#i am consumed with glee

[lt-kaollumn]

lookin very patriotic next to my canon vulcan medical posters that i restored from essentially a 16x16 pixel image

arent they pretty. theyre right next to my desk so i can gaze longingly at them in times of need to remind myself what i’m fighting for as a young cadet.

EXPLORE THE GALAXY!

JOIN STARFLEET!

a nice retro-futurism-style recruitment poster feat. my vulcan original character. im printing it 13x19 to have a sick poster for my room :)

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[calsvoid]

what do you mean i have to watch glee to write glee fanfiction

[psychiclounge]

hmmmmm.

[milswrites]

The bonds that tie us

~Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Azriel accept the mating bond.

Warnings: Smut! 18+ MNDI, p in v

Azriel’s golden eyes stayed locked on yours. His intense gaze piercing your own until you could feel his searching presence in your very soul. Each heavy breath which escaped from his lips sent delightful tingles down your spine.

The sweet scent of his growing arousal permeated the air, causing you to slightly shift in your seat at the anticipation of the events to come.

“So?” You ask impatiently, tearing your eyes away from Azriel to look to the chocolate cake sitting in the middle of the table.

The cake which you had spent the past few hours baking. Pouring your love into the mixture as you did so, making sure everything was perfect for your mate.

It was a masterpiece. Your proudest work. And yet the shadowsinger never spared it a glance, not even as he entered the room. Instead he had walked in, burning gaze never failing to leave you as he sat down in the chair opposite. Failing to give you any other reaction except his heady scent of want which filled the room intoxicatingly.

He gulped deeply at the sound of your voice, finally moving his hazel eyes to the food before him. Face drawn black as he allowed the realisation of what this meant to settle deep into the marrow his bones.

“It’s for me?” He asked, voice thick with tension as he took in the cake before him, his eyes briefly closing as he inhaled the delectable smell of the fresh sponge.

“Yes Az” you replied, lips stretching into a smile as you watched the trace of glee wash over his expression. You pressed your thighs together, searching for some relief as you noted the darkness which crept into his passionate stare.

“This is what you want?” Azriel questions, the low rumble of his voice reverberated through your chest, tugging lightly on the taught strings of your heart.

“It is,” you confirmed, leaning your torso forward to enable you to reach the cake in order to cut the male a slice, “And you? Is this what you want?”

“Unquestionably” he replied, watching the way you delicately sliced through the layers of the cake before placing it on the plate before him. Settling back into your seat as your expectant eyes fell onto him.

But instead of eating, he began to speak. Forcing himself to say what had to be said before he’s too consumed by his feral need to devour you whole.

“I spent five hundred years waiting for you” he started, slowly running his tongue along his lips to wet them as he thought of exactly what he wanted to say, “And I would have waited five hundred more if it meant I got to be with you at the end of it.”

Your eyes began to water at the truth which laced his words, his honest eyes coming to meet your own.

“I always thought you were too good for me. The horrors of my past, the grim nature of my job. I couldn’t see how I could deserve you.”

He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. You allowed him to assemble his words in silence, your time to speak would come. This confession he needed to get off his chest alone.

“You are my other half, my soul belongs to you. I see that now. And I’m ready for it, I am. I do deserve you, and I will spend the rest of my life knowing that. You are my mate. And the stars will sing our song forever.”

Azriel made no move towards the cake. So you took this as a sign that it was your turn to speak.

“I love you Azriel. I have for a long time, and not just because the cauldron intended for it to be so. My heart is yours to keep, and for as long as I shall live my love for you will know no bounds nor have any limits. I’m yours Az, I always have been.”

A rough growl broke from his lips at your final statement, his sharp jaw locking into place as he resisted the urge to jump on you then and there, cake be damned.

His fiery gaze remained on you as he lifted the sweet cake to his lips and began to eat. His chest heaving with the effort it was taking to finish the entire slice, the outpour of desire which flooded into his system was almost too unbearable to deny.

Finally he put the last remnants of the cake into his mouth, taking the time to deliciously lick the rich chocolate from his long fingers. Amber gaze still unwavering.

The atmosphere was electric. The overwhelming scent of your joint arousal was becoming too difficult to ignore and so you allowed your instincts to take control. Leading you from the rickety wooden chair across the room, until you were stood between the open legs of your lover. Of your mate.

His tender hands came to rest at your waist, the heat of their teasing touch burning and you had to resist the urge to hiss at their devastating presence. Lowering your face until your lips tantalisingly brushed against his own, you plucked on the newfound bond which had settled in your chest as you finally spoke to him through the golden thread.

My gorgeous, handsome mate.

Azriel closed the gap between you, sealing his soft lips against yours as they danced together in a passionate embrace. His rough hands tugging you towards him until you were comfortably sat in his lap, your legs splayed open on either side of his firm thighs.

It was as though you were a feral beast chasing after its prey. Devouring your mates lips as your tongues entwined, teeth occasionally clashing together at the messy intensity of the kiss.

Your control had vanished, leaving no trace behind until all that remained was your profound need to take Azriel in every possible way that you could.

Your desperate hands tugged wildly at his clothes, begging the male to remove them. The overpowering need to feel his bare skin on yours was blinding.

Understanding your needs Azriel briefly broke the kiss, allowing you to pull his constricting shirt from his body, uncaring as you tossed it across the room before connecting your lips against him once more.

Able to now feel the soft warmth of his bare skin, you raked your nails along his abdomen, drawing a long deep moan from his throat. His eyes squeezed together tightly as though in pain, as though your teasing touches weren’t enough to satisfy him.

He needed more.

Azriel wanting to feel your enthralling heat wrapped around his cock as he pounded into you. Each deep thrust signalling his claim over you. Over his mate.

And so in his need and impatience, the male stood. Holding you tightly in his strong arms as he made his way to the bedroom, lips never once straying from your own.

Entering the room he softly laid you upon the silken sheets, stripping you of your clothes as his sultry gaze was finally able to look upon your naked form.

His scarred hands having a mind of their own as they travelled the expanse of your skin, drawing sinful sounds from your lips as he lightly traced your nipples before connecting his mouth to your breasts.

Taking turns in worshipping each one, leaving purple pebbles in his wake as he gently bit and sucked at the tender skin, before trailing up your body to show the same love to the sensitive skin of your neck.

All the while your hips bucked up against his own in desperation, your aching core pulsating with its need for relief.

Ever the attentive lover, Azriel slipped his hand down the contours of your body until his skilled fingers met the area where you were most sensitive. His long fingers lazily tracing circles onto your clit as he turned his smirking lips to your face.

“What is it you need princess?” He goaded, fingers continuing their circular motion, “my fingers?” He brushed them lightly against your core, “my tongue?” He traced his tongue along the line of your neck as he spoke, drawing a whiny cry from your lips.

Bucking your whips against him once more, your fingers began to grip the sheets of the bed as you begged, “your cock Az please. Give me your cock.”

“Is that what my mate desires?” He growled lowly against the sensitive skin of your neck, “For me to pound her to completion with my cock?” He slipped his fingers inside you as he spoke, pumping them to the rhythm of your moving hips as he continued to speak, “Is that what you need princess?”

Unable to speak you whined in response, eager hands unbuttoning his trousers as you longed not to waste another minute.

Compliant, Azriel removed his soaking fingers from your core. Aiding you with removing his trousers and undergarments until his aching cock stood to attention before you. Red tip already leaking from the intensity of his desire.

“I want you to fuck me like you own me Az” you breathed, locking your black eyes with his own, “show your mate how you would worship her.”

Groaning at your words, Azriel lines himself up at your core. His teasing head brushing along your folds until he finally gave in to his longing and began to push himself in.

Satisfied moans tearing from both your mouths as he continued to enter you until he was fully sheathed. Stilling for a few moments as he allowed you to adjust to his large size.

Finally, you signalled him to move by thrusting your hips upwards towards his own, begging for the male the fuck you.

And Azriel did. Pounding into you forcefully, guttural moans slipping from his lips as his hips met yours again and again. Powerful cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly.

The bond - the newly established golden thread which tied the two of you together - glowed brightly. Its presence creating an overwhelming intensity that drew you closer and closer to your completion with an unexpected ferocity.

The delicious sensation of your mates cock slipping in and out of your soaking core was enough to start to tip you over the edge of bliss, stars entering your vision with every thrust your mate delivered.

“That’s it” Azriel panted, the rhythmic movement of his hips never faltering, “You’re doing so well baby. Let it take over, show me you’re mine.”

