.

“Such a pretty mouth...” he observed as his eye dropped to your lips and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Your clit was pulsing as your walls clenched and pushed out more and more wetness to coat your folds.

Aemond started pumping his cock in a lazy rhythm, eye fully locked with yours. You saw a few beads of a clear liquid pooling around the tip.

“Keep touching me…”

“I... I...” you sounded like a fish out of water.

He tightened the grip on his cock, forcing more of the liquid to come out. That’s when it started sliding down and onto his knuckles.

“Keep going…”

It was clear he was getting impatient and the strain in his voice hit your brain, causing you to straighten before bringing the palm of his hand to your lips.

You made sure he kept his eye on you when you started pressing soft kisses to each finger.

“Good...” he praised and encouraged, bringing the palm of his other hand to rub on the tip of his cock.

He had his wetness smeared across his skin and you kept on kissing him until he dragged his hand down to pump his cock once again.

“Let me feel you,” he panted, squeezing himself tighter. “I want to feel you.”

You presse one last kiss to the palm of his hand. “What?”

It was his turn to grip your hand. “Let me fuck your hand.”

Oh… Gods…

You felt a load of wetness leak from you it’d be a miracle if you managed to somehow finish this without having your own dress completely soaked.

He guided you down to his crotch, letting go of his cock only to have your own hand wrapping around him, drawing a beautiful hiss from him.

The sudden urge to kiss him took over your senses, and just as the thought flooded your mind your body promptly acted in it, and you crashed your lips onto his.

He was definitely caught by surprised, but had no problem reciprocating the same hunger and lust you felt for him by having his tongue against yours.

You allowed him to guide your hand up and down his cock with his own, feeling his grip increase. He set up a very slow rhythm as if making the most out of this moment.

“Tighter...” he moaned in between a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers promptly squeezed around him. He had been leaking so much that it didn’t take long before your own hand was drenched in his wetness.

It was hard to focus on his cock when he was completely robbing you of air, refusing to break the kiss.

When he finally let go of your lips, you saw him staring down at his cock fucking your hand. You could feel his breath come out in pants when he started lifting his hips to set a new tempo.

“Is… is this how you do it?” you said innocently.

Aemond’s eye closed shut and that was the best reply he could have given you.

You absentmindedly brought your free hand to roam under your dress and to your undergarments. Your wetness was sipping through the fabric, your pussy clenching at the thought of one day having him take your maidenhead.

You didn’t even notice that he had undone his coat and lifted his shirt, exposing his abdomen as it flexed with each snap of his hips, a sheer coat of sweat forming as he sped up.

“Are you tighter than this?” he groaned.

How could someone be this… alluring?

He kissed you again, his hand gripping yours tighter once again.

But you needed more of him.

You pushed him away for a moment so you could swing one leg over his waist, effectively sitting on his crotch. Lifting your dress, you revealed your soaked undergarments. Aemond was shamelessly glaring at the stain that was spreading across the fabric.

“Be quiet,” you told him, squeezing his cock as a warning.

“I said nothing,” he said with a knowing smile.

You needed the friction on your clit and this new position would grant you that. With each thrust from him, your clit was being pressed gently, and you couldn’t help the deep moan that slipled through your mouth.

Aemond finally let go of his grip in you and brought both hands to frame your face, once again draining your lungs from air as he pulled you into a scorching kiss.

You never thought you’d be this close to release, but that was the least of your concerns. You wanted to watch that beautiful man unravel before your eyes.

He kept on thrusting into your hand, and when he pulled away you knew he was close. You took some time to admire how his beautiful face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted into laboured gasps.

“Faster...” he urged you and you were more to glad to oblige.

You were now familiar with what made him groan deeper, gasp louder, and roll his hips higher. It took him only a few more moments before his thrusts started faltering, and he had to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from groaning out loud as hot spurts of cum started shooting against your undergarments. You shuddered as the head of his cock pressed into your clit and his warm released sipped into the fabric.

You tumbled forward to rest your head against his shoulder, not even concerned about the mess.

“That was…” he let out, chest heaving rapidly.

“Can we do this again?”

You felt his chest rumble into yours. “Give me some time to recover… you just emptied me…”

-

Part II

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - The Summer Games BLgin.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Those Greeks did have that reputation for naked dudes rolling around together so I'm declaring it...

BL OLYMPICS!

I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates through mid August, just for funzies.

July 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - I guess mass murder is nothing next to having to raise funds for your basketball club. There were a lot of water sports in these eps (no not that kind). I’m not complaining. The street BB playoffs were fun. Frank is GOOD. I didn’t know he played. They aren’t using doubles for this. Meanwhile, it’s a bummer this one can’t be a poly romance. 

Winner!

Gold in Handball

for that shower scene in ep 9 (also... ya know, DUNK TANKS)

Balls in hands of all types.

Briefly must chat about that intro/outro music. It's like Thai autotuned Stray Kids. Which means I kinda adore it.

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 5-6 of 10 - I guess he’s had a long time to learn how to fight really really well. This is a fun show. It does occasionally feel like a bunch of gay boys playing dress up. I LIKE P’Third a lot. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be an actual baddie. I’m finding the music a little intrusive in these episodes. I love the deconstructed suits look, and the velvet blazer. Very 90s. The confessions scene was very cute. It’s a good thing Vee is so easy-going, because the last few months of his life have been truly insane. And now he’s queen of the castle? Still working his convenience store job?

I honestly thought we'd just get kisses halfway through not a full on sex scene. But it was very sweet and tender. Appreciated, boys, thanks. However it’s never a good sign when the sex scene is it at the halfway point, it just means there’s gonna be a lot of trauma to come.

(I gotta say every time Daou smiles he actually looks his age.) 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 8 - I like them now. I mean as a pair of characters. I wasn’t really sold on the main couple until this episode, and now I’m interested (yes I am shallow). The boy with the glasses is definitely sus. I’m quite drunk, thus I have to say Sailub is the hottest thing on my screen right now. Metas's taste in interior design sucks. OK, that physical therapy session was sexy. I wasn’t sold at first, but now I love this side couple too.

Argh. SailubPon kiss so well. Also COUNTER LIFT!!!! 

Silver in Weightlifting

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - I’m the one who always says this stuff, but this pair might be the best at relationship heat. Let me try to explain. They are good at putting on screen the kind of NRE, want to bone, just really into each other physically and also connected and loving. It’s the way their bodies always arch towards each other. They’re very comfortable in each other’s space in a way that’s really rare to see out of Any BL country but Taiwan. I think they might be my favorite couple currently active. I don’t know how to put it except that

it looks like they want each other,

it looks like they like each other,

it looks like they’re into each other,

and it looks like they GET each other.

It’s nice to see on screen. The plots/stories/narratives that they're given aren’t doing them any favors, but man they’re a good pair. Meanwhile, was I screaming the whole time don’t rip the sample of the custom piece? Yes I was. But it was still sexy.

