#i also wanna. be okay with. not finding someone

[runninriot]

A Christmas Wish Come True

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 25

prompt: Christmas | rated: G | wc: 1.000 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, found family, strangers to lovers

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+ bonus epilogue)

“So, wanna tell me about your little side gig as grandpa, Wayne?”

It was meant as a joke but his voice sounds angrier than he intended and it makes Eddie instantly feel bad.

   “I’m sorry. It’s just- why haven’t you told me?”

   “Look, that kid, Robbie, she only has her dad. And Steve is doing his best raising her all alone but- you know how me met? I’d just gotten off work, drove by his house and saw him sitting there on the front porch, looking like he was two seconds away from a mental breakdown. That man was a mess and he needed someone to take him by the hand. So, I reached out mine and he took it.”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, a habit he always has when he’s deep in thoughts.

   “I wanted to tell ya, I just didn’t find the right moment. And I was a little worried you’d have a problem with it. I know you had a thing for that boy back in high school and I didn’t know if you guys had ever been... close, so-“

   “No, no! Back up, Wayne. What?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s not like he ever had to hide the fact that he likes guys – Wayne always knew, always accepted Eddie for all he is. But never, not once, did he mention his stupid infatuation with Steve. There’s no fucking way his uncle knew.

   “Oh, don’t act so surprised. Every single piece of paper lying around your mess of a room had a little heart with Steve’s name on it.”

    Oh, right.

   “Okay, I give you that but why would you think we’ve been like, together? Even you must see how ridiculous that is. Have you looked at the man?”

Eddie bites his tongue before he says something like ‘He’s way too perfect to be with someone like me’. Wayne doesn’t need to know that he’s still got heart eyes for Steve and he already said too much.

   “Yeah, I saw. I also heard how he talked about you. How he got all soft when he talked about all the mischief you were up to in high school. That cost me all my hair by the way, so thanks for that.”

Wayne laughs and Eddie would too, if he wasn’t so confused right now.

   “Whether you knew it or not, that boy liked you. And seeing you two today, I’m pretty sure you still have that in common. You are both so bad at hiding it.”

Their conversation did not mess Eddie up. It didn't, okay? And he's definitely not nervous when he opens the door for Steve and Robbie to come in, right on time for Christmas dinner.

It doesn't make him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin when Steve takes the seat next to him, so close their knees occasionally touch.

And it doesn't cause a full-body shiver when their hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same bread.

It's fine. Everything is fine. Wayne doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing between them. No sparks, no fire, no longing glances. They’re just two small families celebrating Christmas together. Nothing more.

That's why, when Eddie excuses himself to have a smoke outside after dinner, and Steve follows him, he doesn't think much of it.

But of course, reality always comes crashing in. And when Steve huddles closer, stands right next to him, sharing his cigarette like that’s normal, Eddie can’t take it anymore.

   “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, trying hard to control the tremble in his voice.

   “Wayne thought you and I were, you know, a thing in high school. That’s why he didn’t tell me about meeting you.”

Eddie laughs but it sounds fake, and for a long moment, all Steve does is look at him, eyes piercing like they’re trying to see into Eddie’s soul.

   “Mhm, very funny,” he then says but doesn't sound amused at all.

   “No, it really is, because I had the biggest crush on you back then."

Eddie swallows, looks, waits. Doesn't know what for because it feels like anything could happen.

   "Had?" It almost sounds like a tease but Eddie can sense that Steve's nervous.

   "Would it be bad if it was still true?" Eddie asks, unsure of where this is going.

   "Depends.” Steve answers, a tentative smile on his lips, “Would it be bad if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Eddie isn't sure if he's still breathing and if his heart's still beating because the world is spinning too fast and-

His lips are on Steve's, testing, pressing, and there are hands in his hair, and the night becomes day, and everything feels right, feels good, feels like something finally clicks into place.

They kiss until their lungs hurt, kiss some more after a giggle fit. Kiss again until the door opens and Robbie is standing before them with wide eyes.

   "Oh, sh-oot! Hey, baby! Sorry, Eddie and I were just-"

   "Thank you, Santa!" Robbie yells against the sky and Eddie's heart explodes.

The worry on Steve's face makes way for confusion and Eddie feels bad for cheating because contrary to Steve, he's in on Robbie's secret.

   "Grandpa Wayne said to tell you we're having hot chocolate and cookies for dessert."

   "We'll be right there," Eddie answers for Steve, who still seems a little frozen in place.

Once the door closes behind her, Steve releases a shaky breath.

   "That- did not go like I thought it would."

For a moment, Eddie worries Steve's going to take it back. That the shock broke him out of whatever spell he was under.

But Steve kisses him again, before taking his hand to lead them back inside, where Wayne greets them with a smug smile. Eddie can practically hear the 'I told you so' but that's okay.

He's happy Wayne was right.

Happy that a little girl's wish aligned so perfectly with his own.

A Christmas wish come true.

[arc-misadventures]

I Don't Want To Take That Class...

Today was now, Jaune's second day at, Beacon Academy for, Beast Masters. And, Jaune's school experience was so far: Not that great.

Well, at least today he could learn what his classes would be. Beacon had a system where on the first day of school students would orient themselves with the school, get settled into their room, but most importantly they would show off their, Spiritual Beasts so the teachers knew what monster they had, and how to best teach them to master their, Spiritual Beasts powers.

Jaune wasn't sure what he would be learn, considering, Salem's powers were so fast, and how certain members of the teaching staff were giving him, and more importantly, they were giving, Salem some very questionable looks. Particularly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Salem had told, Jaune about her rather interesting past with the man. Only the brief rundown of things, but he figured it would be for the best if she explain everything in detail. Less he walked into something he didn't want to be in.

~~~

Jaune: Okay... Where am I...?

: Oh, hi, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm? Oh hey, Ruby.

Ruby: Here to find out what classes you're in?

Jaune: Yeah. Have you found out what classes you're in?

Ruby: Yep!

Jaune: Can you tell me what classes you have? Maybe we have one in common.

Ruby: Sure! I have classes for, Shadow, and Wind magic. But, since you are omni-elemental we'll probably have the same classes. You're probably have the same classes as everyone.

Jaune: Probably. I'll also be in the flight class since I can... well: Fly. Regeneration though... yeah...

Ruby: C-Can you actually regenerate...?

Jaune: Yes.

Ruby: Are you going to elaborate?

Jaune: Do you really want to know how that works?

Ruby: ...

Ruby: No...

Jaune: Smart lass.

Ruby: Okay, but can you tell me about.. Ooph?!

: There you are, Rubes! I've been looking all over for you!

Jaune was taken aback as an older, far more well endowed blonde woman put, Ruby in a headlock, and started giving her a little noogie.

Ruby: Yang?! Stop it!

Yang: Alright, alright I'll stop. I'll... Oh? Well hello~! You must be, Jaune Arc, the guy with the, Spiritual Deity!

Jaune: Yep, that's me. And, you are...?

Yang: Yang Xiao Long! This little twerps big sister! It's a pleasure to meet you!

Jaune: Pleasure.

Yang held out her hand for a hand shack, and Jaune moved his hand to shake it. But, it stopped when her hand was slapped away from his. Yang, and Ruby turned to look at her hand utterly perplexed. All the while, Jaune turned to left as he scowled at the air.

Jaune: Why did you do that? It was just a handshake!

Yang: Uhhh...?

Jaune: We just met her, what's so untrustworthy about her?

Yang: Who is he talking to?

Ruby: Oh! He's talking to his, Spiritual Beast!

Yang: They can talk to each other?

Ruby: Yeah, they do it all the time!

Yang: That's true? I thought that was just a joke?!

Ruby: It's true! Although, Jaune does look a little crazy since he's talking to 'nothing.'

Yang: Yeah, that does look a little...!?

Jaune: What?! Just because she's wearing a midriff, and showing off her belly does not mean she's a harlot?!

Yang: The fuck did you just call me?!

Jaune: Nothing! I did not call you anything at all! Salem called you a harlot though...

Yang: You wanna go missy?!

Yang pointed in the air, as she challenged a god to a fist fight.

Jaune: She's behind you.

Yang: Eh? OWW?!

Yang turned around, and then reeled back as she felt someone's finger flicked her forehead.

Yang: D-Did she just flick my forehead...?

Jaune: Yeah, sorry about that. Salem is... possessive to say the least. She doesn't like it when other girls get too close to me.

Yang: Sounds like a possessive wife.

Jaune: If you knew why she's so possessive of me... you... you wouldn't blame her... that much.

Yang: Are you going to tell me?

Jaune: Best you don't know. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to learn what my classes will be.

Jaune quickly left to go see what classes he was placed into, leaving the sisters alone.

RY: ...

Yang: Well... He seems like a pretty nice guy... It's a bit weird to have an invisible girlfriend batting everyone away from him though.

Ruby: She's actually his wife!

Yang: Really?

Yang: It's still weird that she does that.

Ruby: Yeah it is weird...

~~~

Jaune: Do you see my name on any of these lists, Salem?

Salem was floating over head the crowd of students, searching for her beloveds name among the. She was phasing through the ones who were to close to the board overhead for those she couldn't see.

Salem: Afraid not my love. I've scoped all of these lists, and I haven't found your name on any of them.

Jaune: That's not good...

Salem: Oh, and why is that?

Jaune: Because of you, Salem, it means that they've no doubt come up with a special class of some sorts exclusively for me... And, since i am one of the rare few to have a, Spiritual Deity as my, Spiritual Beast they'll want to run some tests on us.

Salem: Are you sure of that?

Jaune: It's been over four thousand years since the first person became a, Spiritual Beast Master. And, since there have only been just over two dozen, Spiritual Masters who have formed a bound with a, Spiritual Deity. And, to make matters worse, I am the first person you've ever formed a bound with. They are going to run some tests on us.

Salem: These tests... I will have to show myself before them then... This feels like a trap...

Jaune: But, is it for me, or is it for you?

Salem: That doesn't matter! You are my husband! If they come after one of us, then are coming after the both of us, and if they dare harm so much a single golden lock of hair from your head, I will introduce them all, I will remind, Ozma of what is a, Spiritual Deity's FURY!

Jaune watched as a whirlwind of elemental powers swirled around, Salem. Fire, ice, lighting, earth, shadows, and light rage in a kaleidoscope of raw power hang in the air about her. It was a beautiful sight to behold, his beloved showing off the full range of her powers.

To him that is.

Jaune: Salem, you look beautiful, honey. But, everyone is looking at me like I'm crazy since they can't see the, Oni Queen making a storm of elemental powers in the air, they just see the elemental storm ball.

Salem: Eh...?

Salem looked to her side seeing a crowd of students looking on, some in awe, others in fear.

Salem: Whoops...

The storm slowly faded away as, Salem nervously floated down in front of, Jaune. She bashfully looked away from him as a fierce blush was spreading across her face.

Salem: Sorry...

Jaune: It's okay, Salem. It was a good way to flex on everyone.

Jaune rubbed his hand along, Salem's cheek as she swooned into his hand. This loving moment between couples was swiftly brought to the end, when the were interrupted when someone unexpected appeared.

: That you are, Mr. Arc. Lady, Salem...?

Standing before them was the deputy headmistresses of, Beacon Academy. Who looked rather cross...

Jaune: Hi, Professor Goodwitch! C-Can we help you with anything?

Glynda: Can you.. two come with me. Headmaster Ozpin wishes to have a word with you.

Jaune: About our classes?

Glynda: Yes, since you have made a contract with a, Spiritual Deity we've had to come up a unique set of classes for you to do.

Jaune: I expected as much...

Glynda: Will you come with me so we may discuss it?

Jaune: Alright then... We'll come...

Salem: Are you sure this is a wise idea, Jaune?

Jaune: Nope, but what else can we do?

Salem: Improvise?