You came undone with a pleasured cry, body spasming at the sensation as Azriel continued the brutal pace of his thrusts as he chased his own high. With your vision clouded by satisfaction, the only tell of him finding his completion was the strangled cry which tore from his throat as his thrusts finally slowed, the male delivering the last few twitching thrusts before he came undone inside of you with a groan.

Carefully, he withdrew himself from your core, moving so he was laid next to you. A gentle hand coming to caress your slightly sweaty skin, finger trailing the curve of your hips up to your ribcage before repeating the action.

“That was perfect” you hummed in contentment, pleased with the calming sensation that had settled in the wake of your high. Tired breaths still escaping from your lips.

“You think that’s it?” Azriel asked with a smirk, “My love that was just the beginning. I’ve yet to bring you apart with my tongue.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat at the promises which rolled from his lips.

“My darling mate,” he crooned, “you’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re leaving this bed before the end of the week. I’m going to explore every last heavenly inch of your body.”

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

Notes: Ummmmm if you read this no you didn’t 🫣🫣🫣 this was only my second time writing smut so I’m sorry it’s bad and let’s all forget this exists ok?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit at your lonesome perch, hidden behind the large floating screen. Your job can be isolating. People only speak with you to get to Tony and even then, they’re just as often too intimidated to approach you. You only really have any sort of mutual acquaintance with your boss and he just tells you what to do.

You expect the footsteps that approach to pass you by as you always do. Instead, a shadow appears on the other side of your extended monitor arm. You look up as green eyes glare down at you from above the frame of the screen. You sit up as you stare at Loki.

“Stark. Now.” He demands.

Your eyes skitter over to your boss’ door then back to the angry man, er, god? In front of you.

“I’ll see if he’s available, sir.” You go to open your teams and he pulls your screen so it’s above you.

“I am not asking if he’s available. I mean to speak to that mewling quim and I would do so at once,” he demands, squeezing your monitor so splotches appear below his fingertips.

“Sure,

You stand and step around the desk. He moves with you, slithering like a snake. He’s too close. You go to Tony’s door and knock. He got in late last night. You know because you had to bring a burger and shake to his house. The fabulous life of Tony Stark’s assistant.

You wait but don’t get an answer. You tap again and peek back over your shoulder, “I don’t think--”

“Enough.” He presses against your lower back and reaches around you. He twists the handle and urges you inside ahead of him. Tony’s at his desk smirking at his phone. He looks up in surprised chagrin.

“Woah, what the hell--”

“There you are.” Loki greets with sinister delight. He nudges you to the side but you can’t escape the office. You just stand there dumbly as he blocks the door. “So, I am to be ejected from this rock.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that boss,” Tony drops his phone and leans back in his chair. “Something about a criminal record. Not exactly what I would call an invasion of a city but we don’t need to go into semantics.”

“Mm, you think you’re clever. Well, I do believe you’ve forgotten who I am.” Loki stands straight, birdlike as he glowers down his long nose. “I’ve become rather acquainted with your mortal legislation. Rather antiquated but simple enough to understand.”

“Sure, and what loophole did you find, oh, might prince?” Tony challenges.

Loki snickers. It's a noise that electrifies your scalp. You don’t like that.

“Upon my understanding, and I did consult with one of your Midgardian law practitioners, I have it that I am eligible for residence upon the grounds of marriage.”

It’s Tony turn to laugh. He cackles in glee and rolls forward, leaning his elbows on his desk with interest. “Marriage? And who the hell is deluded enough to marry you?”

Loki tilts his head and smirks. His eyes stick to Tony for just a moment then crawl around the office and land on you. You frown.

“It is rather cruel to make her tell me. I'm certain she begged you not to make her but we all know the sort of creature you are.” Loki sneers and unbuttons his jacket, reaching beneath. “The very same reason why you would be entirely unaware why she shouldn't like to hurt me.”

He unfolds the paper as he strides to Tony's desk. You watch, paralysed and perplexed. Your chest thumps. What is going on?

He spreads the document under his fingers and stands straight with a triumphant smirk. Tony slides the paper closer and clicks his tongue. His eyes skim the print and his mouth falls open. He looks at you.

“What?” You gulp.

“Married. To him. You? And him?” Tony wags his finger back and forth between you and Loki.

“Married?” You squeak.

“Oh do be certain to call city hall to confirm. You will see the signatures are legitimate, as well as the stamp and registration number,” Loki boasts. “We did expect your uncouth reaction so we did keep it under lock and key until we were certain. These dire circumstances however, have forced us into the light,” he lifts his chin, “isn't that right, darling?”

“Mr. Stark,” you cross the office and try to see the paper. It can't be real. A marriage license. With your name on it. Next to his. “I swear–”

“You know what?” Tony claps his hands then slams them on the desk. He pushes himself to his feet. “I don't have the time for all this stuff. It's weird. Look, sweetheart, call me a car. As long as you do your job, I can't be bothered. Got my own shit, you know?” He glances between the two ot you again.”Very strange.”

He struts around the desk and past Loki. The taller god steps in front of him, raising and open palm.

“Ah, one more thing. She isn't your sweetheart so lets keep that to a minimum,” he pats Tony's chest and hums.

“If you've had your snaky self near it, trust me, I'm good.” Tony knocks his arm away and continues out the door.

You stare after your boss only to find your eyes drawn by the pair watching you. You make a strangled noise and throw your hands up. “Married?!”

“A wonderful ceremony. Small. But romantic,” he purrs. “I've always been rather fond of tricks and you mortals make them so much easier.”

[hazzabeeforlou]

i had a question and i hope that it doesn’t sound rude. do you feel ashamed being in the fandom and being a shipper at 32? i ask because i am 27, and have been in the fandom since 2012, off and on. i haven’t rly been in it actively for the last two years or so, but when i want to come back, i feel embarrassed. i also don’t think i could handle the stress of it tbh! lol. i hope you are well <3

I was going to answer this yesterday but then remembered I had a 7 hour drive today and didn’t want to stay up later than I already was. Because I’m an adult, with (now one) previous multiple jobs, a pet, rent, vehicle, three post high school diplomas, and student loans, and there are many things in my life I get ashamed of, like when I answer “you too” when a cashier tells me thanks for shopping or when I let a whole bag of celery go bad in my fridge without ever cleaning or eating it. Shame? At my tax dollars funding death weapons and family members voting for strong men? Sure. Latent homophobic internalized shame from my upbringing? Yeah, sometimes.

But life is too fucking short to be embarrassed or hold shame about a FANDOM. Listen, I “ship” Johnlock, or Merthur, but Larry wasn’t a ship for me it was a discovery of queer joy. Like I’m so sorry but baby Larry was real. 100%, actually, seriously legit, like how else do you fucking explain any or all of that. We watched two boys fall in love with each other and okay we don’t know the devil or the details but we have how many albums and interviews, jokes made by media personalities etc, plus the fact that now, this many years later, their solo stuff is still haunted by a nauseating back and forth, these odd lyrical choices that are echoed in the other?

Yeah it’s not a ship. It’s a thing that happened, that we witnessed, and by virtue of it happening and us witnessing it something about gay love became dreamable, reachable, attainable, soft and puppy and exciting and wild. Their secret sign language and mimed blow jobs and jealous looks and touches when they thought there were no cameras, all those things made queerness not just something you saw on Glee. Not just something your parents talked about while wrinkling their nose up about ‘those people.’ It’s a generational thing, the world has moved on, we don’t NEED Larry anymore. And that’s okay. But we don’t need it because it happened. Not to be a brat but you exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you.

And yeah, we wrote fics about highly characterized and publicized versions of Larry, often inserting our own traumas or fantasies, creating a kind of gay mythos around this witnessed event from the periphery, from the lens of the consumer, the only lens we have. But I’m not ashamed of that. You think stories are only ever written about people that don’t exist? At some point you have to acknowledge that in our world, celebrities are the deities of our popular imagination. I could write a thesis, but before I get into the weeds, suffice to say Harry and Louis have created a world of what can be, unburdened by what has been.

Yk? Anyways. Hope this made you feel better. And hope you come back to visit from time to time. I’ll be here.

[a-living-canvas]

Absolute Obedience

"Whumpee, be my chair."

"Yes, master." Whumpee complied. They kneeled on all fours as Whumper sat on their back. "Is this comfortable, master?"

"Mhm."

…

"Master…?

"Shut your mouth. Chairs aren't supposed to talk."