Sam getting discovered was fun! Yo is gonna burn his arse good.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Okay! Officially boyfriends. I almost like the friendship btw Atom and Mudmee better than the romances. But they all so cute. 

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 4 of 12 - I hate the gf intern so much. I think she is past redemption now - time for death. What is it they say about ADs? they do all the work, for none of the credit but all of the blame.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I guess Peak’s dad really is that awful. Jane is the beard? Got it. The show got suddenly quite sweet and complex. Where did that come from? Meanwhile ,Almond + Latte + sex education is awesome. Great trope we rarely get in BL. 

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Look, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with the show. I like to be driven one way or the other by Meme. Trash watch here. (delayed this week, I can't face it)

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 1-2 of 12 - Out the gate I don’t like it. I don’t really like the teasing thing and the acting is poor. That said, neck kisses in the very first episode do make me happy. So I’m gonna keep watching. As for ep 2, I like the sides, and we have gay brothers trope activated. I also like the paranormal element, it adds some much-needed tension, but it is still a little slow (typical of a pulp).

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - I like our poor lost puppy slowly figuring out what’s going on. It’s so elegantly done. Also, the the boy begs his quiet seme to SAY something, you know he’s gonna DO something instead. 

I could have done wihtout the pan around the head kiss. We over that, 8 years ago.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Why don’t I like this show? I had to think about it quite a bit. It’s the power differential. I never enjoy it when the character with less power is the one doing the pursuing, it comes off as too desperate or something. In this case he is: from the country, poor, and younger, It just makes Takara’s dismissive attitude and snobbery unpleasant to watch. Also, you know me, =/= obsessive stalker behavior. 

It's airing but...

Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) ep... - Great, a rich boy studying business at uni, suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I try to catch up next week.

I have a source, but I simply didn’t have time to watch it. So sorry. Too much traveling too much BL to keep up with. A perfect conflation of conflicting priorities.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?

64.media.tumblr.com

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Up Next!

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return, and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: the premise? Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

8/4 Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please Gaga pick this one up? They made it for US.

8/7 Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Weds ????) 8 eps - office romance around the makeup counter featuring a younger seme and sex by blackmail. I am intrigued. DFTUJ (don't fuck this up, Japan).

8/8 Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs WeTV ) 12 eps - I am so DAMN excited to see Big finally lead a BL. I can't even with this, one of my most anticipated of this year. He's a great kisser ya'll, he's kissed a lot of boys as second lead. I can't WAIT.

8/12 First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) 12 eps - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan stars Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn tean. I can't wait. With thier powers combined!

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

Addicted Heroin (Thailand adaptation) is also supposed to release this month. GIVE IT TOO MEEEEEE. I don't care about anything else but August back on my screen. It's been almost a decade since he did BL.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This week's adventures in caption "out of" and "off" are not the same thing. This is an uncomfortable thought.

I'm so tired I'm seeing double. This is all you get.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

Sports in Play (the jokes write themselves) )

Boxing

Breaking

(That's Not) Cricket

Diving (yes, for that)

Fencing (yes, with those)

Handball (exactly what it says, no, read the word.. again)

Rhythmic Gymnastics (obvs)

Squash (snicker)

Surfing

Swimming

Trampoline

Weightlifting

Wrestling

[afterglowkatie]

someone better | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 2.6k | There was always someone better. You never felt like you’re enough for anyone, especially not yourself. Would anyone really miss you?

ˏˋ°•*⁀ Heavy themes include: suicidal thoughts, depression, low mental health, thoughts about a suicide attempt, intrusive thoughts, negative thoughts. Please read if you can handle things like that. sorry if it doesn't make sense, it's essentially a vent fic i just needed to get things out it's been a low day so yeah

The air was crisp. You could see your own breath, which would’ve been amusing when you were a kid but now it was a reminder that you were alive. You didn’t mind the cold, at least it gave you something to feel other than the numbness that had taken over your body. The rooftop access in your apartment building wasn’t secured and was never monitored so you found peace in sneaking up onto the rooftop to think and reflect. Seeing the city’s skyline, it was beautiful. A stark contrast to the awful thoughts that plagued your mind. 

Watching the lights shimmering below, all the people that wandered the streets below, all the people that were in their own apartments, yet you never felt more alone than you do right now. A bit ironic. Shakily taking a breath, you decided to sit lean against the edge of the building and let your thoughts consume you. There was no stopping it so why not let your mind run free when you’re in a space without any interruptions. Even if letting your mind run free meant it was slowly killing you in the process.

The thought of death was always in the back of your mind, occasionally making its way to the front when you thought you had exhausted all your other coping mechanisms. Another irony, when you were younger you were always afraid of death. Afraid of dying, but now more than ever it was what you craved. You would happily welcome death if it meant you could disappear from life to never return. Never having to face the pain and suffering of everyday life again.

It’s not like anyone would miss you, or even notice or care that you were gone. That was it really, no one needed you. A hard thought to stomach, one that made your head spin, that made you fall deeper than you already were. They all had someone better, someone more important to them than you were. You were always just someone they could use to fill the time before someone better came along.

Every time you got attached to someone, you’d eventually lose whatever friendship you had with them. A ‘filler friend’, you would call yourself. The one no one thought about unless they needed you or if they had no one else. Always a last resort, never a first choice. No one would truly miss you. They might say they do but a day later they’d go about life like normal and never think or say your name again. You knew these thoughts were irrational to an extent, although the part of you that believed that these negative thoughts were the truth always won. This was the truth that others were afraid of telling you. The truth you had to tell yourself.

You had convinced yourself that all you do is break, burn and drain the life out of others. Always trying to be the person they needed, the person they wanted you to be regardless of your own feelings and pain. Which you obliged, learning from a young age that all you had was yourself. Your own problems and thoughts were only yours to carry. Quickly learning to suppress emotions, fake smiles, and keep a bubbly personality around anyone else. No one needed to be burdened by you, your absence in life would be a blessing, even if no one else knew it yet they would realise not long after you’d left.

But that’s the thing, everyone else in your past had left or moved on. What made anyone else at Arsenal any different? It would be silly to think that this club would stay the same until everyone ended their careers. You all seemed like a family, but even families broke apart. It would also be silly to think that even if everyone separated that you would all stay in contact. Maybe for a little while but it wouldn’t take long before everyone drifted apart from each other, before anyone drifted apart from you. You thought you were easily forgotten. So what difference would it make if you decided to leave now? You were tired of trying to live. Trying to live to everyone’s expectations of who you were and who you should be.

You were more than grateful for how far football has come and thankful for all the fans and support from everyone online and in person. But with that continued to grow the expectations you had to live up to. You were the team’s ray of sunshine. Even the fans saw you that way. You were the one that gave everyone hope. Always knowing how to help lift your teammates up when they were feeling low, especially after a loss of an important match. You never wanted anyone to feel the way you felt now, the way you had always felt. Which is why you continued to put that weight on yourself.