Jaune: That'll work...

~~~

"Ding~!"

The elevator doors slowly opened, and Jaune, and Salem were greeted to the sight of a trio of teachers, Jaune didn't want to see.

Before him was, Professor Peach, Dr. Oobaleck, and lastly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Out of the three, Professor Peach was the one, Jaune was the least suspicious about. She was a medical doctor, so she was probably here to see about his regeneration abilities. He could understand her curiosity about that, everyone was curious when it came to his regenerative abilities. However, based upon how she wanted to test these abilities, that's where he started to grow cautious of her.

Dr. Oobaleck put, Salem's nerves on end, and in turn, Jaune's as well. He was a scientist, so of course he was curious about the capabilities of, Salem's powers. But, Jaune had read enough science fiction books, and shows to know that the most dangerous scientist there is, is the one who was trying to test the bounds of science, and no one was there to tell them this one simple thing: "No."

So many terrible events that happened because science gone crazy could have been solved if someone just said, "No, bad scientist, no!"

And, lastly he had, Headmaster Ozpin. Out of the three, Jaune was most cautious of this man. Salem had told him plenty of things about, Ozpin, and the results of his, Spirit Curse. So, unless everyone didn't behave. Things were going to become very bad, very, very quickly.

~~~

Ozpin: Ahh... Hello, Mr. Arc. Do you know why we brought you here today?

Jaune: Considering that I didn't see my name on the list of classes, I assume you asked me here to tell me what my classes are?

Ozpin: You are correct, Mr. Arc. Because of your unique circumstances, being partnered with a, Spiritual Deity, and all. Along with your wide variety of spiritual powers, we had to come up with some unique classes to teach you, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: I expected as much... what classes will you be teaching me?

Ozpin: Well, start with, Professor Peach. Professor?

Peach: Thank you... Hello, Mr. Arc, I am Professor Padma Peach. We won't be having too many classes together. Mostly we'll be having tests.

Jaune: Trying to determine the capabilities of my, Regeneration abilities?

Peach: Why, yes! I am most looking forward to learn how that ability of yours works!

Jaune: That's one of us...

Ozpin: Bart.

Oobaleck: Hello, Mr. Arc! My name is, Doctor Bartholomew Oobaleck! I will be teaching you how to control your basic elemental powers! Earth, fire, water, and air! I have never taught an omni elemental before! My fellow teacher, Peter Port will also be assisting me during your teaching! He was busy monitoring the students so he couldn't be here! But, I can assure you, he is most excited to teach you as well!

Jaune: O-Okay...?

Ozpin: And, lastly, Mr. Arc, I will be teaching you how to use your light, and dark magical powers. We will be dividing these class for three to be spent learning ight, and dark magic, and the rest will be spend on your other elemental powers. Professor Peach will only be available during your other elemental powers. But, that should offer her enough time to study your regeneration capabilities.

Ozpin: We will be sending you a timetable of these, and your various other classes you will be taking. We look forward to teaching you, Mr. Arc!

Jaune took in his words with a grain, no, a heap of salt. Professor's Port, and Peach, and Doctor Oobaleck all teaching him in tandem made sense, he was omni elemental after all. But, having a class all alone with, Ozpin.

Jaune mulled over this news, but as he looked to the side, and came to a simple conclusion.

Jaune: I don't want to take that class, Headmaster... No, I won't be taking that class...

Ozpin: Excuse me?

Jaune: Deputy Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch already teaches classes on dark, and light magic, I want her to teach me those classes, not you.

Ozpin: What are you talking about, I am the most skilled teacher of those elements the world over. I can assure you, I can help you master those powers.

Jaune: And, I can assure you, Headmaster... We will not be taking any classes with you...

Ozpin raised his mug to his face to take a drink, but paused as he took in his wrods.

Ozpin: 'We?'

(Smash.)

Ozpin: What was...?

Ozpin dipped his drink to far, and his drink spilled out of his mug. But, instead of a splatter of how bean water, a solid chunk of coffee ice fell out, and shattered on top of his desk.

Ozpin: What the?!

Ice. Ice emanated from the floor around, Jaune. The temperature in the room fell rapidly, one could see their air as they breathed. For all, but one that is. Jaune stood before, Ozpin, his body was at ease, calm. He didn't seem to be bothered by the coldness building in the room, or it didn't appear that the cold was affecting him at all.

Jaune: Now you've done it, Headmaster...

Ozpin: Done... Done what?

: Not taking my 'hint!'

Within a fraction of a second, The Oni Queen, Salem appeared before Ozpin. She was floating in the air before him, a calm smile played across her lips as the tempest of the storm loomed over the, Headmaster.

Ozpin: Hint... What hint...?

Salem: You think I flicked your forehead as some sort of 'playful teasing?' Hmm...?

Salem cocked her head to the side, her voice was loud for all to hear. Jaune could tell she without seeing her face that she was giving him a cold, an emotionless toothy smile. And while, Jaune knew she had a beautiful smile, it was a predators smile. She bore fangs that could rip through metal with ease, and when she showed off her fangs, the likely hood she was threatening you was very, very high.

Salem: No, that was a warning... a warning to tell you to keep your hands to yourself...

Ozpin: Keep my hands to myself...?

Salem: Yes. For it has come to my attention that you do not seem to remember why you were cursed with immortality. And, we are all too willing to remind you of why that all happened. But, if you dare touch a single hair on my lovers head. I will show you why my daughter held me back the last time you received divine punishment! Understood, Ozma.

Ozpin's body has slowly begun to freeze to his chair as, Salem lowered the temperature more, and more to the point his, Aura's protective barrier was failing to withstand the extreme cold. With a shaky, and cold breath, he answered her.

Ozpin: O-O-Okay...! I-l-l-leave you two alone!

Salem: Good~! Now then...

Salem soon floated over, and appeared before, Glynda, the pair locked eyes before, Salem gave, Glynda a toothy half smile, before she returned to address, Ozpin.

Salem: Glynda here will be teaching, Jaune how to master his light, and dark magic works. Understood?

Ozpin: Y-Y-Yes...

Salem: Good~! Now, let go, Jaune. I'm done with this worm.

Jaune: Alright then. Goodbye, Ms. Goodwitch, Professor, Peach, Doctor Oobaleck. I look forward to seeing you in class.

With that the pair walked into the elevator, and left. Leaving behind the three freezing, and frozen teachers behind.

Glynda: Ozpin... I do not care for whatever schemes you are planning, but I will take you down before she gets a chance to if you push things too far! Understood?

Ozpin: P-Perfectlly... Miss Goodwitch.

Glynda: Good!

Ozpin: Now then... B-Bart?

Oobalek: Yes?

Ozpin: Can you call, Port up here at once... I-I-I'm frozen, and can't move...?!

Oobaleck: On it!

Well, Jaune now would have his class schedule, and Salem had given, Ozpin's final warning. The school year was finally about to begin for real!

Hopefully things didn't go to hell too quickly...

[vi-steponmeplease]

BILLIE BOSSA NOVA

REQUEST: hii i was wondering if u can do like a story with billie on how like billie and the reader are in the pool and start to make out (pls end in smut ☺️) also like dom billie and i love your stories SMM

a/n: love this request, and tysm ily!! also i changed the setting to a jacuzzi since that's steamier imo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairings - flirtacious!billie x fem!reader

genre - smut

synopsis: a long-awaited romantic getaway to a hawaiian resort with your girlfriend leaves you craving her in more ways than one.

tw: softdom!billie, sub!reader, praise kink, billie's a bit of a tease, semi-public pool sex, light choking, reader & billie are in an established relationship

word count: 1.6K

a lot can change in twenty seconds a lot can happen in the dark

⟡

i'm not sentimental but there's somethin' 'bout the way you look tonight

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Vacations have never really been your thing, as the timing never seems convenient enough for you to be free. But when you and your girlfriend finally manage to carve out time for a well-deserved break from work, you waste no time whisking her away to a luxurious resort in Hawaii.

"Look, Bils, there are so many activities here!" you gush, waving a colorful pamphlet excitedly in Billie’s face.

She chuckles, gently swatting your hand away before resting hers back on the steering wheel. "Tell me all about them, babe. Jus' let me keep my eyes on the road so we actually make it there in one piece, okay?"

"I wanna go swimming first, and then we can—" You abruptly cut yourself off, gasping as your eyes catch something on the pamphlet. "Oh my God, no, we’re going horseback riding first!"

Billie laughs, her voice light and melodic as she takes in your excitement. She spares you a brief glance, her eyes brimming with affection, before turning her attention back to the road. Her hand finds its way to your thigh, a gentle squeeze accompanying the smile playing on her lips. “Almost there.”

When you arrive, Billie pulls into valet parking, smoothly handing over her keys before wrapping an arm around your waist. With the other, she effortlessly wheels your shared suitcase, her presence reassuring as you both check in at the resort.

Key in hand, the two of you make your way to your room. Once inside, you immediately flop onto the bed, letting out a contented sigh as the crisp, cool sheets embrace your body. The scent of vanilla and coconut wafts through the air, calming and intoxicating all at once.

Billie leans down, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that makes your heart flutter. She then takes your hands, gently pulling you up to sit. "Come on, pretty girl," she says with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The horses are waiting."

In hues of amber and crimson, the day takes its final bow, painting the sky in the tender colors of twilight. A soft breeze brushes over your exposed shoulders, a soothing contrast to the lukewarm embrace of the jacuzzi water rippling around your figure.

The quiet patter of footsteps reaches your ears, followed by a gentle splash as someone joins you. You glance to the side and spot Billie, clad in a pink bikini, her calm smile radiating under the soft glow of the yellow string lights that frame the area. Your gaze instinctively trails over her figure, your throat tightening as the light dances across her skin, accentuating her beauty.

She slides into the water beside you, her entrance sending a cascade of bubbles around her. She lets out a blissful sigh, leaning back against the edge. Her eyes flutter shut, giving in to the soothing warmth of the water enveloping her.

Her arms coil around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You wrap your arms around her shoulders with a playful grin, leaning in to press your lips to hers in a kiss that quickly turns passionate. Her hands trail down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as your legs instinctively wrap around her waist.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, her breath warm against your lips. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had you all to myself.”

You chuckle softly, tilting your head and flipping your hair aside to take in the intense longing in her ocean-blue eyes. Before you can respond, Billie claims your lips again, this time with a raw urgency. Her hands slide to your ass, cupping and squeezing with a teasing firmness that draws a soft gasp from you.

“Missed this ass,” she murmurs, her lips now trailing down your neck. Her kisses deepen into marks of purple, each one a possessive reminder of her touch. A quiet moan slips from your lips as her damp hand slides up to your neck, gripping gently and pulling you closer. Your head tilts back, granting her full access, surrendering completely to the moment.

“Missed your obedience, baby,” she whispers, her lips brushing against the delicate skin above your bikini top. Her words send a shiver down your spine as her mouth grazes the curve of your breasts. “You’re always such a good girl for me.”

Heat pools between your legs at the sultry tone of her words, and your desperation grows as you subtly begin to grind against her, hoping she won’t notice. But Billie, ever attentive, quickly catches on, her firm grip halting your movements with ease.

“What do you need, pretty girl?” she rasps, her voice teasingly low, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Use your words.”

“Please, Bils,” you manage, your voice a trembling whisper as you squirm in her grasp. “Touch me.”

“You need my fingers?” she asks, her teasing tone making your breath hitch. You nod quickly, your desperation clear. Her hands move with deliberate slowness to your string bikini, untying the knots and draping the fabric over the rim of the jacuzzi. “How bad do you need ’em?”

“So bad… Need you, Billie." Your words slip out in an unintentional whimper as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Her calloused fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, taunting circles that draw a sigh of relief from you. The sensation is momentary, though, as she pulls back, leaving you aching for more.

Before you can protest, her plump lips capture yours in a heated kiss, her tongue exploring yours as her fingers slip inside you. The stretch is perfect, filling you as her kiss muffles the moans spilling from your lips. Every movement of her fingers sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, her dominance grounding you completely in the moment.

Ever so slightly, Billie curls her fingers, reaching deeper spots that send jolts of pleasure rippling through you. Louder moans spill from your lips as your grip on her shoulders tightens, your head falling back in surrender to the intense sensations.