"Yes, master."

…

"Whumpee, go make me a drink."

"Yes, master." Whumpee slowly made their way to the kitchen. They made an orange juice for Whumper, served them with a slight bow.

"Here, master."

"Good. Now kneel again."

"Yes, master." Whumpee kneeled again. They put on a smile when Whumper poured the orange juice right on their head. Whumper chuckled,

"You like that?"

"Yes, master. I like it."

 "Whumpee, light my cigarette." 

Whumpee nodded, they reached for Whumper's lighter on the table and flicked it on their cigarette. Whumper took a long drag before blowing off the smoke in the air. Whumpee just watched silently as Whumper continued smoking on the couch.

"Whumpee, be my ashtray."

"Yes, master."

Whumpee stuck out their tongue for Whumper, their eyes shut in pain as the burning sensation from the cigarette touched their soft muscle. "Does it feel good, Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded, jaw hanging loosely. "Yes…master…"

Whumper grinned, they put the cigarette inside Whumpee's mouth as they looked down at them with malicious intent.

"Chew and swallow it."

Whumpee's breath came to a halt. They slowly complied as they chewed the cancer stick around their mouth. They almost spit the content out but Whumper placed a hand over their mouth, preventing them from doing so.

"Now, swallow it."

Whumpee consumed the cigarette down their throat. They coughed out as their eyes started tearing up. Whumper ruffled their hair in a mocking manner.

"That's your meal for today. Do you like it?"

"Y-yes, master…"

"Good…now spew it out."

"...w-what?"

Whumper squeezed Whumpee's cheek, smiling innocently. "Spew it out. Do you think it's a good idea to eat a cigarette, you dumb fool?"

Whumpee swallowed hard. They put two fingers inside their mouth and placed them at the start of their throat. They pressed the spot a little before they started throwing up on the floor. Whumper watched in glee, their chin rested lazily on their knuckles as Whumpee's body twitched and trembled from the sensation.

Whumper laughed loudly. They stood up from the couch and pushed their foot down on Whumpee's head, their face made contact with the vomit. The smell filled up their nostrils, making their stomach felt queasy again.

"Who's your master?"

"Y-you…master…"

"Who do you belong to?"

"You…master…"

Whumper smiled giddly. They grabbed a fistful of Whumpee's hair and yanked it harshly upwards. Their eyes met each other as Whumper breath grazed lightly on Whumpee's skin.

"You are mine." They stated, searching for Whumpee's eyes for any sign of defiance. But they found none. Instead, Whumpee formed a genuine smile.

…

…

…

"I am yours, Master…"

~

Part 2

[kookies2000]

A Smile Behind the Crown Chapter 1

Wonderland Au

Au by @endomentendo

Sorry this took so long. It started off as a one shot and kinda turned into a story with over 15 to 20 chapters........... so I hope I make you proud!!!!

…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….

Tik Tok and tok tik

The sounds likes to haunt

Smiling when the time is down

Work with the needs of the royal crown

Hands on the clock move round and round

Wipe wipe wipe, clean windows, clear vision

Chop chop chop, all the way in the kitchen

Sweep sweep sweep, across the halls

Brush brush brush the walls

Cut cut cut the green grass

Tap tap tap the glass

Keep my head

Rest in bed

Repeat

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Day and night

Go to the left and right

Plant the roses in their beds

All of this so I don't lose my head

Do as I'm told so I don't end up dead

Work in the heat and breaking a sweat

Hello and goodbye to the queen and king

Clean through autumn and through the spring

The bounds around my ankles cause pain

They clink and clang as I walk with chains

Voice so loud with screams it's strained

Tears on my cheeks left me with stains

Throat so dry I can't even complain

My emotions are a big hurricane

Family and friends are in vain

I have no one to blame

Started with a flame

Pain hit like a train

Tik tok, tik tok!

LET ME

OUT!

…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….

Oh, it didn't use to be like this. No, it used to be magical. A world full of colour and laughter. I would jump from tree to tree, and run on water, all as long as I never let go of his hand. I was always safe and sound throughout my childhood. Running so fast I was lifted into the air. Running on air, stepping on clouds, and falling in the air at record speeds. I didn't care if the ground got closer. I embraced the feeling of the air running through my skin and dress. Arms out as if to hug something that wasn't there. Only to disappear before the ground can hurt me. It was all….. so………. pulchritudinous! And to imagine it used to be all so blurry. Hidden away in my brain with other memories I couldn't remember. Like they were just whisked away into a field of forgotten. Begging to be found.

As happy as I am to finally remember my family and friends, I wish it didn't come at this cost. But I would rather be locked up with my loved ones and rot in here with them, no regrets and in the arms of everyone I love.

Almost everyone. I wonder where he is. Did he escape? I hope he did, he doesn't deserve to be locked in this inky blackness and consumed by sadness. Even if he was a thorn in the side. What I wouldn't give to see his glowing smile again.

24 years ago

Tossing and turning in her bed, she was so excited for today. She couldn't help but smile throughout her sleep, just waiting for the sun to rise. The very second the golden rays rose, she kicked the blankets off her bed and didn't even bother putting on shoes. Her little bare feet created tiny stepping sounds that echoed on the empty halls. She couldn't wait any longer! She had to see if everything was set up. Her head didn't even reach the windows for her to look out. So with every step she would leap into the air to look out the windows. Her heart skipped when she saw a glimpse of silver and white decorations.

Filled with glee, she sprinted across the halls as fast as she could. So fast her feet barely touched the ground and she could feel herself get lifted into the air.

“Where are you going?” Literally lifted into the air. She felt a pair of warm arms wrap around her and lift her up. She smiled knowing who's beautiful voice this belonged to.

“The coronation is today!” She chimed as she flapped her arms and kicked her feet. The woman held her closer and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, it is. But it doesn't start until sunset. There's still lots to do before the princess is crowned.” The lady walked the little girl back into her room.

“But mama!” The little girl groaned in disappointment. Her mom placed her back in bed and went to her closet. Her hands brushing against every piece of clothing as if examining each one.

“No buts Ann, the castle must be neat and tighty.” The mother pulled out a maids dress that was the size of her daughters. Ann groaned again and fell back into her bed, throwing the blanket over her head.

“Mama!” her voice was muffled by the blanket.

“Oh Ann, we don't want our future queen to be crowned in a mess, now do we?” her mother placed the cleaning dress onto the bed and gently tugged at the blanket. She heard her daughter sigh before popping back out of the blanket. Her face had a slight pout and her button eye was covered by her dark hair.

Her eye looked down at the dress before her, blue and white, her favourite colours.

“Ok mama.” she gave in and pulled her dress closer. Her mom smiled warmly at the sight of her little one. So small, so innocent and clean. She ran her plushed hand through her daughter's head full of yarn, pulling it away from her face. She sighed at the sight of her pink button eye, a trait she shared with her aunt.

Once dressed, she held her mother's hand and out of her room they went. She felt her mother's doll-like hand place itself on her back and straightened her out.

“Stand up straight dear, no slouching.” She said in her usual warm voice. Ann nodded and kept her posture straight as they walked the halls. The red carpet below them nudged them along as if it was also in a hurry.

“Yes, yes, we are going.” The mother giggled as the carpet below them kept bending and moving to make them move faster. Curtains to every window moved aside to let in the new sunlight. Blinding Ann for a moment before she was given a sponge to start cleaning the glass. The curtains lifted the young Ann off the floor and higher so she could clean the upper windows.

“Thank you.” Ann smiled politely.

Everyday was the same. Bed at seven, wake up at five eleven. Clean the windows and brush the curtains. Once done, dust the dust bunnies away from the armoured knights. She always felt bad doing this though. The dust bunnies always ran for their lives.

“Dust off the lint from your bow.” Her aunt patted her head as she vacuumed the halls. Sucking up any dust bunnies that tried to make a run for it. The red carpet had to be free of dirt, and so did Ann apparently. That never made sense to the young girl.

The garden was beautiful. Flowers dancing in their pots and singing a beautiful morning song. Bushes and trees ran to their place as gardeners prepared a new hole for them to rest in.

“Arms firm.” Her father helped her hold the shovel. They dug and dug for what seemed like forever. Leaving holes for the new white roses that were impatiently tapping their leaves.

“Snobs.” Ann whispered under her breath, letting her father receive a slap to the face.

“I didn't say anything!” Her father looked at the roses confused.

Then it was lunch time, at long last. She can sit for a while and relax.