Though being the team’s source of positivity and hope was exhausting. You were getting tired and felt that no one noticed how broken you had become on the inside. Slowly becoming a shell of who you once were, but you would try your best to never let anyone see. Especially not let your teammates see. You were good at that. At never letting anyone in enough for them to see how much pain you suppress each day. No one had to see how much you tear yourself apart just to be enough. To be enough for them, enough for a friendship you saw them all have with each other. 

Friendships were hard, you weren’t funny or interesting enough to keep anyone around for long. Your insecurities were always eating you alive. You found comfort in the coldness of the night more often than you would’ve liked to admit. Your midnight rooftop escapes were becoming more frequent, less time spent in bed and less time spent sleeping. It gives you more time to reflect. Typically hyperfocusing and reflecting on the way each individual group within the team interacted with each other. Always wishing you were enough to have a friendship that they all seemed to have with each other. Sometimes it felt like you were an outsider looking in.

It’s how it always went. You tried to put your all, your entire heart, into friendships and trying to keep connections with others. But it was all so exhausting and tiring. Past experiences constantly kept tainting any new opportunities. People in your past thought it was easier to constantly fumble and drop your heart, letting it shatter into tiny pieces leaving you to try to put it back together before the next person came along to do the exact same. You were used to the cycle, it had happened growing up within your family home life, within your last club, it was exhausting. It left you feeling constantly broken and empty and thinking that maybe you just weren’t deserving of a deeper friendship. Part of you likes to believe that you are deserving but lately it has been harder and harder to believe in that. It has become harder and harder to believe that if you stuck around long enough that things would change, that you would find what you were yearning for. But at the end of the day, who would want someone like you in their life?

Maybe you overthink too much, perhaps you let your mind have too much free range that it makes you believe these awful thoughts. That it makes you believe no one enjoys your company and that everyone would be better off without you. You didn’t know how to control them once they started. Your mind just taking you through each one of your teammates, showing you they were fine without you, better off without you in their lives. 

Though your mind would happily let you forget and not notice how much everyone in the team cared for you. How they had started to notice that you were slowly fading away. You never saw the hushed whispers and how the group conversations had started to slowly shift into others voicing their worries and concerns for you. You were always so lost in your mind during these episodes that you missed the way you gained extra attention from Leah. Leah was always quite attentive and never failed to notice changes in you.

Finally feeling the chill of the air, you blew heat into your hands rubbing them together. Leaning against the edge you looked down. The thoughts to end everything then and there easily slipped into your mind. It was high enough that it would be a definite permanent action, but you could never bring yourself to follow through. Though tonight, everything telling you to follow through with your thoughts were louder than they had ever been. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. The cold air burning your lungs. The burning feeling you had become used to the more you spent out at nights. Somehow your body could feel numb and on fire at the same time. Perhaps it was just your anxiety but you would never admit to that. Admitting to your feelings is acknowledging that they’re there and that there’s a problem you had to fix. You’d rather pretend.

Looking down once more you were reminded of the one constant you had in your life. The one person who made you feel everything, the one that could make you believe life was worth living. Leah. Were you selfish for feeling this way when you had someone who would give you the world, who would give you everything she had? You felt selfish, that’s for sure. Leah was always enough for you, but there was that one part of you that wanted a friendship so similar to the friendship Leah provided for you before your relationship turned into something more than friends. Thinking about Leah gave you a semblance of hope. A continued faith that you’ll be okay in the long term, a reminder that right now was a short term feeling.

Turning away from the edge and the sidewalk that was calling your name, you decided to go back to the warmth of your apartment and the person who was currently occupying one side of your bed. Rubbing your arms, trying to defrost a little before climbing in beside Leah. You didn’t want to share the coldness that plagued your body when all she ever offered you was warmth, both physically and mentally. Leah looked peaceful while she slept, you smiled. It wasn’t big but it was real. Your smile around Leah was always real, no matter how small. You love Leah, and if you couldn’t live for yourself you would do it all for her. Eventually you would be able to do it for yourself, but anything that helped keep you here, keep you alive was enough until you could manage to want it for yourself.

Leah knew how much you were trying. She saw the pain in your eyes, she knew you well enough to be able to see right through you. You never liked to keep things from Leah, but you could never find the right words to tell her so you silently hoped she could see. Leah knew you went up to the rooftop most nights, but she also knew you were strong enough to pull yourself away and back into her arms when you needed it. She had followed you up to the rooftop, curious to see where you had been spending your nights. She watched from afar, worried since you were too close to the edge for her liking. But then she saw the way you were able to take yourself away from the edge and back down. 

Leah watched from afar for a little while. Every single time you came back down to bed Leah would give you endless amounts of love and support. Whispering words of encouragement and praise that you didn’t think you needed to hear. Leah trusts that you would come to her if your thoughts ever got too much. And as much as you wouldn’t want to burden her, you also know deep down you would seek her out instead of following over the edge of the rooftop.

Every time she was thankful to see you walk back through the doors to your apartment, to your room, even if you hardly slept she knew you were safe. Knowing that you wouldn’t accept the help from anyone if they offered it outright, Leah would help you in other ways. Subtle ways that you hadn’t completely noticed yet. Leah would make sure all the laundry was done, folded and put away. She watered all the plants you had forgotten about so they wouldn’t die and when you left this episode you wouldn’t feel bad for neglecting your babies. Leah would give you a routine that you followed each day so you didn’t have to use up the energy you needed to use to fight on something mundane, on something Leah could do for you. 

She wanted you to be able to give your all into this fight, one she knew you would be doing on and off for the rest of your life. But if it meant having you around then she would do whatever it took. Leah knew you were capable of taking care of yourself but she also knows how hard it can be to get up and fight to live every day. Leah was proud of you for continuing to get through every day.

Leah smiled when she woke up to you climbing into bed, before dawn she noticed which was a new record for you lately. Instantly Leah was in your embrace, the smile on her face just from your presence lulled the screaming thoughts enough for you to believe you could have some sense of sleep.

‘I hope it wasn’t too cold out there tonight,’ Leah’s voice was low and raspy, a mix of trying to not be too loud with it being so late in the night along with having just woken up, ‘Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold baby,’ Leaning down you placed a kiss on the top of her head, her thoughtfulness was comforting.

‘You don’t have to worry about me Le,’ You felt her body suddenly stiffen at your words, tending to overanalyse your words and thinking the worst, ‘You’re stuck with me forever babe,’ A small chuckle left your lips and Leah started to relax again in your arms. Maybe you weren’t a problem in people’s lives, maybe you needed better judgement on who to give your heart to. Giving your heart to Leah was easy, you know she’ll keep it safe. Romance always comes easily to you. Giving your heart to a friend was where you struggled. But now wasn’t the time to lose yourself again.

‘Never forget you have a place in this world. You’re special, important and loved,’ Leah always knew what to say and when to say it. It was like she could read your mind, which at times scared you, ‘I love you,’

‘I love you too, Le,’ Holding her close gave you hope that one day you could feel whole again, ‘Now, my love, you need to sleep,’ Even though she was in and out of sleep you could still cause a faint blush to spread across her face just from your words.