She bites her lip, barely suppressing the satisfied smirk threatening to spread as she watches your face contort with unrestrained bliss.

“You like that, baby?” she purrs, her voice dripping with pride—both in herself for knowing exactly how to unravel you and in you for being so perfectly compliant, following her every command. “Want me to go faster?”

“Y-Yes, faster,” you stammer, your voice trembling as your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the ecstasy coursing through you. Billie doesn’t hesitate, quickening the rhythm of her fingers, each thrust building a delicious pressure deep within you.

With practiced ease, she unties the knot of your bikini top, letting it fall away before her mouth claims your nipple. Her tongue flicks and swirls over the sensitive bud, her lips suckling just enough to make your back arch instinctively. Every motion of her hands and mouth leaves you inching closer to the edge, completely at her mercy.

"Look at you—such a pretty girl, begging to feel my fingers inside you," Billie murmurs, her voice muffled as her lips remain latched around your nipple.

You clench around her fingers, your body responding instinctively to the relentless pace of her thrusts. The sensation builds to an almost unbearable peak, drawing out louder moans. “Close…” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. Billie takes your breathless admission as her cue, quickening her pace and adding a third finger, the stretch sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core.

“Oh my—fuck,” you groan, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as her fingers reach deeper, hitting spots that make your body shudder. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Billie’s voice drips with praise, a mix of pride and adoration as her fingers work you over without mercy. “You want to come?”

“Billie, please,” you whimper, your voice thick with desperation. The sound of her name spilling from your lips like a prayer makes her groan, a low, primal sound that only adds to the intensity of the moment.

With her free hand, she grips the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth, her movements commanding and possessive. The overwhelming sensation of her lips, her fingers, and her presence pushes you over the edge, and you unravel around her with a loud, pleasured moan, your body trembling as waves of relief crash through you.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy pants as your body finally gives in, trembling from the intensity. Billie’s arms wrap around you instantly, steadying and holding you close. Her warmth and strength are a comforting anchor as you melt against her.

She grins softly, reaching up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You did amazing, baby,” she murmurs, her voice tender and full of affection. Her fingers trail over your skin, rubbing soothing circles around the marks she left, a quiet gesture of care. With skilled ease, she ties your bikini top back in place, shielding your sensitive skin from the cool air.

Once you’re steady, the two of you make your way back to your room, the short walk punctuated by the easy intimacy you share. Billie can’t resist teasing you, her tone light. “So, you still up for that tango class?” she asks, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, reminding you of how excited you’d been earlier.

“Fuck no,” you reply with a chuckle, your voice warm despite your exhaustion. Dropping your head against her shoulder, you nuzzle into the crook of her neck, letting her warmth envelop you. “Sleep’s calling my name.”

[ryleektv]

Can you write something for Lorenzo Berkshire and have it be where he love it when you wear pink? Like it’s his favorite color on you! Like one day when y’all are in his or your room and y’all are making out and then he sees you wearing a pink bra and then he checks to see if it’s a set and it is! So then it just leads to smut! If you don’t want to write this I’d understand.

AHHHHH omg the fact that i got this the SAME day i dressed up in all pink to go watch wicked is INSANE (wicked is absolutely amazing btw) like full glinda coded eyeshadow and pink eyeliner and everything. also i am sick (AGAIN, ive quite literally been sick constantly for the past 3 months bc my immune system might as well not exist)

anyways i hope this is good enough pooks

Favorite Color

(on his favorite girl)

bf!lorenzo berkshire x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, ummm biting?, whipped Lorenzo, not proofread, lowkey not Toxic!Lorenzo??? SUMMARY: Lorenzo's favorite color was famously red. But on you? Pink all the way.

WC: 1.4k

"Hey, princess- okay then." Lorenzo stopped in the doorway, his hands up as he dodged the shoe you threw in his direction. "Why're you so pissed off, hm?"

You groaned out incoherent swears at him before flopping over onto your back, leaving you bed sheets warm where you had been. "What do you want?"

"To spend time with my beautiful sweet girlfriend and find out who pissed in her tea?" He questioned as he took a careful step forward. "What can I do, honey?"

"I don't know." You mumbled with a heavy sigh. "Don't hate me, but I don't think I wanna do date night out tonight."

Lorenzo took another few steps before sitting down at the edge of the bed, his thumb delicately brushing your cheek.

"I'd never hate you. You sure you don't want to go out? I know you love getting all dressed up to show off."

You watched him carefully as his fingers traced over your t-shirt. You'd gotten half way ready, your hair and makeup done perfectly, before you realized that not only was your dress in need to be washed, but it was pouring out, and your picnic date was a complete waste.

Lorenzo, of course, was quick to call and ask if you wanted to just go get dinner at a restaurant instead, to which you agreed. But, none of your other clothes seemed good enough, and to make matters even worse, you found out last minute that you flunked on an important Potion's exam.

"I don't even have anything to wear," You complained quietly, resting your head on his thigh and tugging the blankets back up so you'd stay warm.

He looked over at the piles of clothes thrown everywhere, but like a smart man, didn't say anything.

"Can we just stay in tonight?"

"Of course,"

"That is not realistic, I mean, who the hell stabs someone like that? And- and blood doesn't just spurt our like that unless you hit an artery." Lorenzo tutted, still tracing circles on your shoulder with the tip of his index finger. "That's just not how it works."

You looked up at him with furrowed brows, your head rested on his chest as you watched the horror movie on the screen with your boyfriend. "Why the hell do you suddenly know so much about the logics of stabbing? Should I be concerned, Enzo?"

"No, I'm just saying. There's science behind this stuff, and if the were really that interested in spending what I assume to be millions on making this movie, you'd think they would at least put a little research into it."

"You're psychotic."

"It turns you on, though." He looked down at you as he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and turned back to the television and watched as the killer proceeded to drag the protagonists dead body towards the woods.

"Deny it, maybe?"

You burst out laughing and looked up at Enzo who was watching you with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh, baby, I'm not denying shit."

Lorenzo's brown eyes stared down at you with a sparkle you could recognize from a mile away, his lips brushing up into a smirk.

"Enzo," You whispered, fully intending to spur him on.

His lips immediately crashed to yours, his hands tugging you closer as yours went to his hair.

You let out a soft sigh, eliciting a quiet groan from Lorenzo as he seemed to try to pull you impossibly closer to him. You could feel him already touching all over you, exploring every inch of your body as if it was his first time near a woman.

Still continuing your quickly escalating make-out session, he maneuvered the two of you so he was propped up over your body, his teeth nipping at you bottom lip before his tongue met yours in a familiar dance.

His hands came back to your hair, stroking over it as you pulled at him, both of you already breathing heavily into each other's mouths, gasping in each other's air as it got hotter.

And because Lorenzo would rather die than do it himself, you gently pushed him up so the two of you could breathe properly for a moment, his wild eyes staring down into yours as he gasped for breath, his lips swollen and wet as he grinned.

"Go lock the door," You murmured, four words that drove him mad, quickly scrambling off of you and practically running to the door as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

If only he'd put as much effort into his school work as he did locking the door when you'd ask.

You sat up slightly, pulling the oversized t-shirt over your head to reveal the pink lace bra you'd planned to wear for your restaurant date.

Lorenzo shuddered out a breath as his eyes dropped to the bra, lips parted slightly as his eyes softened. "Fucking hell,"

His gaze hovered over your breasts before looking up at you with a questioning whisper, "Is it?"

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" You grabbed his belt loop with your middle finger, pulling him over to you before rejoining your lips with his as he climbed back over you, smiling into the kiss as you lifted your hips to help as he slowly pulled down your shorts.

You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching pink panties, Enzo's fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit over the fabric as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." He mumbled against your lips as he slowly pushed the fabric of your panties to the side and easily pushed two fingers into you.

You let out a gasping moan, pulling on his hair as he curled his fingers hard inside of you, picking up the pace as flashes of heat grew all over your body in pulses.

"Enzo- shit- fuck me, please just-" You cut off with a whimper. "Just fuck me already." You practically pleaded as your eyes welled up with tears at the pleasure of his fingers curling perfectly inside you, his thumb starting up rough circles on your clit.

Lorenzo must have been like a dog in heat tonight, because he was clearly too desperate to make you beg, instead just undoing his belt and pulling off his pants and boxers faster than you'd ever seen him before.

His tip pressed against your entrance as he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a groan as he slipped in, your back arching at the perfect fit.

"Oh, fuck, Enzo," You breathed, arms wrapping over your shoulders as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, gently biting at your flesh as he sped up. "You feel so good, princess."

Your head tipped back as you felt his fingers speeding up as they circled your clit again, making the knot in your stomach form far faster than usual.

You pressed your hips back against his, meeting it time with his thrusts and pushing him deeper inside of you as you listened to his moans pressed into your skin, your own mouth agape as you whined at the sharp tug of your skin between his teeth.

"Oh, Gods, Enzo- Enzo, I'm so fucking close." You moaned into his hair, nails digging into his tensed back as you closed your eyes, legs shaking slightly.

"C'mon, I've got you." He pulled away from your neck, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I am too."

With one more thrust you tipped over the edge, vision going blank as you gave way to the waves of please, heat coursing through your body as if your blood was replaced with lava, chest heaving as tears slipped past your waterline, rolling down your cheeks before Lorenzo gently kissed them away.

You wrapped your legs tighter around Lorenzo as he was about to pull out, interrupting his panicked glance, "I'll get a vial." You breathed, with less than a second difference before he was finishing inside of you, the both of you moaning at the feeling.

Lorenzo flopped down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face buried in your chest. "I love you,"

You brushed back his hair with the tips of your fingers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too, Enzo."

i kinda hate this too but thats okay bc i wrote it was 3am and thats excuse enough

requests are open as always and i promise i am in fact still working on a slytherin boys christmas im just severely behind

[catgirlstalin]

Hi! I hope it's okay to ask this but would you happen to know any books on Stalin that don't repeat the same old stuff about him being a bloodthirsty dictator etc.? I wish to learn from more nuanced and anti-anticommunist sources since I'm learning about communism and ussr rn, and you seem to be someone who might know about these! Thanks if you're able to answer!

hii of course im happy to recommend stuff :3 mutuals feels free to add stuff as well

Another View of Stalin. Ludo Martens (1994) – one of my go to recommendations, it goes into the most commonly brought up issues such as collectivization, the great purge, and the molotov-ribbentrop pact

Stalin: History and Critique of a Black Legend. Dominico Losurdo (2008) – another go to; in addition to addressing historical facts and myths, this one also criticizes the concept of 'totalitarianism', and the resulting conflation of fascism with communism as equally bad (something that is still done to this day, see 'horseshoe theory')

those two i would say are the most prominent books specifically about him, and for good reason as they cover the most important myths about stalin

another author ive had recommended to me who has multiple books about stalin and the ussr is grover furr, but i havent read any of his works yet

also while this one isnt specifically about stalin as a person, i also wanna throw in The Soviets Expected it by Anna Louise Strong. It was published in 1942 and covers the years leading up to and including the second world war. its not really an analysis, as anna louise strong was not a historian, but a reporter who lived in the ussr at the time and she reported a lot on the living conditions and experiences of the people which provides a really interesting view into the 1930s and early 1940s in the ussr. its also a rather short and easy read

then theres of course also first hand accounts from people who knew him, like Molotov Remembers (done in a sort of interview style, the author is anti-stalin but molotovs accounts are interesting nonetheless), or Next to Stalin: Notes of a Bodyguard (also very short, not particularly well written but interesting and at times also entertaining)

also in my opinion one thing that also provides some insight into how stalin was and how he thought is just to read his own works. theres a whole collection on marxists.org

i find his interviews fairly interesting to get a bit of insight into his thinking, and theyre very short and easy to read

Interview with H.G. Wells Interview with Emil Ludwig Interview with Roy Howard

i hope some of this will be interesting to you!! have fun with your reading, theres a lot to learn and discover out there

[kazusys]

SPOILERS DOWN BELOW FOR FIC ABOVE!

every single time i read one of your works, i am furthermore convinced that you are a GENIUS, no; a PRODIGY.