“Pinky out.” Her mother whispered gently as they had their lunch break. Maybe not relax. Even in her free time she had to be prim and proper. Even walking across the garden with her aunt was a chore.

“What did we talk about slouching?” Her aunt fixed Ann’s back again and placed her arms behind her back, “No twiddling your fingers dear!”

Ann nodded yes and did as told.

“Open your mouth wide!” Her aunt commanded. Ann did as told and opened as wide as she could, “Now, with proper articulation, what will we say when her majesty speaks to you?”

“Yes your majesty!” She bowed the best a 6 year old can. Her stubby legs felt a little unsteady as she did. Her aunt took notice of her niece having trouble and held her steady.

“Practice, dear, practice.” Her aunt assured her. Ann nodded and kept her balance.

Practice, they told her. Practice everyday. She had to learn how to dance, how to read, how to garden, how to eat like a lady, and how to do everything with grace and elegance. It was repetitive, boring even. But it was peaceful. No risks, no danger, no worries. Just a steady life. And Ann was expected to follow this steady life until the end.

She felt a yawn come as she dusted the library. Quiet, with not a single sound interrupting it. The little girl sighed but a little smile remained. She dusted all the desks from the library, making sure not a single dust bunny remained. She sighed once more as she hopped on her toes to dust the shelves, she could barely reach the second row of books.

“Need help?” Her brother's voice spoke up. He was no taller than her but definitely took more risks. He dragged a chair behind him and slammed it next to her. He took the duster from her doll hands and dusted the second and third row of books.

“Thanks Randy.” Ann smiled her usual sweet smile. He gave a confident thumbs up and climbed the shelf some more to get the rows above.

As she watched her brother help, she looked around the library to see all the books organised and neat. The setting sun shined a radiant red onto them making them look like they glowed. Her eye landed on all the fairytale books she read. Books about magic, witches, dragons, curses, nothing wonderland hasn't seen. Princesses, queens, kings, and of course a prince. She adored these books to death. The excitement they created, the world's they shared, and the beautiful moments of love they told. She consumed every last word her 6 year old mind can process. How she wished she could experience these moments. Run to the mountains, see the world from above, climb every tree in sight and defeat enemies! And find a charming prince on the way that can rescue her from danger.

“It's almost time kids!” They heard their aunt come in. Ann's day dream came to an end and left her in reality. Unlike the books she read, she wasn't destined for a great adventure or even a prince. She was destined to clean and be a maid. Destined to wake up, get dressed, clean the halls, clean the restrooms, clean the windows, vacuumed the carpets, fix the garden, sleep and repeat. All while looking proper. It was near to impossible to do all this but it was more than possible in Wonderland.

But she can't complain, her family loved her.

They loved her so much they finished their chores early so Ann can get ready and wear her best dress to the coronation. A dress her father requested the Chatter family to create for her. She loved that family. They were always so colourful and made her laugh like chimes in the wind.

After she put on her dress, she looked at herself in the mirror to see it consumed her entire body. Forget me not flowers decorated her waist and hair. The dress was blue and white to match everyone else. It puffed out so much she had to raise her arms to not wrinkle the smooth silk. It was time.

She happily arrived at the castle's garden, listening to the trees hum a tune as the birds chirped along. The flowers sang along and swayed back and forth as they awaited the princess. She couldn't wait to see her. Their future queen! Ann kicked her feet and clapped her hands in excitement, she swore she would explode.

Seconds felt like hours to her until finally the horns sounded. She gasped and looked down the altar with everyone else. There she was, the princess soon to be queen. Dressed in a sparkling white and blue dress that outshines the stars themselves. Ann clapped excitedly as the princess walked down the garden with all eyes on her. Graceful, beautiful, magnificent, and elegant. Everything this kingdom needed. Once at the end of the aisle, the princess bowed to her family and the Chatter family. Everyone had proud smiles on as the king began his speech.

“Today is a special day for my daughter!” The king announced. As he spoke, Ann looked over at the Chatter family. An odd bunch, in fact they were considered the oddest of the odd. Their heads were nothing but a pair of dentures while other family members had a deck of cards for a head. But that was the beauty of the Chatter family, they were a colourful and wondrous sight to behold. And mist if all, her friend was there!

A little boy around her age was holding the golden crown. His hat too large for his head, or jaw in this case. The poor thing only had one eye to see with as the other was covered by the ribbon of his hat. His blue eye scanned the guests and he gasped in delight when he saw the doll.

“Hi!” Ann whispered loudly and waved. The young pair of teeth waved back, dropping the crown for a split second.

“Careful Chatter.” His mom caught the crown before it could hit the ground. The young boy could only chuckle nervously as he held still for the ceremony.

“ Please rise!” The king announced. Ann hopped out of her seat just like everyone else. All eyes locked on the scene before them, “Bring me the crown!”

The moment the king announced this, little boy Chatter scurried across the stage and held up the crown high and proudly. The ribbon of his hat covered both his eyes in the process. The king and queen chuckled at the adorable sight.

“Thank you my dear.” The queen smiled and took the crown from the little Chatter. Chatter gleefully clapped his hands and ran back to his family as the king hovered the crown over his daughters head.

“I hereby present my daughter this crown. Which will symbolise power, generosity, kindness, bravery and intelligence. Qualities she worked hard everyday to perfect so she can rule this land! And today, she will be known as the new queen of Wonderland!” The king announced. The very second the crown rested upon the new queen's head, the garden was filled with cheers and claps. People welcomed the new leader with open arms and congratulated her as she and her family walked down the aisle.

As everyone began to move to the ballroom for the celebratory dinner, Ann ran through the crowd to find her friend. Her only friend in this castle really. The castle kids usually had a busy schedule like her so they didn't spend much time together. Or they were higher ups like the kids of the ladies in waiting or the royal family. She never crossed paths with them much.

But the little Chatter lived in the servants quarters with her and her family. He was the son of a simple hat maker and a dress designer. While wacky and colourful, Chatter liked to stay put in the castle.

“We have all we need here!” He exclaimed as he and Ann walked in the garden with other children playing around. The Chatter hopped onto a leaf and tapped his foot. The leaf raised the little boy into the air as he waved his hands in the air like a showman.

“Why, and I do mean why, would anyone want to leave this magical castle?” He chimed. He looked down at a smiling Ann with a smile of his own.

“It was just a thought Chatter.” Ann twiddled with her fingers and looked around the garden. Her eye scan all the smiling faces of every child. Everyone was so happy and content with their lives inside the walls and sometimes she questioned why.

They lived in a world of wonder and magic. A world where normality didn't exist and anything can happen. Yet everyone seemed content in this box they were in. It was almost as if everyone was hiding from something, maybe from someone.

“You know what they say my dear Ann!” Chatter hopped off the leaf and glided his way next to her. His arms out like a proud little boy as he chimed like the cleanest of wind pipes, “A single drop of thought can cause the biggest splash of ideas!”

“Oh?” Ann tilted her head in curiosity, “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea!” Chatter chimed again in glee, “But my mom tells me that every night. If it's important enough to be said by her, it must be true!”

A soft giggle escaped the doll's mouth. She loved her friend to death but she still wished he would see things like her. Oh well, she can be the only dreamer in this castle and she'll still be happy.

“Look out!!!” She heard a kids voice call out. Ann turned around and ducked just in time when an apple flew past her head.

“Ow!” Chatter shouted when he felt the fruit slam against his eye. Ann gave a gasp of concern and ran to her friend.

“You ok?” She helped him sit up. His eyes rolled around like googly eyes, not being able to look at her in the eyes straight.

“Chipper as a sing-song bird!” Chatter chimed happily, giving her a dizzy smile. Ann giggled at the silly sight of her friend. Always so happy, so full of life and never had a dark day in his life. He always wore his best bright red suite and a hat too big for him……… where's his hat?

“Your hat!” Ann patted his empty head. Chatter could only respond with a “huh” and pat his head. He shook his head, finally fixing his spinning eyes, but they were clearly still trying to focus. Ann saw the hat flying away into the woods nearby and looked back at her friend. One pupil was bigger than the other, indicating he still couldn't see well.

“I'll get it for you!” Ann lifted the dress of her skirt and ran off to get the runaway hat. The hat flew into the dark woods and the little doll followed. Her little mind not even thinking twice about what she was running into.

In fact, her little mind didn't even realise she had some eyes following her every move.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

Tending (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

Notes: I am enjoying this way too much, I have work to finish yet here I am making sure my children are fed.