‘Only if you sleep,’ Before Leah knew it she had fallen back to sleep. Watching Leah sleep, you like to believe her peaceful aura would send you to sleep and that it wasn’t you falling asleep from pure exhaustion. Your fight was far from over, you were only just beginning but she gave you the strength you needed each day to make progress. Always reminding you on days you made no progress that waking up and living was progress enough. Making it through each day, no matter what, was enough. You were enough for Leah. You were enough for everyone else around you. You just had to believe to be enough for yourself.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to do anything to help my roommate's baby?

More of a "was I an asshole" rather than "am I an asshole?"

I (21F) am a college student living in an apartment with two roommates, Anna (22F) and Mica (23NB). I've lived with Anna for two years now and Mica for one, and we've all always gotten along great with no major issues apart from the fact that Anna's boyfriend of several years is emotionally manipulative and incredibly insecure and jealous, but that's an issue for another time, except that I don't like him and make no secret of it. I also don't like children, never want children, and crying babies is one of the biggest overload/meltdown triggers I have because it stresses me out and also triggers some violent intrusive thoughts (I have autism and OCD, which both of my roommates know about, but never cause any significant issues and I don't act on those thoughts.) That is to say, I should not and do not want to be around children.

Anna and I live far enough apart over the summer that we only see each other during the school year, and this year I'm a junior and she's a senior. I showed up at the beginning of this school year and lo and behold, Anna is about five months pregnant. Turns out it happened toward the end of last school year, she didn't tell anyone at first, and didn't bother to mention it over the summer (which I'm pissed about). I was NOT expecting one of my closest college friends to be about to have a baby, let alone one that I'm living with.

For the next few months, I helped her out, drove her to doctor appointments, etc, because of course the shitbag boyfriend lives like three hours away (where Anna lives when she's not at college) and refuses to drive over to help her out himself. However, I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with the baby once it's born. I wouldn't be helping her with diapers, wouldn't babysit, don't want her to put formula bottles on my shelf in the fridge, won't play with the baby or anything. I don't have the patience for that, I don't want the baby in my shit, I work 20 hours a week on top of my classes and homework and do not have time or desire to deal with a tiny human.

Fast forward to when the baby is born, Anna keeps saying she's looking for somewhere else to move, wants to move back full time to live with her shitbag boyfriend, have him help with the baby. Our other roommate Mica helps occasionally with the baby and is willing to do basic stuff and occasionally rocks him to sleep when they're sitting on the couch and stuff, but I refuse. Several months later Anna still hasn't moved out and has barely made the effort she says she will, she talks about the boyfriend a lot but I have literally NEVER seen him in person since the baby was born (he was there for the birth and that's it, drove her to our apartment afterwards since I didn't want to be there, then left again).

If there's ever a time when I'd be the only one home at the apartment and Anna asks me to babysit for a little while, I change plans and always leave so I'm not there even if it just means doing homework at the campus library instead of my room. Anna is exhausted and literally does nothing around the house anymore, never comes grocery shopping with Mica and I because she refuses to leave the baby home alone but doesn't want to take him to the store, I'm doing all of her dishes cause apparently she can't do that either, she asks us to do her laundry and cook dinner and everything for her now and I feel like we're being treated/put into the role of the baby's father.

I cannot stand children, I don't think Anna has any excuse for trying to make us care for her child, she seems to expect us to take care of him while she's in class and she can barely even afford her own share of rent and groceries and stuff let alone a baby (or hiring childcare), and I made it clear even before the baby was born that I wanted nothing to do with him and will not engage with him or do anything for him, and I think my "it's your fault you had a baby, sucks for you, now deal with the consequences" attitude is what might make me an asshole here but I'm so exhausted and my mental energy is always drained from the damn kid screaming and crying and making a mess of the house.

Mica talked to me privately recently and mentioned that they understand that I don't like children and that they're also upset with the fact that Anna can't take care of a child herself when she's a full time college student without a job and a shitty boyfriend who's barely in the picture, but they want me to try to engage more and have a bit of sympathy for Anna and not leave her completely stranded with an infant. I don't want children, I don't want to live with one, and don't want to have to care for one.

It's now April as of writing this and I have since moved out of the apartment (Anna and Mica still live together), I left in January at the start of spring semester when on-campus dorm housing was available and live with another friend whose roommate transferred the prior semester. I still see Anna around campus but I feel like the baby completely ruined our friendship but I still hang out with Mica a lot and occasionally get updates that way. I'm much happier, my mental health is better, and I'm not living constantly stressed and on edge because of the baby, and Anna still hasn't moved in with her boyfriend despite saying she's trying to for months now.

Was I an asshole for refusing to support my roommate and her baby, and essentially giving the ultimatum of "either the baby goes or I do?"

[beartitled]

I think Normal Bill is almost just as intelligent and knowledgeable as his canon counterpart, since he had more time to focus on science and such instead of chaos and despair and.. just about every problem in the book.

Can he also still see through trees and The All Seeing Eye on the dollar bill?

Does he have all the powers of Canon Bill?

How does he feel about Ford and Dipper?

What would he think if he saw his parents?

And.. how does he feel about all the.. imagery of him throughout the world? (Remember how Ford had a fucking golden statue of him? And with the cave paintings.. and the dollar bill, the pyramids have a vague eye shape on them (since canonically they were statues of Bill until the top hat and hands fell off) The Eye Of Providence being a sign for God.. yeah it’s REALLY suspicious, I don’t think he really trusts the Pines family at this point, because they are horrible at hiding things, you don’t need to be an all seeing god to know that.

(Sorry for the long rant, I just love this AU)

Don’t apologise for a rant 🫵 I love rants, my brain just can’t comprehend them sometimes 💥

And also aww 🥹 glad you enjoy this AU ❤️

Okay lemme try answering 👏

First yes, absolutely, he’s a smart boi

His energy is just in the nerd stuff now, instead of chaotic insane vibes he has in the canon

Yea and I think he considers it normal lmao

“Wait what do you mean you don’t see through trees Mabel? Like.. I thought everyone did??”