BECAUSE WHAT???

okay, first, to all the female/any other gendered people who read ‘feminine male reader’ and decided not to read because it’s not your preferred way to read, which i WHOLEHEARTEDLY understand, PLEASE still consider reading this. this is a work of ART, and doesn’t, if i remember correctly, actually refer to you as any pronouns except for excerpts here and there of you and scaramouche addressing your gender. i go by she/her pronouns and i still find this fic to be absolutely GOLDEN.

now, to the lovely spectacular ari…

the best way to describe all your fics would be using the quality/quantity thing, except i'd say they’re both heavily full of hard work put into every single word i read, and in which it is extremely large in counting.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE the backstory— i’ve said this before numerous times, but i LOVE the way you give the reader their own character and how you write so that it feels like they’re not an npc and actually have some emotions and desires to fulfill!

ALSO, THE STORY WITH THE LAKE & VILLAGE?? and the way you incorporated that story into when scara was running around looking for us? absolute PERFECTION. it gave off the dramatic feelings and built up on the climax— the way you wrote that part is gonna stick with me for a LONG, LONG while.

and the end— scara doubting that you’re dead and the betrayal he feels when he realizes you are in fact deceased, had me thinking that he probably knew deep down that you offed yourself, and is probably going to blame himself as he keeps on living. i mean, he already felt as if he weren’t enough because of his mother and her servants and such— what more that his love left within their own will to leave him because they had nothing to live for on earth?

that’ll really mess someone up, thinking that you weren’t enough because the person you loved with all your heart couldn’t stay to be with you for as long as they lived until they eventually leave inevitably. i truly feel bad for scara :(

i wanna make a pt. 2 to this fic, or req. you to make a pt. 2, because this storyline is actually SO AMAZING. i don’t wanna stress you out though, because writing 10k fics is a lotta hard work and you deserve a long hiatus for all the masterpieces you come up with!!! 💗🙏

OVERALL THIS GETS A SOLID 10/10 (if we’re not going over the limit!) FOR ME BECAUSE THIS FIC IS ABSOLUTELY ICONIC WHEN IT COMES TO ANGST FIGHT ME IF YOU THINK OTHERWISE

(i had to chill on the all caps because i wanted my words to sink in to people :] I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH I COULD EAT IT AND BE FULL FOR A YEAR SISJDHSJSJDJD I’M SO SORRY TUMBLR DIDN’T NOTIFY ME HOW DARE THEY 😭)

love u sm ari ‼️ KEEP BEING AWESOME & BEING YOU!!

The Oddities of Human Nature | Kabukimono

Kabukimono x Feminine Male Reader

Warnings: Wooo, where do we start? Major character death ( Reader ), implied suicide ( It's up in arms, but there are hints in the fic that reader may have drowned themselves in a lake ), self harm implied, sexual assault is loosely referenced ( only one sentence mentions it and I don't go into detail at all as to not trigger anyone ), themes of depression is referenced all throughout this fic, lots of blood is mentioned towards the end and I go into depth ( or try to ) in describing death so gore warning, the timeline is all fucked up but for the sake of the fic making sense, this takes place before Wanderer's three betrayals, reader uses they/him pronouns, finally, long story ( around 10k words ) under the cut. With all that said, happy reading!

A/N: This was a big hill for me to cross, but I'm glad I managed to do it! I juggled a lot of elements that I'm not familiar with so I'm sorry if this is all over the place. That aside, I found that a lot of the songs I listened while I was writing matched this fic pretty well! ( ..I also realized out that I maaaayyy have spilled a a little bit of myself and my personal struggles into Y/n, but don't read into that too much, okay? Okay. ) This fic is on the darker side of what I normally write, but I hope all who peep will enjoy themselves! :D ...Now I'ma go finish this finals project I got before I fuck up my grade-

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys, and @saioratral

Humans are odd creatures. They do things that may otherwise inconvenience them for absolutely no reason.

They could have a broken leg, but will still find the time to entertain friends by going out. They could be holed up in their room doing important work, but will still stop and greet their beloved when they arrive home. They could stumble upon a body in a lake and still fish it out and attempt to resuscitate it. It's strange, but what's even stranger are those humans. You know, the ones who would do things like that for a complete stranger without batting an eye.

"Are you alright?" A soft chirp echoed—one like a feather that surprisingly didn't get swept away by the harsh winds.

It was nothing like her voice.

Upon looking up, indigo hues fill with intricate floral patterns weaved delicately in a circle. Its varying colors twist and intertwine, filling the circle and providing shade and leaving those who fall under it to marvel at its beauty—which didn't soil or gray despite the downpour of rain that hit it.

That said, having been completely consumed in the art of the umbrella, it took another soft call to snap out of the trance..only to be sucked right back into it upon gazing up.

 "I noticed that you have been sitting in the rain for quite some time now. That isn't healthy, you know?" Their voice matched their features; smooth like a porcelain doll, but not nearly as tough as one; gentle, just like the silk that covered their body.

 "Do you have nowhere to go?" Upon hearing the question, the boy’s lips—which were formerly tucked into a neat line—dipped. It was unnoticeable against his pale skin, but the tender eyes that stared down at him seemed to be sharp like a hawks' and noticed it right away.

 "I suppose that means yes."

Their hand reached out to him after saying that and he found himself leaning away instinctively, making him susceptible to the sky's sorrow which drowned his already slick hair in even more chilling rain.

He's immediately saved again, and this time, he was able to watch his savior in action as they tilt their hand, tilting their gorgeous artwork forward enough to completely shield him again albeit at the cost of their own protection.

The rain took pleasure in dousing their hair, deepening it's color a little from the sheer amount it intakes. Ultimately, it's unable to take all of it and falls down on all sides, dripping down their skin, their eyelashes, nose, and lips, to where all the water meets at a point at their chin and drops from it to the wet soil at their feet like a leaky faucet.

Nevertheless, he watched a smile stretch across their face. A sight that he had begun to believe could only look so beautiful on a wandering snow spirit.

 "Please, young sir. Come with me. I have a place that could shield the both of us from the rain for the night.."

And in a trance, he—though tentatively—reaches forward and puts his hand in theirs. The warmth that touched him in that moment immediately shattered the illusion that hypnotized him and he blinks upon finding himself being tugged along by the hand. It brought on a perplexed swirl in the abyss he called a stomach and spurred him to ask the golden question, "Why are you doing this?"

And that question earned him another golden smile, unfortunately only for a quick second when they glanced back at him. It was never answered, and despite that, it didn't bother him.

Nothing did in that moment as the only thing he could focus on was the heat that spread throughout his hand which radiated from their palm.

Humans are odd creatures. They go against the purposes given to them at birth for the simplest reasons.

 "You're a man?" Was the question that filled the silence, his words filled with his almost accusing tone at the face of their casual confession.

You didn't mind, putting on the smile of a saint as tanzanite hues scrutinize and judge you as if you were some complex painting in a museum.

 "Yes, I am," You answered simply, and he once again, eyes you up and down with eyes full of disbelief. As if you had just revealed that you had a second head or something. You weren't offended. Compared to the other stares you've been given in the past, his seemed rather merciful.

 "Why do you dress like that if you're a boy?" He asks after a while; another rather offensive question that he asks with utmost innocence.

 "Because it makes me feel nice," You reply simply, and to that, your new friend looked utterly perplexed. As if you had just given him intricate, complex instructions on how to defeat the shogunate. From that reaction, you assume he was probably raised in a rather conformist household.

That said, his genuine confusion felt like a breath of cool air hitting your face after venturing days in a scorching desert, as sad as that is to admit.

 "Where are your weapons? Your armor? Your mannerisms and speech let me know you come from a noble home, so where are your servants and concubine? What do you do for work?" He shot out questions as if he only had a few grains of sand left in his hourglass. It was like he feared that if he didn't ask all his questions now—and all at once—he'd never get an answer to them. Not that you'd be so cruel as to leave your curious new acquaintance so bewildered.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't have any such means of protection," You start off slowly, but as your eyes trail down at the two needles in your slender hands—needles which had thin threads of silk woven around the points of them—you found yourself chuckling to yourself, "Though if you'd ask my father, he'd tell you that my reason for that is because I lack the determination and courage to tread the path of a proper warrior — He was a high-ranking samurai for the majority of my youth, you see.."

"As for the servants and..consorts…they're really not my thing. I find bossing someone around and using people to flaunt my own status and wealth to be rather brutish. Though, I will admit I'm quite familiar with the practices. Heh, I was practically raised by my fathers' wives and female servants growing up. Maybe that's why.."

You pause, and in the end, you shake your thought away instead of voicing the rest of it aloud. It wasn't important to the conversation at hand anyways.

 "Digressing from that, my ways of making money aren't as noble as my family's either. In fact, one would say it's quite pitiful in comparison; once a week, I go out into the nearby town and I sell my creations. Stuffed animals, knitted clothing, excess crops, and the like. I don't make all the money in the world, but I make more than enough to get by as you can see," And you flick your wrist absentmindedly at one of the corners of your room, mindlessly gesturing at whatever filled the space to better prove your point.

Your guest had been struck silent once again. It seemed he was still rather muddled. You understand it. Like many you've encountered, you were probably an enigma to him, one willing to go against all that has been taught and practiced for centuries just because of simple ideations and pleasures that someone such as yourself should never enjoy in the first place.

..Or so you thought. As you gazed up at your guest, his face made you unsure of what he was truly thinking at that moment. It was something you hadn't seen before—unlike those judge-filled, disgusted, and even pitiful gazes you had been given by many in the past. It sparked your curiosity, causing you to ask him the golden question that had laid dormant at the back of your mind.

 "Does any of this.. Do I bother you?"

His response came delayed, but you found his answer that came more valuable than actual gold. More relieving than any cool breeze or sweet treat. More rewarding than any war won or title granted. More comforting than any of the stormy nights that distracted you from your whirlwind of thoughts.

And, oddly enough, such a response was quite simple. Only three words, in fact.

 "Not at all."

Humans are odd creatures, but they can be patient and forgiving at times. Plus, being the warm-blooded creatures that are allows them the blessing of a naturally-warm, comfortable body.

 "Crap," The cursed utterance left the lips of a mouth who's felt nothing but the bitter tang of frustration coat its tongue all afternoon. The uncivilized profanity did nothing to soothe the taste in his mouth nor did it smoothen out the crinkles made by his furrowed brows. It didn't even relieve the tremble of anger in his blood-pricked hands or the aggression of his movements as his fingertips worked a string of tangles with the needles he was holding.

Knitting is awful. How do people find this relaxing? Ever since he's started, he's felt nothing but vexation, pain, and embarrassment! Not only that, but he's made zero progress after so long that he's practically forgotten what he was supposed to be making in the first place! He hates—no, despises this with his entire being!

 "Having a bit of trouble?" He heard you ask, and somehow, half of his stress fell away like a slab of rock on the side of a mountain just from hearing your voice. He doesn't get why you have such powers over him seeming as you're a complete stranger. ..Was your voice charmed by some kind of magic perhaps? Were you possibly a god in disguise?

Whatever the reason was, he found himself praying that you never stop talking if he were to ever find out.

 "Here, let me show you a trick," Your breath was fanning his ear before he knew it and your skin was warming his shortly afterwards. He froze in place, still and quiet unlike the noisy rainwater he can hear descending from the skies outside—the rain that has kept him trapped here for literal days now.

He's not complaining.

It was only when your palms found place against the back of his hands that his body relaxed. Your hands were soft unlike the many generals and the blacksmiths he had met before his forced abandonment of his previous life. It felt nice. As if flower petals were cradling his hands.

You smelt just as good as a flower too. He had never been this close to you before so he hadn't noticed it, but now that his back is to you like this..it was as if he was laying in a flowerbed.