Credit goes to @/cafekitsune for the borders!

Picking the harvest was probably one of your favorite things this season. The soft sounds of nature that surround the garden as the sun lays its gentle rays upon the earth while picking the fruits and veggies give your mind a wave of peace. 

It's absolutely lovely.

Lifting that straw hat upon your head, you swiped off the sweat and dirt that had built up during your time outside. There are still traces of summer well into September, despite the dawns and evenings filling with a slight chill. 

Jack Frost sure is taking his time, huh?

There's a sense of pride that fills your very being to the brim as you examine the juicy Brandywine and Roma tomatoes that fill the wicker basket in your hold—not a single blemish or bruise on them, all are perfect! And they seem to be a lot bigger this year than the previous.

A sign of luck, you like to think it. If this year's harvest is bountiful, then the year will be prosperous.

A saying a dear relative always repeated whenever you helped out in their garden.

With a huff, you will your legs to stand straight from your crouched position, several of your joints popping from being in such a crouched stature for so long, heading over to the shaded porch where Painter resided to trade the full wicker basket for an empty one. 

And maybe some water, too. Harvesting is time-consuming, and your throat is parched.

"Hey Paints," The basket made a heavy *THUD* causing some of the items on the table to make a small jump from the force, Painter's monitor and tablet being no exception, giving the AI a small startle.

"I'm painting here." With a hiss, their narrowed eyes fixed themselves onto your sweat-riddled frame. You merely gave an apologetic smile, snatching the basket you came for and backing off before the AI started insulting you in various languages. . .

Again.

~~~

Clip. Clip. Clip.

Large scaly fingers gently picked the green beans off the bustling bush they hung from with care to not accidentally crush them, the wicker basket set beside him steadily filling up with the surprisingly immense abundance of the green capsules. He could probably make some carbonda for dinner tonight. . .

It probably won't be on par with Mama's, pero quién sabe?

Hopefully there's enough potatoes ready. . .

A feeling of excitement fills him at the thought of making one of his favorite dishes that he ate with enjoyment growing up and sharing it with you, his favorite person.

He could already imagine your look of delight when you take your first bite of the soup, smiling wide with glee and eyes wide with surprise as you go for your second bite, little hums of delight escaping your lips as you savor the taste.

Readjusting the straw hat that was slowly falling off his head with one of his hands, and slightly pulling back on his esca—grabbing the basket with the second— Sebastian moves on to the next patch in need of harvesting once he deemed there was no more beans to pick anymore—slithering his way towards where the red-potatoes were growing, being mindful to not accidentally smush his tail on any of the plants.

A soft breeze passes by, gently swaying the plants and trees along with it. It also made Sebastian suddenly aware of the sweat clinging to his tank top and hair, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of sweat and cloth sticking to his torso.

Though Sebastian is no longer human, he still maintains some of his most annoying human traits.

"Damn this summer heat."

~~~

Painter got a bit tired of the heat, as it was unfortunately messing with their hardware. Nothing too serious, but you wish for your friend to be comfortable, so you placed them back inside by a fan and a window.

Well, now would probably be a good time to get some water.

Swinging open the screen door with your hip, you walk back into the garden refreshed and with a new mission in mind, with two ice-cold glasses of water in hand as you survey your surroundings to find where your lover is in the garden.

It doesn't take much looking, as you spot him slithering towards the back porch with a full basket as he fusses about with his shirt, frustrated mutters slipping out every so often the closer he gets.

With a smile, you call out to him, relishing in the way his head snaps up to meet your gaze, a look of tenderness overtaking his face once he approaches.

"Mi Amor~" Once he was close enough, he used his two free hands to wrap themselves around your waist, settling the basket full of harvest down on the table next to you—nuzzling his face into your hair as he breaths your scent in, the tension that was once present in his shoulders now ebbing away.

You could practically hear the loud purring resonating within his chest the longer he held you, the low vibrations resonating throughout your whole body.

Ah, your little fishy kitty.

Unfortunately, you don't wish to spill the water, so you push him back a few inches with your elbow—though his hands now rest upon your hips, rubbing small circles as he fixes you with a coy smile.

"Hi baby," Standing on the tips of your toes, you press a kiss against his cheek, letting out an exaggerated 'Muah!' before pulling away, handing him his glass, "-thought you would've wanted something cool to drink."

"It's much appreciated, my dear." With a grateful squeeze of his hands, he brings the glass to his lips as he downs the water quickly, Adam's apple bobbing with every swallow; the glass emptied in seconds as he lets out a sound of delight, his tail thumping softly at the wooden floor boards of the porch.

Placing the empty glass on the table beside you, he flashes you with that handsome smile you loved oh so very much, his sharp teeth adding to the charm. Oh GOD DAMN. You could feel the beat of your heart fluttering rapidly within your chest as you looked into his eyes, full of love and adoration.

Those very same eyes looking at you.

Is it getting hot out here, or is that just you?

"Thank you, Starfish. If I stayed any longer out here I probably would've dried up!" He jokes, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins, adding to his gorgeous features.

. . .The sudden urge to smother him in kisses is very strong.

Quickly snapping out of your starstrucked spell, you replied with a joking tone as well, "Oh, you poor thing~!" With a playful pinch to his cheek, you give a gentle tug and wiggle before letting go, not without Sebastian sticking his tongue out in playful distaste.

"I'll make sure to water you if that ever happens," Embracing him once again, you nuzzle yourself the best you can into the crook of his neck, breathing in his citrus yet woody musk, "-my Little Froggit."

A few beats of silence pass by, before the both of you laughed aloud at the absurdity of words that has tumbled from your mouth. His shoulders are shaking as he attempts to shush his laugher, hand flying to his mouth to further contain them from slipping out, but it was no use. What felt like hours when it was merely seconds, the sound of laughter finally winded down—the both of you left breathless, only a quiet chuckle here and there could be heard as the atmosphere calmed around the two of you.

The two of you merely stood on the porch as you settled into comfortable quiet as your surroundings filled it with natures tune.

Seconds passed, eventually turning into minutes, then rolling into hours.

The sun hung low in the sky, making it through the last bit of his long trek down as it climbed lower and lower along the welkin, shadows elongating as the colors in the sky changed, the tune of the forest now changing as the sun dipped lower against the horizon—shining his last rays of light upon the soil of the earth before being overtaken by the moon and the stars.

The moon may not have been full this night, but she still showered the land below with her soft light as the woods became alive. The trees echoed with the sounds of the nocturnal, from the hauntingly beautiful howls of the wolves to the playful yips of the foxes. From within the trees, you could see the faint light of the fireflies luminescence bodies within the dark.

With a tired huff, you leaned more of your weight into Sebastian, sleep gently ebbing away at your brain as your eyelids drooped lower and lower. How long were we out here for? You try to think of when the two of you went out into the garden, but it seems to fade away as your mind slowly turns sluggish; craving a long needed rest.

"Tired?" Sebastian voice seems to be a lot closer to your ear, a pleasant warmth filling your mind as if you ate the smoothest of ambrosia and the sweetest of honey, nudging you closer to the land of dreams.

"Mhm. . ."

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?" The sound of movement met your ears as the floor below you disappears, now cradled within his arms as he sneaks into the house.

"But we haven't ate yet. . . or showered" You mumbled a protest as a yawn interrupts your sentence mid-way, attempting to climb out of his arms, but to no avail as he merely held you closer to his chest.

"I'll wake you up to make sure you eat and shower. Okay?"

". . .Mkay."

"Good,"He opens the door to your shared room, "-now let's get you ready for bed." Sebastian places you on the large bed with care as he slithers over to the dresser, picking out a pair of sweats and one of your favorite sleeping shirts before coming back to the bed. With some trouble, he helps peels off your dirty clothes, then handing you the clean ones before tucking you in bed.

Everything is hazy, your eyes are barely open. Your body feels so heavy with exhaustion, muttering out a small 'love you', to your lover before sleep finally took over. Transporting you to the land of dreams.

"Sleep well, cariño." With a kiss to your head, Sebastian slips out the bedroom with caution, carefully closing the door shut once the last bit of his tail makes it through. He listens to any shuffling from your side of the door, and relaxes when he doesn't hear any, only your breathing.

Now, let's make carbonda, shall we?

Last Part, Next Part (?)