He’s a smart boi, but he is oblivious in some instances

Not sure about all powers, but some for sure

Also this Bill walks everywhere, bc he never saw humans fly and didn’t consider trying (maybe he saw one human attempt it and decided to never try it himself 💀)

I honestly not really sure

Again not my initial idea, but remember one person saying that Bill would have some intrusive thoughts about Pines time to time, not understanding where they come from and probably feeling really guilty about those

But ultimately I think he would consider them a semi family to him

If y’all want a more detailed answer

He’s probably the closest to Mabel, bc she’s a forgiving person and treats Bill as a new person

This version of Bill would be in a girls squad and hang out with them during sleepovers (he’s a gossip girl come on 💅)

Dipper would still be cautious around Bill (as well as Ford), but would get used to him over time forming some sort of brotherly bond

Also Bill would ship Dipper and Pacifica, occasionally playing cupid for them during Dipper crushing on Wendy

He saw an opportunity to tease Dipper (and he said it would be a good enemies to lovers trope)

When people said “Stan would’ve taken that shot” yea, he would kill the child

But perhaps after seeing Mabel being buds with Bill, he just might be a little less defensive

It could both ways really: either Stan would be completely against Bill, but grow to tolerate his presence with occasional (semi)friendly bullying; or Stan would double down and just actively trying to kick Bill out

Either way they would have some sort of rivalry for sure

He would be buds with Soos and Wendy, just chilling with em on the occasion

And the last but not least Ford

He would be the most paranoid and cautious, not because he’s afraid of Bill like Dipper, but because Ford is afraid of “trigger the old Bill inside”

He and Dipper had an agreement to hide all possible information that could potentially remind Bill about his old self (all the Pines agreed to it too to some extent)

Were they successful in it? Who’s to say

Bill obliviousness saved em a bunch of times

And to address the elephant in the room: no, Billford does not exist in this AU

*booing can be heard across the fandom space* NO, YOU’RE NOT GETTING OLD MAN YAOI ON THIS ONE

🍅💥🐻‍❄️ *tiny bear screaming*

Anyway

I just don’t think it would be fitting in that particular scenario

Don’t get me wrong I like canon Billford (I love the memes and the fact that they are implied to be canon exes is hilarious), but canon Billford

This particular AU just makes the situation incredibly specific 💥

I tried to imagine a scenario where Billford could happen (like i dunno, they gave baby Bill to Oracle and then met his “normal” version)

But with the direction in which this AU went, I think it’s best to leave Ford and Bill with a platonic/parental relationship

To be fair it would be incredibly weird to raise your ex in a baby form 😭💥

But I never actually considered to continue this AU originally, so um 💥💥

I think Ford would just eventually start treating Bill like Mabel: he’s a new person now and to keep that new person undamaged, you need to keep a lot of information hidden (for everyone’s and Bill’s own sake)

This version of Bill and Ford would get along, bc they would both be nerds

(btw Bill’s design is similar to Ford, bc this is how nerds look 🤓💅/silly) (but you can adapt it in a way that Ford just had an influence on Bill, they have a family nerd look™️)

I’m still not sure what kind of time paradox shenanigans the went through to raise Bill tho 💥

This

Honestly I think it would be hilarious if he just thought it was some different guy

“A triangle… with one eye… what if.. naaaah I don’t have a top-hat”

Anyway thank u for the ask ❤️ hope it was fun to read through💥

[lolahasmoxie]

Eddie Cuddling Headcanons

Our little touch-starved gremlin loves to cuddle; come and fight me on it. However, he does have a few quirky things he does because Eddie.

A hand on the titty.

Imagine mechanic Eddie coming home after a long day at the shop. After you feed him, you cuddle up on the couch, and it doesn't take long before he's asleep and lightly snoring.

He's half-lying on top of you, with one hand up your shirt and a heavy hand gently cupping your breast. Even with your giggling, he's out like a light. There is an occasional squeeze.

He has fallen asleep with a titty in his mouth.

It's been a long week for you both. Eddie looks like he could fall asleep standing up, and you offer to cuddle on the couch after dinner.

You lie down first, and then Eddie lays flat on top of you. But it's not enough.

He burrows under your sweatshirt, a delighted oooooh leaving his lips when he realizes you have no bra on as he wraps his arms around your waist.

You giggle when you feel his pillowy lips wrap around your nipple, and his gentle suckling makes it hard to focus on the TV. You're about to suggest moving this to the bedroom when it suddenly stops.

You call his name, nothing. You lift the neck of your sweatshirt and just chuckle when you see Eddie asleep with your nipple in his mouth. You run a hand over his hair and decide to just let him be.

He will ask random ass questions.

You're cuddling in bed, the small TV on the dresser airing the news. You're making small talk and plans for the weekend when you feel his ring-covered hand turning your face toward him.

You wonder if you will ever get used to how he looks at you intensely. How his brown eyes study you feels like he can see into your soul.

Then he opens his mouth; "would you perform an ancient soul-bonding ritual in the woods with me if I asked?"

He has no control of his gangly limbs.

You're cuddling in bed after a round of late-night sex. You're about to drift off when Eddie manhandles you into a better position.

You have ended up on the floor, taken an elbow to the ribs, and there was an unfortunate visit to urgent care when you pulled a muscle.

It doesn't help that Eddie is low-key super strong and is completely oblivious to this fact.

Has almost smothered you when he wraps both his arms and gangly legs around you.

Loves being the small spoon.

Please take a look at the previously mentioned touch-starved gremlin reference. He's gotten shit from the boys at work about liking to be spooned, but he doesn't give a fuck. He loves the feeling of being wrapped up in your arms.

It helps him to feel connected to you, it helps to ground him after you have sex, and it just feels nice. He loves the idea that you need to hold him just like he needs to hold you.

If you're shorter than him, he will refer to you as "his little jet-pack."

Handsy & Mouthy Motherfucker

He will grope.

He has squeezed your breasts while making a honking sound.

He has played your ass like a set of bongo drums.

He's also prone to biting.

He's spooning you, and just before you drift off to sleep, Eddie will, out of nowhere, bite your shoulder.

He will make sound effects when he does this.

Has also left teeth marks on your ass when his intrusive thoughts have taken over.

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[shalotttower]

Fractalize (part 2)

Title: Fractalize Fandom: Hunter x Hunter Summary: "You do this sometimes," he continues, tugging a bit harder. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago." Word count: 2100+ Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female) Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating, morbid pondering, morbid imagery, psychological manipulation, intrusive thoughts, non-con touching, non-con kiss. I start thinking that sad is probably my favourite genre to write at this point. Part 1 Part 3 is in question. I have some drafts, but not sure if it'll become anything.

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Your mother always smelled of fresh linen and something powdery, like her face cream which you tried once in secret. The fragrance held you mesmerized, and when the jar accidentally dropped from your hand, shattering into pieces, it lingered everywhere: on the bathroom tiles, in the cracks and narrow space under the sink. Her silent disappointment was so overpowering that you cleaned the mess three times.

That scent clung to her knitting needles too when she sat with yarn on her lap. It made way into your mind place, waiting for the most inappropriate of moments to resurface: she would show you how to knit, loop after loop, and eventually you were able to create your own tiny scarf.

Hideous, that's what it was.

But also the first thing you ever knitted, so you cherished it, not caring for the holes and loose threads. She called it pretty, mothers do lie like that.

"I was thinking," Chrollo begins. Clean plates are stacked next to a dish rack, ready to be dried. You help him sometimes with this mundane chore out of boredom or a faint allusion to the life you had.

"Mm."