Do men always smell this good? He doubts it. Most likely, this scent was completely unique. A fragrance only you could naturally produce. Archons does he wish—

 "—and that's how you do it," He blinks, snapping back to reality where he stares down at the cloth now weaved together with expert precision to form a bunny's ear.

You had helped him make a breakthrough at last..and he had been too busy daydreaming about how it would feel to be hugged by you to watch and learn how you even did it.

..But he doesn't feel regret looming when the realization comes nor does his annoyance return. Or maybe it has and it just hasn't set in yet. He can't tell right now, not when he's feeling as if he had just been warmed by the sun after being frozen for a millennia.

 "Alright, now you try," He hears your words, but they don't process as fast as your hands leaving him does. Nothing really processes quicker than that. Not his frown. Not his disappointment. Not anything.

But not processing something doesn't make it unclear to others. Upon seeing his downcast expression, your brows quirk up in confusion.

 "Is there something on your mind, my new friend?" You inquired, but your question is never answered. Instead, you watch as his saddened eyes turn owlish and his head spins in the opposite direction of you as he mutters something under his breath.

 "I'm sorry, but can you repeat that?" You asked softly, leaning closer in order to hear him better.

 "Can you..show me how to do that again. Please.." He repeated, and in doing so earned the harmonious gift that was your chuckle and the warmth of your hands on him once again.

 "Sure. So what you do is.."

Humans are odd creatures. They'd sacrifice countless hours of their already short life, go to ridiculous lengths doing things, and even put aside their fragile well being to do things that are completely irrelevant just because of their belief that what they do will make someone happy.

 "I'm back!" The sweet chirp of your new housemate—which you and the villagers of the neighboring town have begun to call Kabukimono— echoed through the small abode of your now shared home after not having the pleasure to in about three days or so.

After moving in a week prior, Kabukimono had been adamant on pulling his own weight to prove that he was worth keeping around despite you having the compassion to allow him to be a freeloader otherwise. That said, after your own clumsiness in the field left you with a sprained ankle, your kind new friend had offered to go out and sell all of this week’s goods on your behalf and how could you refuse such an offer when he looked so happy and eager to help out little ol' you?

Well, the real answer to that was that he gave you no choice in the matter, but you digress.

 "I'm in here," He heard you call from the kitchen and he immediately set off in that direction, just barely remembering to slip off his shoes at the door from how eager he was to see you.

If it wasn't obvious already, it had taken some time—both the journey to and from the village and the actual process of conversing with people and getting them to buy everything—but he believes he did pretty good. At the very least, everything was sold. He even managed to make enough to buy you something with some of the excess money!

 "Y/n! I got—! ..Huh?" His words died as quickly as his pace as he stilled to a full halt at the entryway. His eyes grew wide bit by bit as he took everything in.

Banners of silk and thread had been strung along the walls, flashing their abstract patterns of blue and purple at anyone who'd spare a glance. Candles—which are usually set alight atop your nightstand and bookshelf in our room—now clumped and coddled on the table like one big sun with the varying foods surrounding them posing as the stars that helped light up the wooden sky they sat on.

But such a beautiful display was only given a moment's glance as Kabukimono seemed more interested in what you thought was a less-than-average sight; yourself.

Nevertheless, the adoration you felt seeing the sparkle of surprise in his eyes—even if for only a second or so—made you crack a smile as you recited the line you had gone over just about a million times during the time you spent waiting for him to arrive.

 "Welcome home, Kabukimono."

He was at a loss for words and not for the reason you wanted him to be. With the intent of easing his perturbed shock, you walked towards him, steady and slow, but all that proved to do was snap him out of the spell your heavy eyebags and dreary, drooping eyes had put him under.

 "What is all of this? And more importantly, why are you standing? You're not supposed to be putting pressure on that ankle!" He quickly met you the rest of the way, and to your dismay, he had beat you to the comforting, his hands shooting out to grip you by the hips and ease your bandaged leg of your body's weight.

Ignoring his other questions, you began explaining, telling him, "It's a celebration feast. You told me yourself that you, along with not having a name, you haven’t had a home to call yours yet. I thought it would be good to make an occasion out of you finding one at last."

Kabukimono felt bad to admit this even in his own head, but your words were going in one ear and out the other. Yes, he had asked, but you weren't giving him answers to the other questions he simply found more important at the moment, and because of that, it caused his face to look rather tense. Certainly not cheery like you had hoped.

It seems you have made a mistake. It wasn't a surprise, it was you after all, but the thought still hurt considering how much time it took preparing for this moment.

And so, in an attempt to lighten your thoughts and the overall mood, you ask him, "Aren't you happy?"

And unfortunately, your dear housemate didn't answer in the way you had wished he would, instead replying with, "Why would I? You look like you're about to drop dead!"

 "I'm fine," You said; a futile attempt of reassurance when you probably looked like a Sumerian Akademiya student who just finished pulling an all-nighter to write a one-hundred page research paper.

 "As if!" Kabukimono said. That's when he slung your arm over his shoulder, forcing your bodyweight onto him without your permission, and began trudging you along in the direction of your room.

 "What're you doing—" "Taking you to your room so you can lie down like you probably haven't been doing!"

 "Seriously, you should take better care of yourself! Don't tell me this is normal for you.. If it is, I won't be able to let you out of my sight from now on!"

In the end, both the feast and Kabukimono's gift for you had been forgotten. Even though you ended up enjoying it later, your sadness about the initial surprise being ruined was hard to get over even with the delight of a new hairpin being added to your collection..

Humans are odd creatures. Their inability to do much makes them become overawed by the simplest things. Their eyes shine just from seeing a coin flipped in an unorthodox way and they clap and gasp watching the stars twinkle overhead. It’s so nice to see stupid.

 “You know how to dance?” The excitable question left your usually composed lips as you stared at Kabukimono with stars in your eyes.

 “Well...I used to perform sword dances so I suppose yes,” He clarifies, arms crossed as he stared off at the wall to his left with full interest. His azure eyes darkened as if someone had pulled wool over them only to light up like a room to an oil lamp at the question that followed his response.

 “Can you show me?” The way you asked him reminded him of a little kid asking their mother to buy them a toy; full of innocent expectancy. It made his lips thin into a line just hearing it.

It had been ages since he’s danced, and in the past, there weren’t many who gawked at or praised him for his moves. Not his mother. Not any of her servants or soldiers. Certainly not her familiar. At the time, he hadn’t cared about their reactions much at all, seeming as the purpose of his dancing wasn’t for frivolous entertainment, but you, however, were different. You weren’t his mother who had abandoned him. You weren’t the servants or soldiers who never spoke to him. You aren’t his mother’s glaring familiar. You’re you, and the thought of seeing such a lackluster expression painted on your face puts a bad taste in his mouth. It makes him gnaw at his bottom lip from the feeling of a wave rocking unsteadily in his stomach cavity. It made him feel..anxious.

 “Ah..” His mouth felt like chalk—uncomfortably dry—as he spoke and his eyes couldn’t remove themselves from the walls he was surely burning holes into with his nervous glare as he tried to find something—anything—to refute you. He, at last, does and sputters it out in an uneven tone, “But..you aren’t going into battle though.”

You hum in acknowledgement, and for a moment, he thought he could successfully negate you from the topic, but then your lips move to say, “Sword dances are to summon strength, right? Though they’re performed for battles, war isn’t the only thing that requires strength. Farming, cooking.. Even getting out of bed in the mornings needs some strength to complete. When put in that way, don’t you think I’m in need of just as much strength as one of the Shogunate’s men?”

 “We- Well, a typical sword dance requires a sword and a fan and we don’t have anything like that lying around the house,” He shoots out. His brows knitting at the odd feeling of his skin damp with moisture he wasn’t aware he could produce before now.

 “I do have a fan,” You retort, “It’s mainly preserved for hot weather, but it'd be perfect for this occasion! And for the sword..ah! Would a wooden stilt suffice? It’s a little longer than the typical sword, but if I were to shave it down a bit..”

 “I..” He looks at you, face uncharacteristically spooked as he repeats himself, sounding like a broken record at this point, “I.. I..” but you don’t pay it much mind as your excitement gets the better of you and you chalk up his reaction as pre-performance jitters before running to find the items needed, leaving Kabukimono no choice but to watch helplessly like some baby kitten.

In the matter of an hour, he was outside. His body donning one of your many creations while holding a summer fan and wooden stick that didn’t come close to matching anything he was wearing. You—smile etched on your face despite feeling as though you were being stabbed all over—sat a little aways from him on the white cushions that had completely covered the green grass, patiently yet eagerly awaiting for the invisible curtains to rise and for his feet to begin to move.

Despite the biting cold, his hands were slick with sweat, forcing him to grip the wood and fan with inhumane force as to not drop it. His breath came out thick and labored, freezing over immediately upon leaving his lips and ultimately coming out as puffy, white clouds. His only saving grace here was that his feet were firmly planted into the dirt circle you paved out just for his little show. It was even rid of the transparent icy layer; an astonishing feat to be done in so little time.

Even from where he stood, he could see the reddening of your face and hands. The slight tremble of your limbs.. You were freezing to death, that much was certain, but you didn’t care. That’s just how adamant you were to see him perform.

And so, feeling as though he had no other choice, he began. His feet started to glide, starting slow as did his arms—languid and mesmerizing—before it began to pick up just a little whenever he’d twirl or spin or hop. He was sure his movements were sloppy, that his improvision to the original dance he was taught shone through like a stain to white cloth..but as he snuck a glance your way, he found himself uncaring.

..Because the way you looked at him was as if you were gazing up at a god who had just saved your life; amazement brightened your hues like comets in the sky as you followed his every move, utterly enraptured by him. He had managed to evoke that from you. Only him.

Ironically, he had found he himself charmed by your expression and microexpressions. Completely hypnotized as he slid and flowed around the small circle, his clothing–the clothing you had gifted to him—fluttering like angel wings which only further added to the beauty of each swing he took with the stick.

But alas, as the dance went on, Kabukimono found himself going into autopilot. Simply going about the motions as he took every chance possibly to glance your way, his eyes like a distant memory—a past life—whenever they locked with yours..

Humans are odd creatures. Deceptive by nature too. Without a perceptive gaze and trained ears to catch onto their lies, they could make you believe anything as the truth.

 "Hey, Kabukimono, could you pass me the carrots I cut up over there?" You asked, using your head to gesture over in the direction of where you had left the cut carrots on the low table. Kabukimono jumped to your request; crossing the kitchen, picking up the bowl, and walking back over to where you sat comfortably at the kotatsu in record time.

He hands it to you, and with a flick of your wrists, the orange delicacies had joined the rest of the vegetables in the boiling pot on the table. Kabukimono sits back on his knees as you do this, taking comfort in propping his elbow up on the wooden surface before laying his head on his fist as he watches the slow travel of white steam erupt from the pot into the air. His eyes like staring on like a dormant beast at the boiling vegetables crackling as he sighs dreamily at the smell of heaven they produce.

He didn't need to eat. He had told you that at some point in time along with other things, and yet, you had somehow trained him to yearn for food regardless—to salivate when he saw a tasty-looking dish and even grow excited at the thought of what to cook for dinner. It was such a mundane thing that was once so foreign to him. Such a human pleasure and yet he so eagerly partook in it regardless. All because of you. All for you.

Another thing he does because of you now is small talk. Before, if there were silence between him and another person he'd embrace it without a second thought and wouldn't leave that comfort unless forced to—and even then, only a select few would actually elicit a response from him. Nowadays though, it seems he grows quite restless whenever words aren't filling the air. Though, this applied more so with you than anyone else.

 "How did it go in town?" He asked, "You were selling those new cat-shaped stuffed toys you worked yourself ragged making..so? Did anybody like them?"

To such a simple question, your reaction was bewildering. The way your grip tightened on the ladle, the narrowing of your eyes and brows, the tut of your lip.. It all gave a bad vibe.