[srbachchan]

DAY 5971

Jalsa, Mumbai June 23/24, 2024 Sun/Mon 12:42 AM

🪔 ,

June 24 .. birthday greetings to Ef Agnes James .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

💍 .. marriage anniversary greetings to Ef Kala Yadav .. for June 24 .. love and happiness always .. 💐🙏🏻🚩❤️

and the wishes from the entire Ef family .. wellness and care ever

a large and genuine guidance and the future for AI , as a part of an evening spent with the knowledged .. exhaustive , informative , admirable , somewhat apprehensive and scary .. but information all the same ..

every future thought has ever come from this feel .. and even though then it sounded an unknown oppressive or perhaps too futuristically impossible - it happened .. and happened well .. well enough to be sitting today talking of the past and having the vision of what is to come , with a greater belief ..

a greater belief because , what was thought of .. err .. THOUGHT OF , yesterday , is passé now .. and in time the next thought shall face similar , but with greater belief !!

BELIEF .. !! aah , another impression of understanding ..

The evolved , the connected , .. the ONE .. say in some definite definition ..

" I do not believe in anything .. I do not believe in believing " ..

And an entire thought on believing .. it starts from to 'know' .. knowing starts from doubt .. how to believe in doubt etc., and on and on and on ..

Someday more shall be consumed some other day ..

BUT .. Sunday specials were on and consumed with glee .. and effort to be able to construct a platform , a mobile platform so that the fans and well wishers from across the location get an opportunity to see .. to put wheels on it to move closer and round about to the well wishers .. tried , but it did not work .. more effort to be put in, by the manufacturing department .. !!

gave out T Shirts and posters made by dedicated well wisher Sunil of Surat ..

and err .. some were outsized .. not without credible cause though

🤣

love and the love ness of the night .. !!

Amitabh Bachchan

Birthday - EF - Agnes James & Ef Donna Lisch

Monday, 24 June

[x-ladydisdain-x]

Sing is literally a piece of genius. They made a bad pop song with simple but very direct lyrics, the kind of thing that would get itself on teen choice awards and glee and pop radio stations but still very clearly get their point across. an infiltration of mainstream culture. using the very thing they were critiquing, mainstream media, as a platform to spread the message to a larger audience who hadn’t been exposed to that kind of thinking yet. the people who really needed to hear it, who were the people who wouldn’t have paid attention to the same message being conveyed in the same style as their music on the black parade or earlier, the people, specifically younger people still trying to find a place in the world, who would have been consuming exclusively mainstream pop. popular tv shows, teen pop culture award shows, pop radio, etc all spreading the words “they’re gonna sell what tomorrow means” “raise your voice every single time they try to shut your mouth” “cleaned up, corporation progress, dying in the process” “I am not the singer that you wanted but a dancer, I refuse to answer” “wrote it for the ones who want to get away - keep running”

sing accomplished exactly what it was created for, it was executed perfectly in that regard

[lunarbruja]

Shadow Shifter that likes messing with you

[18+]

The infinite void you see at night where your sense of certainty shatters, because the dark plays tricks on you.

Creaks and groans are heard in the middle of the night ever since you moved to this apartment. At first you thought; 'that's just how a house works,' but over the next few weeks the creaks and noise began to get louder, only at night and only in hidden dark areas. It feels like the noise only seems to begin whenever you're alone.

Little by little, your sense of calm begins to shift, despite checking the areas during the day. Despite calling the landlord and not finding anything and despite the day your mom slept over where it was the first night in weeks where the entire house was quiet. It feels like someone is playing a trick on you, the noise building up and regardless trying to find the source, nothing ever appears.

At this point, you're already searching for a new apartment, scrolling for something with the same price range but with no luck. You're tired, you're annoyed, and you've just had about enough of it. Around 1 am, the quiet takes over, and with no noise for a few hours, your heavy eyes start to close for just a second, then a minute, then hours.

By the time it was 3 am, the darkness begins to shift in the moonlight from under your bed. Slowly, enveloping the bed from the end before making it's way to your skin. The darkness stretched out a hand to gently stroke your thigh before taking in your scent. Smelling the stress, pent up fear, and frustrations of the person that was occupying this space made him grin maliciously in glee. He couldn't help but chuckle in his mind how much you looked wound up in your sleep. Leaning lower, his face covered in shadow, looming over your thighs. His mouth opening up to reveal his razor sharp fangs and black tongue. Slowly licking your soft skin, taking in your sweet taste from the sweat off her body, unable to hold back his growls and the drool coming from his tongue.

The tension and fear tasted delicious, he wanted to taste more, he wanted to savor it and devour at the same time. His long tongue moving down to lick your clit softly. He growled excitedly, he couldn't hold back and continued to lick up and down your now secreting clit. Instinctively, your hips begin to move as you let out a small groan, and because you hadn't slept well for weeks, you feel incredibly groggy. All you could feel is this warmth emanating inside and out, feeling someone's tongue glide over your slit before hungrily feasting on your pussy.

Your heartbeat racing from the unknown but oh god it's first time you've felt this good in weeks. Moaning and whimpering getting louder, getting needier. Your pussy throbbing from the pleasure while the shadow can feel you tensing up even more. His tongue flicking your clit as he moves one of his limbs down to squeeze your firm ass.

He begins to tease your asshole by rubbing it gently and with the same motion as he's licking your clit. Your eyes begin to swell up with tears as you moan and speak in a begging tone. "Please...I need it...please..."

It's been so long since...actually...wait...you've never been touched this way. Your body has never felt this hunger before. It felt raw, possessive, and it consumed you as if you're both dining on your last meal and you're savoring every bite. Your hips now moving in sync with the shifter as he circles tongue around your clit.

"I'm gonna cum..." You say in a hurried tone, unable to hold back the wave of pleasure hitting you over and over again. You couldn't stop, and he knew.

Feasting on your juices, his growls growing louder with lust. You can hear the rumbling from your thighs as your eyes are fluttering rapidly. Before you could even mumble, you feel the darkness take over and fall into a deep sleep.

[intynidad]

I love the cult Yandere fics you have done! They’re really well written and a joy for me to read!

I’m curious what you think what would happen if the reader came down with a terrible illness? How would the cult members feel or react?

Thanks for reading this and I hope you are having a wonderful day/night ^_^

Im glad you guys liked the yandere cult serie! This might be a little short

Warning: not really yandere but just in case?? , mention fainting, cult things, looking at somebody sleep

It was a seemingly ordinary evening within the cult, with most of the followers diligently tending to their tasks in the fields. However, a sense of curiosity and concern started to circulate among them as they noticed your absence.

"Have any of you seen our esteemed leader, Y/N?" a young woman inquired, her brow furrowing with worry. "They are usually up and about by this time."

A discussion ensued among the group, each member expressing their willingness to check on you. Voices overlapped as they debated who should have the honor and responsibility of ensuring your well-being.

"I believe I should go and see if they are alright," one voice asserted confidently.

"Why should you be the one to check on them?" another voice chimed in, challenging the first.

A third voice joined the debate, its tone filled with determination. "I have a closer bond with our leader. It should be me who goes to inquire about their well-being."

The exchange quickly escalated as more voices joined the fray, each passionately arguing why they were the most suitable candidate to fulfill this important task. The once calm and serene atmosphere in the cult now buzzed with the intensity of their determination to reach you.

"No, I should be the one to go!"

"Wait, I've known our leader the longest! It's my duty to check on them!"

The voices blended together, rising and falling in a cacophony of competing interests. Each follower believed they possessed a unique connection with you, and their ardor to fulfill this duty was evident.

The fields that were buzzing with work a few moments ago came to a halt, that is until a lone figure emerged from the central tent.

“Oh great leader!We were worried about you!”- one voice exclaimed with glee and with that, the fight stopped and all of the followers were around you.

As the cacophony of voices surrounded you, a disoriented feeling washed over you. Your head felt hot, and your stomach churned with unease. Strangely, you couldn't recognize any of the voices that were engaged in the fervent debate.

You tried to make sense of it all, desperately searching for familiar faces or even a trace of recognition. But amidst the fervor and the overwhelming flood of voices, it seemed impossible to pinpoint a source of familiarity.

The last thing you remember was a series of screams as you closed your eyes and your legs gave up

….

When you woke up you where in your bed, a damp cloth on your forehead and a note by your bedside…well several notes one your bedside

You picked one that was written in a more formal way and didnt had any hearts drawn on them

“Dear leader, i am the medic on duty, at the time im writing this letter you been asleep for 2 hours and i can’t stay on your tent any longer without the rest of your followers skinning me alive.