When you stand so close, his shoulder occasionally touches yours, and a lump forms in your throat, a very unimportant physical aspect of your being that you've stopped paying attention to long ago. You swallow it away, like every single morning before putting on the same shirt for the eighth day in a row.

Dry and repeat.

"Is there anything specific you'd like to do today?"

You pick up another plate. How odd. A few months ago this question would've made you ecstatic. Not that there was a real chance to sway Chrollo's plans, but it was a gesture, the pretence that your input mattered, and you took everything from it, until it started tasting stale. A shy kind of feeling, misplaced and fragile, would bloom in your chest, and prompt you say something soft, silly and naive: 'maybe we can have a picnic?', 'I'd like a carrot cake', 'yes, I want to watch that period drama for the hundredth time.'

And he would agree sometimes. Or suggest his alternative instead, which turned out more often than not to be less favorable, but you accepted it because what else was there? In-between the walls decorated with expensive paintings, books you already read three times, between Chrollo who listened intently to every word and a faint buzz of some high-end place, you chose to take whatever you could.

It doesn't bother you anymore, going or not going. Doing nothing or doing something. Being with him in a room or being alone, even though the last one is more compelling. The initial excitement that came with having small choices has passed. You think sometimes that if you took a knitting needle and sunk it deep into your chest, the surface around it would start crumbling and bare a hollow cavity with just ribs and dusty spaces.

Chrollo's suggestions are very thought out. Aimed to convince you that this arrangement isn't that bad after all, but also aimed to bring him something from it, be it sitting uncomfortably close to you on a sofa or holding your hand the entire walk. His presence is stifling in more ways than one, and you've been choking, choking, choking on it for so long, that finally all those cracks running across your insides started to feel liberating.

"No," you say. "Not really. Anything you want is fine."

Chrollo's been asking this more often lately. What you want to eat and what you want to do. Even whether you want to go out sometimes (with him, of course, never alone). Perhaps he's trying to figure any new preference you might have. Or a part of him can sense this deterioration that's slow to set in, but once it does - it stays.

"Dear," there's a tone in his voice. It's not worry per se. Chrollo doesn't worry for you, he worries for that little world of his, made of forced interactions, silk bed sheets and fake domesticity, which you're a part of, an intricate cog he can keep closely tucked to his side. Sheltered, protected, cared for - these words don't fit. So you use other instead, like imprisoned, kept, thing. He likes to have them, from trinkets he steals to human beings - you. Maybe it comes from years of owning nothing at all, having nothing at all, and now the allure of having much and more is like second skin.

You've heard stories about children abandoned to their own devices. Those who were left to roam the streets, scavenge through trash and fight other kids for a half-eaten sandwich or a can of beans. You wonder if he was like that, with messy hair, bony limbs and a desperate need to own something that no one could take.

Bit by bit you slip.

That tone means he's sensing it already, that bit by bit you're trying to leave him behind.

Chrollo always catches up with things easily. From the way he grips your arms, you wonder if that's what he did just now, caught up.

"Yes?"

The dishes are all done, clean and sparkling. The sink shines too, almost mocking you with its perfectness - there's nothing to do anymore. Your mind space of fake wooden floors and wide windows is waiting to be occupied, but it would feel wrong to retreat there so soon. Chrollo will ask questions, and if you're not able to keep up, he'll notice too. He slides both palms down your skin, squeezing a tad harder at the elbows; and so you stare into the sink.

His hands aren't soft at all. They're a little dry from soap, callused around fingertips. How effortless it would be for him to break your bones, one by one, starting from the wrist, but that won't happen; no, all that comes from him is words whispered in your ear, caresses and cruelty wrapped in kindness - it sounds poetic when phrased this way.

Your reflection stares back from the stainless metal. She doesn't look bad. Chrollo takes good care of her, makes sure she eats balanced meals and drinks enough water. She looks alright, with shiny hair and healthy nails.

The eyes is what doesn't match this picture of okay-ness. Not empty. Not vacant. Just frozen in time and very, very still.

Chrollo presses closer until his chest is touching her shoulder blades. You wonder if he considers it a victory, this silent compliance. It's not acceptance really, because that should be accompanied by a sense of peace or fulfillment and none of the two are currently present. It's not even resignation - that requires energy to acknowledge defeat.

If neither of those, what is it then?

"You've been awfully quiet today."

A drop of water falls from the tap and slides down the drain.

"The whole week in fact," his thumb strokes her stomach through the fabric. Slow circles, up and down. Chrollo enjoys physical closeness so much that it should be surprising for someone like him - reserved, calm and collected - to thrive on such things, but you suppose when it comes to her there's an exception.

"Not that I mind it, but if something's bothering you, you know that I'm always ready to listen."

There is something bothering you actually. Many things. You want your cat back. You want him gone, away, to see your mother again and bake with her. Eat fresh pastries while listening to old songs on the radio and talk about silly things or whatever she liked to ponder over before you were swept off your feet like in those old fairy tales. You want your phone and accounts unlocked so you could message friends. You miss your grandmother with her apron, the way she laughed at corny jokes and told stories about her youth. You want many things that Chrollo would never agree on - you're well aware of that, that's why you keep them safely tucked away and rotting.

You also want him to stop pressing against your back, and this is far easier to achieve. Slowly you untuck yourself from between his body and the counter, then turn around. He watches your face calmly like always, with this unblinking gaze full of strange fixation; there are small lines in the corners of his eyes, barely noticeable ones. You count them - six in total, three for each eye.

Then you blink.

"I don't think there is anything."

"Really," Chrollo hums, playing with the hem of your shirt, and you wonder if he knows something you're not aware of him knowing. "You've spoken less than ten sentences in two days, yet there's nothing bothering you. I must say I don't believe that."

So this is how it's going to start. This is how the conversation begins, and it'll flow from here until Chrollo finds what he's searching for.

"I've been paying close attention."

You don't doubt it.

"And what did you notice?"

"Nothing pleasant," his finger finds a loose thread and wraps it around. The pull is light, as if testing whether it'll prompt you to move closer into his space. "Quite concerning things actually."

You don't budge an inch.

"You do this sometimes," he continues. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago. Or when you go over the same page until it's clear that I'm looking."

Chrollo's collarbone is a crisp line with a faint old scar; your attention skims over it to the sharp edges of his jaw. No smile today.

"And I wondered where you have been going."

He tugs a bit harder and the thread snaps.

It should've stunned you how fast everything crumbled - the imaginary wooden floors, Miss Whiskerton on your lap and the lizard, the wide windows - but no, it's surprisingly anti-climactic. Nothing breaks dramatically, just splits the middle, leaving you with cold kitchen tiles underneath your bare feet. You thought about this scenario - Chrollo cornering you, many times, and the words you would choose when he did, yet they fail to manifest and nothing fills the silence except a mute sensation of acknowledgement which settles over your head and shoulders. Your knees don't buckle. Your breath doesn't hitch, there is no shivering, and perhaps that's the most terrifying reaction of all.