And so he frowned and asked, "Did they not like them after all? ..Or did something—"

 "It's nothing," And you presented him a closed-eyed smile, both your expression and your grip on the ladle relaxing as you went on to further say, "I just..thought about this girl I met at the villager. I assume she was an orphan from her attire and the way she followed me around without a care.. Anyways, she ended up tripping and hurting her knee pretty badly so I gave her one of the cat plushies, free of charge.”

 "Anyways, the food is ready so let's drop this topic. After all, we don't want it to get cold," The topic changed as suddenly as it came. Odd, seeming as how you're usually rambling all afternoon and evening about your travel to the village, sparing absolutely no detail about even the tiniest things.

The thought lingered for a time, but as he watched you stuff your mouth and saw your eyes shine joyously at the wonderful flavor that coated your tongue as you began to ramble about your relief about the dish turning out good despite this being your first time trying out the recipe, that thought eventually fluttered away with the wind that came through the crack in your sliding doors that allowed more of the evening oranges and yellows to seep into your home.

You were probably just really hungry and eager to eat, he thought as he finally took a bite of the potato he had picked up with his chopsticks, his eyes closing as he hummed out in delight at the taste.

Unbeknownst to him, your face dropped as soon as his eyes closed, your eyes uncharacteristically fogged and dull, as if it were displaying the thick fog that shrouded your mind, your thoughts, your heart. It was a fog that Kabukimono never caught on to, blissfully unaware of what stained your mind, body, and soul.

Humans are odd creatures. Their outside appearance never matches how they feel or the thoughts that poison their mind. They never voice those thoughts either, making it impossible to guess what’s truly going on with them. There are some who’d bless you with a morsel of their inner world—give you a crumb of the turmoil that constantly leaks in their head—making you feel as though you’ve truly come to understand them when in reality, you haven’t even scratched the surface.

It was the middle of the night. The once navy blue sky that had overcasted the world when the sun first fell was now dark due to even the stars going into hiding to slumber, leaving the moon as the only beacon of light to shed away the shadows. It was pitch black everywhere you turned and cicadas buzzed loudly outside, likely complaining about the sweltering heat of the summer, making it impossible to even hear yourself think. It was like some mundane hell.

So why were you out here?

It happened by chance. He had heard some odd noises and went to investigate it. Not expecting to see a silhouette walking out of the door. Thinking it was some thief, he followed after the person, and as the sounds of the cicadas grew distant and an earthy smell invaded his nostrils, the silhouette became less and less obscure. Becoming as clear as day by the time the person had reached their destination.

That person was you.

 “..What is this place?” The question came tumbling out before he could stop himself, his words loudly piercing the quiet of the night. It alerts you of his presence at long last and has your head spinning in his direction.

 “Oh.. It’s just you, Kabukimono’.. Heh, you scared me,” You said. Your head turns forward once again as you force your shoulders to relax, allowing the basket on your back to slide down your arms and to the ground. As you slowly set yourself atop the gentle grass, Kabukimono takes a step forward. Then another, and another, until he’s right beside you, who was digging for the items in the basket.

After a moment of silence allows you to, at last, gather everything needed out of the basket, Kabukimono decides to ask his question once again..or he planned to. As he opens his mouth to let his words free, your voice breaks the silence.

 “There used to be a small village here,” You told him, your hands beginning to twist two long stocks together, “If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”

 “The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..” You laughed, but it was drier than any desert depicted in the novels in your room. It felt wrong to hear—kinda like hearing a baby’s cry come from a grown man—and it felt almost unnerving to have it come from someone like you, who he’s come to associate with the sun itself.

But you were probably really tired. Looking at you, the deep bags that hang your eyelids down indicates you probably haven’t gotten much sleep lately which makes sense seeming as you’ve been running around and, as you told him, ‘preparing’ for something really important.

He wonders what it is you’re preparing for. Whenever he’d ask, he’d never get an answer..

 “This lake, though bound by the earth to this one place, saved that village so many times that the townsfolk began to believe that some powerful being was secretly living in the depths of it and protecting them. They began to idolize it, nurture and take care of it, and spoke about it as if this little lake was some otherworldly deity which created tall tales and legends that they’d go on to tell their children…believe it or not, I once took part in such absurdity.”

 “So..what happened to the village?” Kabukimono hesitates to ask. After all, the obvious context clues pointed him in a tragic direction, but he couldn’t resist his own curiosity in the end. Not when the look in your eyes—that were lit by the lantern of the water’s ripples—reflected nothing but pure sorrow.

At his question, you took a glance his way. As you broke away from the lake that practically glowed in the moonlight, your eyes were stripped of the illuminating gleam of the waves and casted into the darkness of the night. In fact, if it weren’t for the lake, he probably wouldn’t have been able to see your face at all.

Part of him wished that had happened. If it did, he wouldn’t have been forced to stare into the abyss that had overtook your hues for those small handful of seconds.

 “The lake failed them,” You finally spoke shortly after returning your gaze to the water, “A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”

 “No one knew how it started. After all, fire wasn’t anywhere close to being the most accessible resource they had. It was a luxury, even. It also never spread past the village and by sunrise, it ceased to exist altogether. The oddity of the situation made the survivors believe that it was some punishment from their lake deity,” As you went on, you had been weaving the strands until one end had connected to the other in a circle—though your sloppy craftsmanship caused it to look more like an oval in your opinion.

As eyesore of a sight it was, you persisted. Your hands reach for the clipped flowers beside you, "That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad,” Kabukimono watched as you spoke, sticking flowers in one by one and twisting it into the circle, making the dank green pop with each pristine white you carefully placed around it.

 “Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."

The story seemed like something straight out of a fairytale. Nonsensical like a myth that he usually wouldn't believe...but the same could be said about his very existence. With that in mind, who is he to be so narrow-minded? He decided to keep his thoughts to himself, locking them tight behind his lips as you continued.

 "The lake failed them. It made a fatal mistake. Saved not one villager from that fire, yet nothing changed. Not their love nor their devotion..if anything it only made them see this lake in an even more divine light...so why didn't the same happen for me?"

The tail end of your sentence made him perk up with unease and as his brows knitted together, Kabukimono opens his mouth as he worriedly asked—or rather, attempted to ask, “What do you mean—” but you shifted the topic faster than he could get the full sentence out.

 “ Do you remember the tales I would tell you about my childhood—my brother specifically? ..I ran into him some time ago while I was out selling in the village.”

 “Whether they wanted to seize from me the goods I was selling that day—or perhaps mistook me for a woman and wanted to have their fun with me as some men have in the past—they began harassing me quite aggressively,” You started, “They bothered me for quite awhile and grew progressively violent the more I tried to politely get them to leave me be—one of them even snatched me up by the wrist. That’s when he intervened.”

 “He didn’t recognize me, not that I’d expect him to. After all, I’ve changed a lot since we were kids..and it seems the same went for him as well,” After placing all the whites of innocence, you went on to grab your smaller, yellow sundrops, your hands meticulously working them in between the white flowers as you continued talking in a cheerful tone. 

 “Though it’s only been a decade or so since I’d last seen or spoken to him, he’s already been through so much. He told me himself, you see, that he had just returned from the war and was passing through villages trying to find a suitable gift.. Can you guess for what?”

 “I don’t know..maybe your parents?” Kabukimono guessed; the wrong answer. You didn’t give him another chance to theorize.

 “It was for his wife and daughter,” You corrected, and if once wasn’t enough, you repeat yourself, “He was returning home to his wife and four year old daughter and wanted to get them something special.”

Gaining the courage once again, Kabukimono attempted to question the point of this conversation in the first place by asking, “What’s wrong with that?” He grew hopeful at first when you allowed him to get his words out. Maybe, at last, he could get his questions answered, he thought.

He thought wrong.

 “He’s really tall now, you know? —I mean, he was always taller than me, but now he’s like a tree! When we spoke face to face, I had to crane my neck all the way back to look up at him,” His question is, once again, ignored as if he never asked it. He began to frown, not liking the thought of you possibly ignoring him, but that crease in his skin quickly grew less prominent when he caught a glimpse of your joyful smile.

 “He’s also got big muscles and a handsome smile,” You add, “That paired with his headstrong, chivalric nature..I’m not surprised that he’s made a name for himself and started a family in such a short time,” Your voice then drops to a murmur as you turn you creation left then right, inspecting it as said, “In only a small handful of years, he’s achieved someone’s dream and so much more.. He’s managed to exceed even the impossible and make everyone proud..he’s truly amazing..”

You grasp at pink petals—deteriorated by the chilling weather—as you fit them as you see fit. Filling in each space like a piece of a puzzle.

 “That encounter made me think back to the lake. It made me realize how similar we are. We’re both fragile and delicate and were surrounded by people who’d still expect us to give away our bones despite already relinquishing our flesh and blood…so what went wrong with me?”

 “Wh.. What?” He stammered. You lift your handiwork into the air, presenting it to the moon for judgement before you finally repeat yourself..

 “What went wrong? I made mistakes just like the lake, so why wasn’t I given the benefit of the doubt? Why did my family–my father–abandon me?”

Abandon. That word stuck to him like a burn to his skin and it felt as if he had just opened his eyes for the first time in a century. It made him realize all the little things at last; how tense the air was, how dim your eyes were, how often your brows twitched, how your eyes seemed like glass balls, how forced your smile seemed.. The illusion he had absorbed himself shattered in that instant, allowing reality to set in like a heavy weight. The person who sat beside him, the one who he’s come to view as the sun that brightened up his day, had looked so different in that moment that he could mistake them for an entirely different person. Did they always look like that? If so, for how long? How long has his sun been this dim? And why didn’t he notice it sooner?

 “I’m sorry, that was cruel of me to ask you that,” You profess in a raspy whisper before turning to him, plopping the finished product—a tri-colored flower crown—atop his head as you mutter, “There’s no way you can answer that.. It was my mistake..”

Kabukimono blinks, his eyes looking up as he tries to peer at the crown to no avail. It was like watching a kitten play with a toy; adorable. Kabukimono didn’t catch it, but upon seeing such a cute sight, you bit down on your bottom lip as your eyes narrowed—damn nea glaring—his way. Luckily, you catch yourself before he notices, trying to laugh it off as you look over at the lake once more. Though your laugh was even drier than the previous one that left your lips and came tumbling out of your mouth like gravel.

 “You know, you remind me so much of my brother,” You said, “You have so much potential to live whatever life you want, to make everyone happy and still keep yourself intact..I almost envy you.”

Kabukimono—hands delicately tracing the rim of the flower crown on his head—grimaced at your comment. Envy. Such a negative feeling to harbor towards him and for no reason at all. After all, he’s nothing special. If he was, surely she wouldn’t have discarded him and left him to rot alone. Alas, before he can tell you that, you started rambling again.

 “I used to make mistakes all the time when I was younger. Especially with swords,” You told him, though it looked more like you were talking to the lake at your knees by the way you were so intently gazing at it, “I just couldn’t get the hang of it. That applied to a lot of things my father tried to teach me… Heh, it makes sense why he gave up on trying after my brother was born.”

 “Wh- What are you saying..?” Kabukimono asked. It came out as a hoarse whisper that was easily carried away by the warm winds and far away from your ears. Hence why you continued instead of answering, surely.

 “You asked me once about the story behind how my obsession for knitting came about.. Why I enjoy it so much.. Well, the reason I never told you was because the truth is quite silly in hindsight; it was to apologize to my father.”

 “I felt sorry for him. After all, his oldest son—who was supposed to carry on and lift a weight off his shoulders–was completely hopeless in every way. I truly did feel bad..and so I thought the least I could do was ease his mind—to reassure him that his useless son could do something right.”

 “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that–” “After keenly watching my mother sew clothes and observing the female servants make clothing they could otherwise not afford, I was able to do something out of these impractical hands..” You held your hands up and kabukimono winces at the sight. They look like the aftermath of an intense fight, scars—some new, some old—littered your skin, some even stained it with the ugly dark crust that forms when the skin begins to heal. Did they always look that way? “Would you like to know what I made?”