Please take the glass of water next to this note and take some of the herbal medicine i prepare, ill check on you when i get the time

I love you

Rest well”

You decided to ignore the last part of the note and take your medicine unaware of the abnormal large shadow that extend next to your pillow.

After taking the herbal medicine, you went back to sleep unaware of the darkness that started to consume your tent, only when you were sleep a figure emerged from the pool of shadow and tower over your sleeping form

“My poor little lamb…” the figure says in a almost undetectable whisper.

Their clawed hand looms over your cheek but as it got closer it just went right through it

“Not yet” the figure says “but soon”

Since they managed to contact one of the followers with the promise of you as a prize if they worshiped him, things were finally starting to change

The chains that bind them to their realm were ever more weak, after all they couldn’t project themself as a shadow into your realm before…

They gave you one last look and a small “kiss” to your forehead (even thought it went right through you), you deserved to rest

[deadpanwalking]

“No, I brought my own food. I brought pieces of lightly fried whiting. Chicken schnitzels in an egg batter. Tomatoes, which I ate like apples. Fried cauliflower. Pickled garlic. Marinated peppers, though these could be leaky. Sliced lox. Salami. If plain old sandwiches, then with spiced kebabs where your turkey would be. Soft fruit bruises easily, but what better inter-meal snacks than peaches and plums? (You needed inter-meal snacks, just in case.)

[...]

One of the few things that seem to make Americans even more uncomfortable than being very close to each other for six hours in cramped quarters is when the next person over keeps pulling tinfoil bundles smelling sharply of garlic out of his rucksack. (I was kicked out of a bed once for radiating too much garlic under the covers. It was my father’s fault, I tried to explain—in America he had converted to saltless cooking, and now garlic was his one-to-one substitute; I had just had dinner with my parents. “Downstairs,” she commanded.) With the extra peripheral vision that is a kind of evolutionary adaptation for refugees, persecuted people, and immigrants, I would sense, on the plane, sideways glances of savage, disturbed curiosity. Sometimes I swiveled and committed the unpardonable sin of gazing directly at my neighbor, whereupon her eyes broadened, her forehead rose, and the rictus of a stunned smile overtook her agony.

Sometimes we ate raw onions like apples, too, I wanted to tell her. Sometimes, the tinfoil held shredded chicken petrified in aspic. A fish head to suck on! I was filled with shame and hateful glee: everything I was feeling turned out at the person next to me.

I was the one with an uncut cow’s tongue uncoiling in the refrigerator of his undergraduate quad, my roommates’ Gatorades and half-finished pad Thai keeping a nervous distance. I sliced it thinly, and down it went with horseradish and cold vodka like the worry of a long day sloughing off, those little dots of fat between the cold meat like garlic roasted to paste.

I am the one who fried liver. Who brought his own lunch in an old Tupperware to his cubicle in the Condé Nast Building; who accidentally warmed it too long, and now the scent of buckwheat, stewed chicken, and carrots hung like radiation over the floor, few of whose inhabitants brought lunch from home, fewer of whom were careless enough to heat it for too long if they did, and none of whom brought a scent bomb in the first place. Fifteen floors below, the storks who staffed the fashion magazines grazed on greens in the Frank Gehry cafeteria.

I was the one who ate mashed potatoes and frankfurters for breakfast. Who ate a sandwich for breakfast. Strange? But Americans ate cereal for dinner. Americans ate cereal, period, that oddment. They had a whole thing called “breakfast for dinner.” And the only reason they were right and I was wrong was that it was their country.

The problem with my desire to pass for native was that everything in the tinfoil was so fucking good. When the world thinks of Soviet food, it thinks of all the wrong things. Though it was due to incompetence rather than ideology, we were local, seasonal, and organic long before Chez Panisse opened its doors. You just had to have it in a home instead of a restaurant, like British cooking after the war, as Orwell wrote. For me, the food also had cooked into it the memory of my grandmother’s famine; my grandfather’s black-marketeering to get us the “deficit” goods that, in his view, we deserved no less than the political VIPs; all the family arguments that paused while we filled our mouths and our eyes rolled back in our heads. Food was so valuable that it was a kind of currency—and it was how you showed love. If, as a person on the cusp of thirty, I wished to find sanity, I had to figure out how to temper this hunger without losing hold of what fed it, how to retain a connection to my past without being consumed by its poison.”

Boris Fishman, Savage Feast: Three Generations, Two Continents, and a Dinner Table (a Memoir with Recipes)

[fanaticsnail]

Perfection

Tobiuo Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,200+

Synopsis: Several members of the Heart, Kid, and Straw Hat pirates engage in a game of Poker. When Shachi runs out of Berry, he decides to bet something a little more interesting: Tobiuo's kiss.

Themes: Heat x Tobiuo, Canon x OC, gambling, drinking, kissing, yearning, unrequited love, infatuation, fascination, supernova trio crews, first kiss, they're so sheepish, fluff, swearing.

Notes: I am learning how to draw on my phone because I want to do some digital art. Always starting with a kiss, I just wanted to know more about why they were kissing like that. Calls back to this comic I did a while ago. 3rd person POV.

“Alright, which one of your crewmates has the weirdest mouth?” Shachi’s nasally crackle shot through the air, his drunken stupor propelling those around to laugh with him, “I'm outta Berry, so I gotta bet somethin’.” Penguin clapped a hand over Shachi's shoulder, leaning his forehead against his upper arm and hissing out a snort of laughter into it.

Killer was contemplative, leaning back in his seat and thinking on it. Going through a list of names of his crewmen, he finally settled on, “Heat. I think Heat has the weirdest mouth. Guy breathes fire, and he's got the ridges from the scar marks. Robin?”

“I'd say Brook, just because he has no flesh, nor tongue, but can still taste and consume food,” she hums in deep thought, meandering through her cards and sorting them from weakest to strongest suit. Shachi stifled his laughter, using his hands in a rough flurry to call to his crewmate from across the bay.

“Ours is Tobiuo. You gotta see her tongue and teeth, man,” Shachi admitted to the table, all ignoring the shouts and petulant competitions going on between Law, Luffy and Kid. Tobiuo released several soft huffs of laughter, soundlessly expressing her glee while nodding in confirmation with her red-headed crewmate. Killer tilted his head, narrowing his eyes beneath the mask to get a better glimpse of the inside of the fishwoman's mouth.

Arching her brows at his inquisition, she slunk back in her seat, lazily hooking her right thigh over her left knee and slinging her arm around the back of Penguin’s chair. Eyeing the mask-wearing man cautiously, she drew her tankard up to her lips and took a large sip of the amber liquid within.

“Why all the curiosity about mouths and Berry, Shachi?” Robin asked, regaining the tables attention and peeling their eyes away from Tobiuo's lips.

“I'm gonna bet Tobiuo’s lips for my wager. You up for it, Iyo?” he slurred his speech, lulling his head to the side and looking over his pointed sunglasses at her, “Gonna kiss the winner?” Tobiuo moved her hands in a rushed flurry, her lips pulling back into a tight-lipped snarl.

“Am I meant to be offended, or-…?”

“-No, no! Of course not,” Shachi interrupted the gestures, “Look, we all know what your lips feel like. You're an excellent kisser. I'd say they're worth…” he trailed off, creating an opening for another voice to air their thoughts.

“...Three Million Berry.”

Tobiuo choked on her drink, snapping her head over to the quieter voice at the end of the table.

Hiding behind a hand of cards, the slouched and bashful shoulders of the Kid-Pirate Fire-Breather softly shot his sunken eyes over the margin of the stack of cards. Tobiuo tilted her head to the side, fluttering her webbed hands hastily before tapping Penguin's arm with the heel of her palm.

“She's wondering why so much,” Penguin raised his arms defeatedly before translating properly, “Her exact phrase: ‘for that price, you could hire an escort to mess around with. Why her’?” Tobiuo nodded, waiting for his reply. Killer sat back in his seat, smugly looking between Heat and the Heart Pirates’ chief of security.

Killer had been the target to Heat’s confessions regarding his attraction to the fishwoman, often the source of many a migraine. Finally having an opening for conversation, he felt a weight leave him as Heat continued.

“I-... I, uh-…” Heat fumbled, his fluster rising in his cheeks and blooming the warmth in his chest. Killer’s migraine returned, prompting him to take action and rearrange his cards.