So what, you think. And it's such a simple thought, plain and ordinary, so what.

Chrollo has his ways, but you have yours; they are slow and small, and squeeze you very tight. You can't comprehend this new expression on his face, haven't seen it before.

"My dear," he says in a quiet voice, so unlike his usual smooth, charming tone. "Broken thoughts and forlorn dreams can't fix what you want them to."

He taps your forehead, as if to engrave those words into the soft tissue of your brain. They slip away though, like running water.

"Wherever you choose to wander, there's not a single spot where I'm not right behind. Delusions don't suit you and it's simply sad to watch."

The kiss comes without warning; Chrollo doesn't bother to say anything else, just cups your face. It's warm and deep, a full-mouthed kiss that tastes faintly of tea you two drank during breakfast.

It's rot, you realize with a ten minute delay; and this slack mouth he's caressing isn't yours. There's a plant behind his shoulder, some small cactus with white needles sitting on a windowsill. The sunlight creates patterns on the glass, soft yellow circles and lines. They shift every passing second.

He's going to do this now, isn't he. Kiss you when you slip too deep as a way to break the pattern and remind that this is where you're supposed to be - with him. In the kitchen wearing a thin shirt above the knee, with cracks that spread across your insides, seeking for every small space they can fill. You'll grow older by his side, he'll bring you material pleasures to compensate for the lack of mental ones - books, clothes, jewelry, a pet if you decide to ask (you won't). Chrollo is going to kiss you often until age creeps onto your faces, and you'll watch each other turn old together.

The plant on the windowsill looks so dry.

"Dear."

He pulls back a few inches. You meet his eyes.

"Mm?"

You will let the rot dig under your nails and wait for it to eat away until his hands eventually become empty; rot is something to grab onto. It's slow to set, but spreads fast once does and never runs out of supply.

[arcielee]

Where Is My Mind?

Summary: Modern!FemaleReader’s subconscious has ruined her pussy. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2579 Warnings: Smutty smut, masturbation, little bit of spanking, oral (fem receiving), p in v, language, drinking.  Author's Note: I did not think I would do a part 2, but I really appreciated the feedback from my first reader insert attempt and loved all the kindred spirits I apparently have on this godforsaken social media platform. ♥ Also, thank you so much @f4ll-for-you​ for your time to read this over! Tags (kindred spirits): @narwhal-swimmingintheocean​ This is dedicated to @fan-goddess​ because you made a call out to something and I already had 1k with that in mind.  Series:  Call It Dreaming

It had been three agonizing weeks since that night-that dream?-in Westeros and peace no longer seemed to be an option for your pussy.

At first, after you woke up, hot, bothered, and naked on the couch, you were grateful your roommates utilized a Friday night in a way that your school and work schedule did not allow. You were quick to wrap yourself in the blanket and flee into your room.

You took a moment in your full-length mirror to survey yourself: the thin gash between your breasts was not bleeding, but still had a delicious sting to it, and you had no idea where your clothes were. It must have been some sort of fucked up sleep walking? You cringe at the thought, promising to never watch House of the Dragon outside the safety of your bedroom again. 

It was a very sexy dream, you tell yourself, returning to your bed and collapsing back onto it. Your mind wanders back, remembering the warmth of his hands on your body, the ache between your thighs when he entered you, the sensations of his hard chest pressed against your body…

Your hand trails to your cunt, your fingers desperate to touch and tantalize yourself the way Aemond Targaryen had. Your brow furrows with your concentration, your breath quickens with your motion, and your orgasm comes but it is like the tepid stream of tap water and the faucet was twisted shut.

You almost cry. My subconscious has fucking ruined me.

The thought does not linger and you return to your busy schedule of classes from morning until the afternoon and then your internship that went well into the evening. It was self-inflicted, a last minute decision to throw yourself into a master’s program for historic preservation. Though the internship’s pay was pitiful, it was manageable, and you had peace with your work, taking pride in visiting sites, your documentation process and photography for your filework later. 

It had been perfectly soothing until fucking recently and now every quiet moment led to intrusive thoughts of a specific, fictional, one-eyed prince.

You refused to be broken by your mind, after all you were a modern, independent woman with items purposefully purchased for whenever a situation called for a DIY orgasm. Your free time was on the weekends and you politely decline your roommates’ invitation to go out with the lie that your lady time has arrived. Only after they left could you truly cater to yourself and what you needed. 

Candles are lit, fresh sheets, every toy out on the covers and you sprawl back on your bed, your hands careful to trace where his hands had been, the bruising grip of his large palms, allowing your mind to flutter back to the Red Keep…

…and much to your disappointment, you find that you are still unable to bring yourself the release you had felt that night. 

This is fine, your subconscious has not ruined you, you think as you scroll through your phone to find blood and flesh, assuming that is what your body was craving.

You had an ex that was a suitable candidate; you dated briefly when you both finished your B.A. but found the next steps of both your academic careers required too much time. It was an amicable end and you still sent the occasional text.  

These texts were unlike the polite ones sent before and he was quick to reply. A week later, you were wearing a fitted black dress with a ribbed texture and an apricot cardigan over it, and ankle boots. You walk to the small bar that is only a few blocks away from your apartment, leaving a bit early to request a spiced rum drink for some liquid courage. 

Your ex finally arrives and he is still just as traditionally handsome in a House Stark sense-oh my goddess, leave that G.R.R.M. thought alone-with a big smile beneath his beard and exuding the same golden retriever kindness as before. The conversation is pleasant, catching up on each other’s life updates until the rum floods your brain and the insatiable ache between your thighs demands action. 

You grab him and the two of you fall away into a corner of the bar, but the moment you taste his lips to your own, you knew no modern man would be able to soothe the consistent ache in your lower abdomen, to satiate the void that gnawed within you. 

He notes your change in your demeanor and breaks away. “Hey, it’s cool if we just remain friends,” he offers with his token, genuine kindness, completely unaware of your internal warfare with your mind. 

There is a moment you think to protest, but decide against it. “Yeah, thanks, sorry,” you reply with a defeatist sigh. “I have, just, really been off lately. I think it’s because of my lady time,” you renew your lie. 

“Oh? I could just walk you home, if you want?” You shake your head, “It’s okay. I am a few blocks away. Thanks anyway.”

Your steps are determined and you make sure to stop at the mart on the way home, grabbing a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a cheap bottle of red dessert wine. In the solitude of your apartment, you grab two coffee mugs, one for ice cream and one for wine, making it easy to walk back to your room.

You throw off your cardigan and shoes, plopping onto your mattress, and fumble with the remote to turn on House of the Dragon, starting at episode eight. 

My subconscious has ruined me, was your last thought, bringing a spoonful to your mouth. 

And here you were, once again, standing in his same room and he, Aemond Targaryen, is seated in the same leather chair and facing the fireplace. The fire crackles loudly and gives a golden hue to the side profile of the prince. His posture is perfect, with one leg crossed on top of the other, his arm poised on the armrest and his thumb running the length of his fingertips and back again. 