 “I– I’m not—” “I made a fox. A tiny little fox attached to a string,” You said, “I thought it would be cute if he would tie it around the hilt of his sword and carry it around — similar to how one would a good luck charm. I was so excited when I finally finished and ran straight to my father's dojo on the far edge of our home to show it to him.”

 “Y/n–” “At the sight of my creation, my father frowned so deeply I thought his face would become permanently creased by it. ‘Is this what you waste your idle time doing?’ he asked me before cutting my little fox to shreds. ‘No wonder you’ve become such a disappointment! You sit around knitting animals instead of dedicating yourself to training!’ he went on to say.”

 “He went to grumbling under his breath after that. He kept his voice low, but I still heard what he said.. Wanna guess? He said—”

 “Y/n, stop!” The sound of shuffling of him as he stumbles to his feet is loud—though small in comparison to the boom of his scream. You pause, surprised albeit you barely show it—or rather, you’re barely able to force yourself to react—only being able to slowly blink his way in the end as you stare up at your darling housemate, who’s pretty eyes had welled up with tears.

 Stop..please..” He pleaded. A sniffle pushing him past the line of embarrassment, causing him to hide his face from you, “I- I beg of you.. Don’t say another word..not if you plan to degrade yourself like this!”

 “..Kabukimono, don’t..—” He hears you call from the other side of the barrier he created between the two of you, but he’s finally quicker, interrupting you for the first time tonight.

 “Your family abandoned you, but that helped you find your way to me,” He choked, “They didn’t see your worth for what it truly was..but that allowed me to! Who cares what they think of you? How they perceive you? They aren’t in your life anymore, I am! So stop talking down on yourself like they are!” With every word that leaves his lips—that seep through the unseen slits between his fingers—Kabukimono seems to crack more and more until he falls apart, collapsing to the ground in a fit of sobs which causes the flower crown to fall ungracefully off his head.

 “I- I’m in your life now, and I don’t care what you’re good or bad at! I don’t have any expectations for you to meet! It doesn’t matter if you don’t meet society’s standards! I don’t care about any of that. I just want to stay by your side! Isn’t that enough? Aren’t I enough?”

 “Kabukimono..” You call. A moment of silence passes and a chime of bells in the form of your choked sobs fill his ears as you snivel, “No.. No, no— I- I'm sorry. Don’t cry, please don’t cry..”

He suddenly feels the warmth of your arms surrounding his kneeled being and he finds himself crying harder to the point every sorrowful yell and sniffle rattled his entire body. You had wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to comfort him, but it was rather pitiful and futile, seeming as you were sobbing yourself, repeating, “Sorry.. I’m so sorry..” over and over like it was your matra.

You two stayed like that; sobbing amongst the serene sound of the water until it drowned you two out altogether. After some time, your loud croaks had been reduced to weak whimpering—though if the reason for that was because your voice grew too hoarse to form proper words or another reason was unclear.

Neither of you cared, or at least, Kabukimono didn’t. All that he cared about was the feeling of being tangled in your arms and the sound of your heartbeat singing in his ear—which he had pressed against your chest.

 “Promise me,” He whispered, his voice rasp, “Promise me that you’ll be honest with me from now on. A- And promise me not to degrade yourself anymore..that you won’t think about the past..all of it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on..with me,” He clutched at your kimono, crumpling the flowers on it with his grip as he awaited your response with bated breath.

And when you finally did—when you finally mumbled your response and in the exact way he wanted you to—he felt as though the sun had finally come out again, better and brighter than before..

 “I promise.”

Humans are odd creatures. They’re treacherous liars by nature who spew falsehoods for the sake of their own twisted amusement, uncaring of those affected by their games.

 “There was once a small village here. If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”

It’s been two weeks since you left for the village to sell goods. You still hadn’t returned.

It’d usually take no more than a few days for you to sell everything and come home, so after said days had passed and you were nowhere to be seen, he grew worried and—in the end—went to the village in search of you.

..But you weren’t there either. In fact, from what he gathered from asking around, you had left the village days ago.

 “The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..”

You weren’t here at the village, but you weren’t home either..so where had you gone? The question sunk into him, weighing him down like an anchor and causing his stomach cavity to drop. A feeling of dread set over him as he came upon the unsettling realization; you were missing.

Where had you gone? What happened when you left the village a few days ago? Had you been kidnapped? Grown more frantic with each thought that popped into his head, Kabukimono ran around, asking every villager he came across about you until he finally gained a morsel of information—a speckle of hope—when a man mentioned seeing someone that fit your description walk towards the entrance of the village with an empty, woven basket as big as themselves hanging on their back.

And without much thought, he took off in that very direction, heeding the man no mind any longer despite his warnings about the impending storm that was soon to consume the area.

 “This lake, though bound by the earth to this one place, saved that village so many times that the townsfolk began to believe that some powerful being was secretly living in the depths of it and protecting them. They began to idolize it, nurture and take care of it, and spoke about it as if this little lake was some otherworldly deity which created tall tales and legends that they’d go on to tell their children…believe it or not, I took part in such absurdity.”

Kabukimono remained unfazed when the path beneath his feet began to turn dark and slippery, when the graying sky finally shed its tears, when those tears dampened his clothing, not even when he nearly fell into a puddle. All that he could focus on was the possible places you would have gone and why the place you chose wasn’t home where he was.

 “So..what happened to the village?”

 “The lake failed them.”

 “Y/n! Where are you? Can you hear me?” After a while of running with no destination in mind, Kabukimono found it best to call out to you in hopes you’d make your way to him, call his name back, something–anything–that would hint towards you being near.

He raised his voice as high as he could, his voice likely being carried across nations from how loud he was, and yet, he was met with nothing but the deafening sound of thunder roaring to life. It was disheartening, but as he stood amongst the rain, the final wire in his head finally clicked and the memory of you sitting before crystal waters was pushed to the forefront of his mind.

It’s a slim chance, but maybe you had gone there and, for whatever reason, stayed.

In an instant, he was running at full speed once again, steering in the direction his memory remembered best.

 “A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”

 “No one knew how it started. After all, fire wasn’t anywhere close to being the most accessible resource they had. It was a luxury, even. It also never spread past the village and by sunrise, it ceased to exist altogether. The oddity of the situation made the survivors believe that it was some punishment from their lake deity.”

 "That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad..”

He made it to the lake by nightfall—not that he could tell by looking up, seeming as it's been the same color since earlier that afternoon—and as if a light was shining down on it from the sky, the lake gleamed almost magically. Its darkened waters seemed to shine like a ruby even under the thick clouds and he sees the ripples from where he stood in the distance. The waves paving a clear way for him to follow, slowly leading up to the center where he spots something.. 

 “Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down…”

As he slowly walked closer, familiar strands of hair became noticeable. Though cut into uneven chunks and spread out to be nearly invisible in comparison to the deep red of the water that it floats in, he was sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. That said, he found himself following the strands to the origins of where they once flourished from. His eyes locked on the indistinguishable lump once again and he was sure that it and the reason he came here were unrelated…until something floating beside it caught his eyes.

That something was a hairpin. One with a golden base and purple and red flowers dancing along the edge of it…just like the one he bought you the day you decided to throw him that welcoming party.

 “...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."

 “Y/n.. Y/n!” Despite the pressure of it dawning on him felt like two boulders falling on his shoulders, Kabukimono rushed into the water and immediately the white clothing that covered his being stained a murky crimson whilst a putrid smell invaded his nostrils. It made him feel sick—nauseated, even—but he did his best to push it all down as he clumsily swam towards the center of the lake.

It wasn’t true. This wasn’t happening. This surely can’t.. What’s floating amongst the water truly isn’t what he thinks it is.

It isn’t you. There’s no way. You made a promise that you still haven’t fulfilled, after all. You wouldn’t break your promise, not someone like you.

After what felt like an eternity, he reaches the center of the lake which he now notices is more of an inky black and only stretches as far as a few rogue strands. He grabs ahold of the lump, sucking in a breath when his fingertips sink in slightly as if pressing against a firm, wet cushion. It felt disgusting. He hesitates, but ultimately squeezes down enough to pull it along even with the sickening slick gushing at the pressure and making his grasp unsteady.

He reaches land at long last, immediately escaping onto the wet grass and tugging the lump out along with him. It looked less like a lump now, and though swole and looking like some abstract art piece, there was no mistaking it. It was flesh. This was a person, or rather, the remains of one..and they looked eerily similar to you even when all blotched and bloody, there was no denying that.

But even if this was you, there’s no way you could be dead. No, that’d be impossible. You have to be asleep. You had to have decided to take a dip in the lake and fell asleep. That’s the only thing that makes sense.

His shaky palms reach out to you and he touches you with his cold, wet hands that were actively getting more and more drenched with every raindrop that fell on them. He gently swept your hair from your face, tucked it tentatively behind your ear, and cupped your cheek.

His breath stutters. It was as if he was touching pure ice. But that can’t be possible. You’re his sun, his light, somebody like you shouldn’t feel like this.

..Well actually, it makes sense. You fell asleep in the water plus it’s raining. Even someone as warm as you would succumb to the cold under these circumstances. It makes sense. It’s okay. He’ll help you warm up in the comfort of your home as soon as he wakes you up.

He slides his hand down your face—past your now oddly grayed lips and down your neck—until he reaches your bare shoulder, which wrinkles had been exposed due to his rough handlings in pulling you out of the water by the drapes of your clothing. He promises to apologize when you awake. Because you will wake up. There’s no doubt. Because you’re just sleeping.

 “Y/n..” He calls softly. Too softly seeming as you remain unmoving. He decides to give your shoulder a gentle shake, calling your name once again, “Y/n.”

 “Y/n. It’s time to wake up,” Your lashes don’t flutter. You don’t grimace from the discomfort of his shaking growing more and more aggressive. You don’t do anything.

 “I don’t mean to disturb you, but you’ll probably get sick if you lie here in the rain any longer,” The same result. Blood begins to seep under his fingernails from how hard he’s digging his nails into your skin. He continues to shake you anyways, even going on to grip your other, covered shoulder.

 “Come on, you can’t sleep around forever. I- I planned to surprise you by making dinner all by myself tonight. It’s your favorite so you have to try it,” His nose was beginning to tingle from the odor that was invading it. Where was it coming from? Why is it so much stronger than before now that he’s closer to you? He forces his mind not to make the connection. Not that there was a connection in the first place. You were just sleeping, after all.

Just sleeping, nothing else.

Kabukimono’s hand trails down your arm, down past your wrist, to your hand where he enlaces his fingers with yours, “Come on,” He said, though his voice was quieter now, more shaky, and his words cracked like glass, allowing his desperation to seep through just a little, “We have to get home..”

 “I- I want to go home now, so let’s go..please..” He lifts your hand, raising your arm into the air and ignoring the deep, dark lines etched messily into your skin—the deepest looking one right over the vein of your wrist—and giving it a firm squeeze. You don’t reciprocate the action.

His grip loosens after a while and your fingers slide down his palm and flop to the ground beside you. You had to be really, really tired. But that’s okay, he’ll help you out!

He moves to hover over you, a grim smile etched on his face as he loops his arms around your waist and hoists you up. Your body collides with his as all your weight shifts to lean on him.

He holds you tightly, his head turning so as to not hit his nose against your chest and instead allows you to lean against the side of his face, his ear pricking up at the sweet symphony of...silence.

Sitting there, amongst the loud rain with his ear pressed against your chest—right over your heart—he’s met with deafening silence instead of the usual beat your heart strings typically produce. Your heart wasn’t playing its usual tune. It wasn’t playing anything, in fact, because it wasn’t beating. If your heart wasn’t beating anymore that meant you weren’t breathing anymore either which meant..you..

Tears—ones that he wasn’t aware of—were building up in his eyes, falling like a castle under attack. They slowly descended one after another, quickly fusing with the rainwater and forming as a long, thick stream along his cheek and past his mouth—which he had cracked open to bare his clenched teeth.

 “Y/n..what have you done?” He whispered. His voice sounded small like a baby fox’s cry for help; vulnerable and weak. He then repeats himself one last time, slowly, “..Why have you done this..?”