“That settles it, then,” Shachi confessed, looking between his pile of Berry, Nami, Robin, Killer, Penguin, Tobiuo, Wire, and Heat, “Opening bid, three million Berry. Anyone gonna call?” Tobiuo moved her hands and furrowed her brows, her two crewmates ignoring her protests and chastising words.

Before Heat had the ability to test his hand against Shachi's, to win the opportunity of a kiss from the Fishwoman, the blonde Kid-Pirate spoke up.

“I'll call you on your bullshit, Shachi,” Killer spoke up with his warm tone full of playfulness and jest.

“Jokes on you, blondie,” Shachi’s nasally crackle cut through the air, “I got 3 pretty ladies in my hand. Got something better than a three of a kind?” Shachi’s cocky grin looked greedily down at the pile of Berry on the table and back up to Killer.

“Actually I do,” his grin widened beneath his mask, his smile heard in his soothing baritone, “I've got a straight flush.”

“No,” Shachi whined, chucking his cards on the table in defeat, “And it was all going so well! I actually had a good hand this time!” Rather than consoling her crewmates of his loss, Tobiuo narrowed her milky-gaze at the mask-wearing man and tilted her chin up to assess him.

“Bets a bet. Pay up, Buttercup,” Killer rose to his feet, prompting Tobiuo to do the same. In two broad strides, she stood in front of him and folder her arms into one another. Killer snuck a look at his crewmate, Heat, who placed his cards face up on the lengthy table in front of him. A royal flush, a hand that would've landed him in Killer’s place if he spoke up.

“Don't be shy,” Killer uttered, elevating his right hand up and returning his attention to the seven foot Fishwoman. “Let me see,” he extended up his fingers towards her chin. Tobiuo narrowed her eyes, at him and released a puff of air from her lips before pouting them.

“Don't get all huffy with me, Missy,” he giggled, his shrill laugh causing her to become more at ease. Unlacing her arms, she allowed him to place his thumb and index finger on her chin and draw himself into her space. Offering a small hum of approval, he gently coaxed her face towards him.

Killer took a moment to appreciate being dwarfed by her great height, sparing another glance at his fire-breathing crewmates before directing her closer to his mask.

“Now say ‘ah’ for me, Tobiuo,” Killer moved his thumb up and gingerly toyed with Tobiuo’s bottom lip. Rolling her eyes, she parted her lips and revealed a sharp set of teeth. Each tooth was whittled naturally down into a sharp peak, her stalactite-shaped canines protruding from her upper and lower lips.

“Ohh… Pretty,” Killer hummed in thought, examining how interesting her uniqueness was in comparison to human anatomy while drawing his thumb away from her lip and down to her chin once more, “Now the tongue?” Tobiuo’s smirk rose up on the left hand side of her darker lips, lulling her tongue over and revealing the organ to him.

“Bloody hell-!” Killer exclaimed, pulling his hand away in shock at the length of the morsel. Divots, ridges, and pliant barbs were elevated over her palate. The tip of her tongue tapered off in a pointed end, extending far further than regular capacity.

Heat sat quietly by, his eyes widening and heart beating rapidly against the shell of his ribcage. Just when he thought he couldn't get more enamored with Trafalgar Law’s barbaric fighter, he swoons at the new light being shone on her otherworldly anatomy.

“Gonna show me what a three million Berry kiss is?” Killer goaded, prompting Tobiuo to retract her tongue back into her mouth and lean in closer to Killer. Reaching her webbed hand up to his mask, he shook his head and recoiled against her touch.

“Not on your life, Missy,” he shook his head and stepped fully away from her, “I don't take this off for just anyone. Not even for such a pretty reward as your lips, honey.” Tobiuo tilted her head to the side, furrowing her brows while fluttering her hands. Killer watched the motions, not truly understanding and looking over to Shachi or Penguin for translation.

“She's asking where you want her to kiss you, in not very appropriate language, I might add,” Penguin chuckled, prompting Shachi to wheeze. Killer shot his attention past the two Heart-Pirates towards the fire-breathing commander and curled his finger twice towards him.

“We were talking about Heat earlier,” Killer informed the gathering of allied troops at the poker table, “Can’t kiss me, but you can kiss one of the other commanders on my behalf.” The corset-wearing commander stepped closer to both Killer and Tobiuo, his eyes avoiding the milky-gaze of the security officer as she assessed his form.

She hadn't really thought much about the blue-haired Kid-Pirate, not truly experiencing a closeness like this with him to truly admire his features. Heat trailed his eyes up to her chin, hovering briefly on her lips before meeting her gaze with his own.

Fluttering her hands at him, Shachi, Penguin and, surprisingly, Wire, all released a cackle at her flurry. Heat shook his head, his lips parting as he tilted his chin towards the gathering without departing his eyes from hers.

“What are you-?” Heat asked his hairless eyebrows knitting together curiously, “Are you making fun of me?” Tobiuo slunk away, smiling with her lips tightly shut and a deep, purple blush rising to flood her cheeks and webbed ears. Heat chuckled, stepping forward more boldly now.

“Oh, I think you are making fun of me, Tobiuo,” Heat uttered in a deep rumble, causing her to take a step back and buckle her knees on the back of the bar island to the side of the poker table, “And what are you saying, hm? What's got them all giggly?” Weaving his legs within hers, he rose his right hand to cup her neck and tilted her head back. Hovering his lips over hers, he whispered gently over her sensitive skin.

Tobiuo’s brows rose, her gaze darting down to his lips and back up to his eyes in shock. Heat's thumb gently caressed the dips and elevations of scales against her skin, prompting Tobiuo’s breath to hitch and shudder. Heat made to tease the security officer a little more, but his over-eagerness to brush his lips with hers stilled that thought in a heartbeat.

Surging forward on his toes, he dwarfed the Fishwoman by looming his frame over hers, immediately meeting his lips with hers in a soft kiss. Closing his eyes, the tattooed Fire-Breather hummed into her lips in a soft moan, enjoying the warmth of her lips on his. Tobiuo's eyes remained open, examining the commander as he pressed his lips on hers with more intent and meaning.

Tobiuo was not unaccustomed to kissing for fun, many of her crew often got a peck on the forehead, a raspberry blown in their necks from behind, or a platonic oscillation if she was feeling exceptionally generous. But this? This was something entirely different.

Heat's lips ignited something in her that she hadn't felt before. Heart fluttering in her chest, she finally closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss. Webbed hands finding his hips, she drew him further into her lap and tilted her chin up to brush with his. Changing the angle, she parted her lips and prompted him to do the same. Just as her thumbs brushed against his dermal tri-hip piercings, Heat’s fingertips raked and carded through her hair to add depth to the kiss.

As his tongue finally met with hers, a small whimper caught itself in his throat at the ridges and flexible barbs coarsely grinding against his. Drunk on the feeling, his boldness halts as his bottom lip gets nicked on her sharp teeth.

“Ow-! Ouch-!” Heat hisses, tugging his body away from her and drawing his hand up to his bleeding lip. Tobiuo’s eyes widened in horror, her hand raised in a c-shaped cup and waving it in front of her lips. Her lip quivered, sharp lips chattering as she truly depicted her apologies for the bite.

“She's sorry, she's sorry,” Penguin translated for her, watching the flurry manically fluttering from her hands with her lips moving soundlessly, “‘It was a mistake. I'm so sorry, pretty boy. So much for a three million Berry kiss’.” Heat’s eyes widened, shaking his head and releasing his lip from his fingers. The softest trickle of red dribbled down his chin, doing nothing to calm Tobiuo’s hasty apologies from flying from her hands.

“...Pretty boy?” Heat blushed, his cheeks tinting with the softest shade of pink. Tobiuo stilled her hands, the same purple hue dusting her scaled features. “Is… Is that what you called me? ‘Pretty boy’?” Tobiuo sucked her lips into her mouth to halt her rising smile, prompting Heat to step towards her once more.

“I-... I think you're really pretty too, love,” he confessed in a barely audible whisper.

Killer hummed, slouching in his seat and offering his clenched fist towards Wire. The taller man clenched his own fist and tapped it against the balled fist of the first mate. The blonde was feeling rather pleased with himself, finally having Heat’s longing and infatuation momentarily satiated by a soft kiss from the security officer of his dreams.

Tobiuo felt her heart soar at his confession. Although, compared to the women present on the three vessels, she didn't feel she was all that much to look at. When her eyes met with Heat’s once more, she felt like the most beautiful creature that had ever lived. Offering him a little more of a grin, Heat released a whimsy sigh.

“Perfection.”