“You lied to me.”

Your eyes widen as he pushes from his seat and squares off to you; he is wearing leather trousers and a loose, white tunic with the sleeves rolled up to show his toned forearms decorated with silver hair. His tunic is not laced up and his hard chest peaks beneath, moving with his steady breaths. 

Your heart pounds against your chest at the sight of him, your mind reviewing your last lucid dream of this perfect man who spoke so few words and you knew that you would not dare to lie to him, dream or not. You chew your bottom lip and allow your tongue to wet it, taking slow steps towards him, counting in-between each step to resist throwing yourself at his feet. 

“What do you mean, my prince?” Your tone is controlled, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks. 

He hummed and you swear you saw the hint of a smile touch his lips. “You said you were a whore that my brother had sent,” he continued, taking deliberate steps to close the space between you two. 

Oh, that, you remember the exchange and were quick to say, “My prince,” lowering your lidded eyes. “I had only said that I had been sent for your pleasure,” your tone is coy and your arms cross below your chest to showcase the bit of cleavage allowed with the scoop neckline, noting the dilation of his lavender eye that roams your figure. “You made the assumption that I was just another one of your brother’s whores.” 

You now can see the curl of his lips and you sigh your relief. He steps closer and reaches his hand to touch your jaw; his touch elicits a physical response and goosebumps ripple over your body, your nipples peeking beneath your dress. His lavender eye drinks in your figure. “You never did tell me,” he murmured, his voice dark and velvet.

“I have been sent for your plea-” you tried to begin, but he was quick to cut you off.

“Where are you from?”

Your mind floods with a response: How do I explain I am from the 21st century and he is the figment of my sexy imagination? Your eyes remain locked on the prince and you struggle to control your voice, “I cannot say.” 

His expression is unreadable and his only reply is his low hum, then his hand grasps onto your hips, turning you and bringing your body flush against his chest. He nuzzles into your neck, pushing your hair aside so his mouth can suck and nip at the nape. His large hands grip onto your stomach and follow your curves, moving to the hem of your dress and pulling it to your hips.

You moan from his warm touch as his fingers trace the lace of your cotton thong and move towards your center, titillating your slit. You feel your clit pulsing from his touch and he hums again, hugging you close with one arm wrapping around your waist and his other hand cupping your cloth cunt; his hips roll against you and you can feel his bulge grind against your ass. 

“So fucking wet,” he groans against your neck and more goosebumps ripple in response. 

“Yes, my prince,” you say with your exhale, twisting to face him and find his lips. 

He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and your tongue responds with long, languid movements to drink in the taste of his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, bruising your lips against his own, and his hands trail the curve of your hips and to your backside, feeling the bare flesh of your ass. His palm rises and slaps soundly against your skin; you squeal in response. “My prince!” You pull back, your cheeks and nose flushed from kissing.

“You act as if no other man has handled you this way,” he smirks. “Wherever you come from, do the men there make you feel a certain way?” 

Fuck me, I have never felt like this, but you feel shy with his question and instead say, “My prince, I have been searching for the pleasure you gave me and I have yet find anything that compares…”

Your answer is petting his ego, yes, but gods he was pretty. You did not expect him to speak further and your body pines to feel his touch, his lips once more. “And when you search to recreate,” his lips curl with his words, “the pleasure I gave you, did you use your hands?”

His tone is low, husky with his question and your cheeks burn when you nod yes. 

“Show me. I want you to touch yourself.”

Before you can comprehend what he said, his hands grab the small of your waist and bring you back towards the bed. He pushes you back, your dress still bunched around your hips, and climbs on top to find your lips for a slow, lingering kiss before moving lower to grab the lace strings to remove your thong.

The cool air nips at the wetness between your thighs and he brings your fingers to his mouth, suckling to lube them. Your back arches from the tickle of his tongue to your fingertips and you pull back your hand, letting it fall between to caress your swollen slit, your eyes never leaving him.

He takes a step back and moves his hands to unlace the top of his trousers, his hand reaching to caress his cock and his steady gaze never leaving you. It feels sinful and you feel the first crest of pleasure wash over, a soft sigh slipping from your lips. 

“Daor,” his voice pulls you from the edge, his gaze darkened on you. “Nyke mērī vestās renigon.”

No. I only said to touch. 

He pulls the loose tunic over his head, his silver hair spilling onto his shoulders and his leather trousers low on his hips, his Adonis belt prominent on his toned abdomen. He moves to press his hands onto the peaks of your thighs, pushing the dress further up and you are quick to peel off the rest in time to see him dip between your thighs. 

His mouth finds your center and you smother yourself in the bunched fabric of your dress as his tongue runs your slit. Aemond pauses and peers at you for a moment. “I need to hear you,” he says, his breath warm on your cunt and you are quick to throw the dress aside. 

He returns his attention, his tongue lavishing you; your hands are eager to comb his silken hair and he hums his pleasure into your cunt. Your moans grow wanton and the pleasure builds towards your crescendo when he stops suddenly.

You prop yourself onto your elbows to look at him and the curl of his lips seem wicked. “I have been waiting for you to return to me,” he said simply. “You will not have your release until I decide.”

Before you can protest, he moves quickly, his hands sink into your flesh with his hold and flipping you onto your stomach, drawing you closer towards the bed edge until your legs drop and your feet touch the cobblestone. You feel his chest press against your backside and the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance before he sinks into you. You moan with his delicious stretch and he gives a low groan as he bottoms out in you, falling forward and pressing his lips to your spine. 

“Just as I remember,” he growls, before his hands grab onto your hips and he ruts into you with a brutal pace. Your arms stretch in front to grab hold of anything as you feel him crash against you, his hip bones digging into the softness of your ass and reaching a depth that has your nipples taut with pleasure. 

“My prince,” your cries are pitiful and you can feel his breath on your spine.

“Ñuha brōzi,” his tone husky. “Vestragon ūja.”

My name. Say it.

“Aemond, please,” you obey, the crescendo building again and you see stars flitting across your vision. “Aemond, Aemond…” 

He can feel the flutter of your cunt but his pace does not cease until he feels you clenching, crying out as your orgasm rolls over your entire body; his thrusts slow with his release and he falls forward, wrapping his arms around you to hold you flush against him for a moment. 

You are torn between the fortune of another successful sexy dream and your realization that your subconscious has absolutely ruined your pussy, but you push the thoughts aside when he pulls you back beneath the covers. You curl up against the prince, your head resting against his chest while his fingertips travel the length of your spine and back. 

“You said I kept you waiting,” you say shyly.

He hums at first and then he says, “I imagine you will leave me again.”

“I will need to,” you feel an ache with your words. “But I will stay as long as I am able to.” 

Aemond hums again and turns to pull you against his chest. You feel the press of his lips to your hairline and feel the flush of goosebumps with the murmur of his words, “Sȳz riña.”

Good girl.