Silence. His teeth crackles under the pressure of him forcing them impossibly closer together.

 “Answer me,” He says through gritted teeth before yelling out, visibly and uncharacteristically enraged, “Answer me!”

Silence. He shakes you hard, your head rolling every which way like a ragdoll to the point it’d make one believe that any harder would cause it to roll right off your shoulders. Luckily, for his sake, it doesn’t.

 “You promised me!” He shouted, his voice then dipped, “..you promised me..”

Silence. A choke spells his demise quickly after that and his strength suddenly fails him, allowing your body—your corpse—to fall unceremoniously to the ground. He follows suit soon after, and when he does, he lets out a scream. One that clawed its way out from the depths of his chest, spilling his agony out of his throat and laying it bare for the entire world to see…alas, with nothing but the moon to comfort him.

Humans are odd creatures. Ones that cannot be trusted, no matter who they are or what past they may harbor, at least, that’s what Kabukimono.. Kunikuzushi…

That’s what Scaramouche has grown to believe after centuries of nothing but betrayal.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[yongseungkim]

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[farmlesbians]

do the people trying to comfort me by saying it��s good i’m single cause it means i can do what i want and not be tied down realize that it is literally my dream to be tied down like that’s the goal that’s the whole POINT

[chayscribbles]

hola. i'm not dead. at least, not physically.

a lot of things have been happening in my life (mostly... not good) but i think things are settling down for now. hopefully. i'm not gonna promise some big dramatic comeback to writeblr but i certainly wanna dip my toes back in soon. i miss this place.

anyways, i'm strapped for cash, so expect an art commission info post dropping soon lol. i know it's the holiday season and everyone is broke but i guess it's worth a try.

[rapidhighway]

not a fan of dadow but shit man it does kinda make sense sometimes idk

[milogoestogreendale]

THIS VIDEO?!

[queermycelium]

Cringetober day 17 - Anime Screenshot

I know I haven't posted most of these on here, might correct that by the end. But this one I am way too proud of NOT to show here.

I have always been Normal about Digimon, Wizardmon, and Season 1 Episode 34 The Eight Child Revealed. There is no evidence to the contrary. You cannot prove otherwise.

[71kedi-yip]

Unexpected side effect of being Turkish:

Was daydreaming trying to visiualize a breakfast scene for a fic I will never write. A kid charachter was adding sugar to his tea thelephatically while his mom was adding cold water again telephatically and it was like oh to be raised by people whom understand our powers and nurture them. To see the effects of big things in small, natural ways.

Then I realized they are American, they wouldn't be drinking tea and the kid for sure wouldn't be drinking tea and I was left with the hole a well written meaningfull scene I cannot put in left behind.

[gentil-minou]

sharing my wangxian phlebotomist!wwx/blood donor!lwj au from twitter here (a summary here if you wanna see)

--

The hardest part of the adoption process was supposed to be endless paperwork and screenings and the anxiety of not being good enough to meet high standards of the court.

It wasn't supposed to be A-Yuan's first doctors appointment.

His pitiful screams fill the small doctor's office. He's clinging to Lan Wangji's shoulders like there a lifeline, hiding and all LWJ wants to do is bundle up his son and carry him back to safety.

But these are mandatory vaccines he needs in order to attend pre-k. So he cant.

Nurse: Shots are never fun at this age, huh He would beg to differ; they're never fun at any age But see lwj isnt afraid of the shots themselves. Hes terrified of the sight of blood. His BFF loves horror movies & he watches them with her bravely by staring at the corner of the tv

When lwj gets his blood drawn, he looks closes his eyes and imagines being in a cold pond somewhere. But he's never been afraid of just the shot before.

He's helpless in the face of his son's distress. The nurse sighs, saying theyll have to try again another day.

A-Yuan sniffles into his baba's shirt, exhausted from the crying fit. His eyes are still watery and he looks around the room with such fear in his eyes, before withdrawing back into the safety of his baba's chest.

Lan Wangji has no idea what to do, only cradles him closer

Thankfully, LWJ has someone who can help. His best friend, Jiang Yanli is a child therapist and has been helping him prepare his home for A-Yuan.

If anyone knows what to do, it's Yanli-jie

JYL: Zhanzhan, have you tried showing him its not scary?

LWJ has not, bc he's terrified

JYL is the only one allowed to call him Zhanzhan. In Uni she was the one who mentored him his first week of school. Someone slipped him alcohol and he got deliriously drunk.

Yanli-jie was the one who found him and took him home. This is what they told the cohort but actually…

JYL: seeing his Baba get a shot and be okay might motivate him to be more brave

LWJ certainly doesn't feel brave. He's thinking of the blood flowing from his veins and then LEAVING them to go who knows where. It sounds barbaric

He has the distinct memory of learning what a period is in middle school and promptly passing out

He is not a fan of anything related to blood

But LWJ has learned that Yanli-jie knows what she's doing, so, despite the way he can swear he feels his blood pumping with fear, he agrees...but there's a problem.

LWJ: I am up to date on all my shots. How can I show him it is safe?

JYL: Hmm....I have an idea. My brother is a phlebotomist! He can help.

LWJ is confused. Last he heard, the younger Jiang is a prosecutor who makes a living viciously yelling in a courtroom.

JYL: Not him, Zhanzhan. My adoptive brother, A-Xian. I bet he would be happy to help you. He works at the blood bank at Yiling Clinic! The perfect exposure!

For who?, LWJ wonders. A blood bank sounds like a house of horrors to him. And a person who chooses to stick a needle in people and remove the very force that gives them life? He cannot imagine getting along with this person at all.

--

Yiling Clinic is a community clinic in a part of town Lan Wangji has never been to, especially since the Gusu Group has their own private hospital.

But this is where Yanli-jie's phlebotomist little brother works.

A-Yuan clings to the back of his legs as they approach the receptionist, a young man with amazing cat eye makeup named Mo Xuanyu

These two definitely do not fit the bill for their usual patients, with their designer clothing, so he asks with some skepticism: Um, can I help you?

LWJ has spent the last two hours siking himself up for the blood part, he isn't prepared at all for social interactions. He flounders like a fish.

LWJ: …I am…We are here for…

A shout comes from behind them: Ah! A-Yu, is that A-jie's friend? Zhanzhan?

LWJ flinches until he sees a man sprinting towards them. The 1st thing he notices is this man is wearing lilac scrubs with little white rabbits on them.

The 2nd thing he notices is this man has the most enchanting smile he's ever seen. Already, LWJ feels more relaxed.

The man winks at him: You like the scrubs? A-jie said A-Yuan liked bunnies, I figured this would help keep him calm.

LWJ does not blurt I like bunnies too. But only just.

Beside the man is a pediatric nurse named Wen Ning, no relation, who says he's here to help with A-Yuan

Yanli-jie's little brother, the phlebotomist, introduces himself: Ah! Sorry, Lan Zhan. Jiejie always calls you that so it just stuck. I'm Wei Wuxian. You can call me Wei Ying if you wanna make it even.

Strangely, LWJ feels no need to correct him: Lan Zhan is fine, Wei Ying.

WWX smiles so brightly, LWJ feels dizzy with it.

WWX: Now where's the little bunny himself?

A-Yuan has been clinging behind LWJ's pant leg, tilting around just enough to peek with one eye at this strange gege.

WWX: Maybe not a rabbit then, a radish who likes to hide away!

A-Yuan becomes offended: I don't like radishes!

WWX laughs: Me neither! But Qing-jie says they help us grow big and strong, so they can't be all that bad huh?

WWX is crouched in front of A-Yuan, draping both arms across his knees and resting his chin in one hand. He waits.

LWJ admires his patience. The longer WWX waits, crouched and rocking back and forth in front of A-Yuan, smile gently and welcoming, the more A-Yuan's natural curiosity gets the better of him.

Eventually, his son comes out from behind his leg to touch a black bunny on his sleeve

A-Yuan: I like this one. We only have a white bunny at home.

WWX: I like the black bunny too! What's your bunny's name?

A-Yuan: Banana, bc she tries to eat Baba's banana every morning, and you are what you eat.

He recites this with all the solemnity a 4 yo could possess

WWX's laughter echoes through the lobby: Well! You're very right, A-Yuan. Maybe you aren't a radish after all then. Tell me, what do little boys eat?

A-Yuan: I'm not little! I'm 4 and a half!

WWX: Right, right, I sincerely apologize for my mistake. What do big boys eat then?

A-Yuan purses his lips and taps his chin, pondering his question carefully: Hmm… jelly beans?

WWX looks like he wants to laugh more, but instead says: I see, I see. Thank you for your wisdom A-Yuan.

He looks up at LWJ, dark eyes dancing. LWJ's heart rabbits against his chest

WWX: If your baba is ready, we can head down to my cave if you'd like. I have a lot of cool machines I'd love to show you.

A-Yuan's eyes widen into saucers as he gasps: A cave? Wowww

They grin conspiratorially at each other, before turning bright eyes up at LWJ

LWJ feels warm and much more relaxed inside, so he nods: Mn. We may go.

A-Yuan cheers and holds WWX's hand as the head downstairs.

LWJ trails behind making small talk with WN, watching WWX and A-Yuan swing their hands and skip ahead, feeling something warm blossom in his chest.

The hallway to Wei Wuxian's lab isn't anything like Lan Wangji expects.

The rooms at Gusu are all perfectly pristine and sterile, painted white to promote serenity, rest, and healing.

For one thing, he'd raided a Halloween store at some point and hung up all sorts of decorations, mostly vampire themed. There's one that's says "I vant to suck your blood!" except suck is crossed out and replaced with "donate". Wwx and A-yuan giggle together at wwx's fake accent

It's definitely not up to Gusu General's strict standards. For one thing, there're beanbag chairs in the hall outside. Wwx says it's to feel more comfy while others wait, as he's the only phlebotomist on staff and it can take a while. A-Yuan personally tests each one.

His lab is…adequate if far too small. There's a desk that's overrun with stacks of papers and textbooks and a shelf that's filled with even more. The actual space where blood is drawn is, thankfully, sterile and clean. Though he's decorated with demons demanding blood for food

There's a temp controlled room where the blood is stored, with a red door and the words "Blood Pool" written in menacing barely legible font

Despite the…interesting decor, the room is homely and, surprisingly, welcoming. A-Yuan at least is having a very fun time getting a tour

Wwx patiently answers all of A-Yuan’s questions, even the endless why's, with utmost sincerity, even when his answers are purely nonsense.

Lwj can't stop the fond smile from lifting the corner of his lips. A-Yuan had never warmed up to a medical professional so fast.

He's pulled from his musings when A-Yuan grabs his sleeve: Baba! Blood-gege says this machine makes blood spin around!

Wwx burst out laughing: Blood-gege? I love it!

Lwj is enchanted, head repeating those last 3 words again and again as wwx fondly ruffles A-Yuan's fluffy hair

Wwx: alright, now that you're familiar with my beauty Chenqing (referring to his bloody spinny machine lwj does not want to think about), shall we get down to business?

He says this with his bright dark eyes glittering at LWJ. Right. The blood donating part.

Lwj gulps, nodding. A prisoner walking up to the gallows.

TBC

(If you're interested, I'm probably going to continue at least up to the end of the first part before i just make it into one long fic! You can follow it on my twitter!)

[definitelynotabanana]

hhhhhhhhh. i don’t wanna tag this but hhhhh. slight ramble about shit i hate with the starry time fandom

starry time loop game spoilers under the cut

okay i know it’s. a pet peeve. but GOD do i hate it when people call our dearly beloved researcher of something a milf / mommy / etc. like!!! have you played the game!!! yes people should be able to call her whatever they want she’s just a character but like. HHHHHH. did you. did you DO her quest. where she talks about how she doesn’t like her mother. did you talk to that daydreaming fucker where the traveller thinks about how researcher doesn’t like being called mom.

sorry i’ll shut up. but like. hhhhhhhhhh. you are completely ignoring part of her character. please.

[cloudd-nyne]

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