#i don't have the time or patience anymore. i just don't. every time i peek at it the total chapter count doubles

[burningcheese-merchant]

So there's this Shadowvanilla fic on Ao3 Im fairly certain you know about, and in It SM and PV link up to eachother's minds/feelings/souls via their souljams touching, and its pretty sweet since since they're on their chests, the two basically have to hug to connect.

Which made me think, what about the other beasts and ancients? BS and GC would be by far the weirdest imo bc she would have to touch her forehead to his chest??? Which depending on the size difference It could still just be a hug.

SS and WL would touch their weapons (sword and staff), which can comes off as distant or cold, despite the fact they're about to peer into eachother's very being.

ES and MF suffer because their's are on their forehead and their ancient's are on their weapons😭😭 imagine HB shield to EG's forehead, that'd be awkward af

I'm not actually sure what you're referring to 😅 is it Jambound? I think something like that happens in it? I don't really remember, I read the first 3 chapters a while ago and that's it haha (I really don't have the time to read fanfics, especially not ones as long as that one (it's like 15 chapters long now and still going with no end in sight, isn't it??? Goodness)). I never really did much of anything on AO3 tbh, I honestly just go there to write and post my own dumb garbage and then vanish into the aether again

Regardless. I always vibed with the concept of the Ancients and Beasts connecting/strengthening their existing connection through their Soul Jams. But the way I've tried to get around the fact that most of their placements are... cumbersome and don't really lend themselves to that (White Lily's staff and Silent Salt's sword, for example) is, I think of it as... Through the sharing of the Soul Jams, they're all already bound to one another, yeah? So do they NEED to have them be a component in the physical aspect of this? Do White Lily and Silent Salt NEED to have their staff and sword clink together to express that intimacy? Or can they simply embrace each other nice and tight, staff and sword set aside nearby, and their souls can resonate just with that action? The Soul Jam not physically being in their hands doesn't really mean it's left their ownership and they've completely lost access to its power, I don't think; we saw that with how the Light of Abundance refused to answer to Smoked Cheese when he took it, and how Golden Cheese could keep fighting Burning Spice for a while even without it (albeit weaker). So idk if they need the Soul Jams to touch so they can feel closer to each other. I think they've all been naturally imbued with that power at least to some degree and thus don't really 100% need the physical Soul Jams to facilitate that closeness. If I'm already super glued to somebody then not putting my hands on their belt buckle or whatever isn't going to make us any less stuck together ykwim

With that said I like to imagine BS's being particularly sensitive since it's embedded in his chest. GC can press her hand down on it, or lay her head against it, and feel his heart beating through it, if only faintly. Maybe it feels warm to the touch, and grows warmer and shines brighter the faster his heart races. Maybe his breath catches in his throat when she touches it because it feels different there than it does when she touches any other part of his body. Maybe it acts as a cute little nightlight when they're curled up together in bed. Maybe it burns hot like a coal and glows like the fire in a hearth when they're deep in the throes of passion. Maybe, as a charming little gesture, she actually will touch her forehead to his chest so they can listen to that soft little clink that sounds the little kiss Abundance and Destruction shares. Maybe a certain something stirs within them both when she does it, maybe not. But it's cute. They're so in love that even their Soul Jams want to make out. Lol

Also any excuse to put her face in those big strong man titties is 👌👌👌 in her opinion

[softsunnyy]

🚨; period sex, he starts touching you while you sleep ??, idk, graphic and disgusting descriptions. If you don't like this topic, please don't read it.

divider by @cafekitsune

i feel like Quinn can't control himself, not anymore. He knows the moment is approaching. He notices it in the way your mood worsens with each passing day, and the way your body grows more and more sensitive. He still remembers how you whined a couple of days ago about how much your tits hurt. He knows the day is coming, and he's more than ready to receive his reward for being so patient.

he notices it before you do, because you're still asleep. You're moving so much that it's impossible for him not to notice the small red stain that has pierced your underwear, staining those pajama pants you love so much. Something inside him ignites at the sight, and then he can't help the way his body moves carefully.

first, he touches you over your clothes, making a bigger mess, but feeling your body heat rise. Unconsciously, your body moves, seeking friction, making your ass rub against his bulge.

oh, honey, you're not making it any easier for him.

he slips his hand under your clothes and gently touches your pussy, trying not to wake you up, and taking advantage of the moment when you move a little, giving him a little more space. As if you wanted this. As if you were silently asking for it.

his fingers run through your folds, and a sigh escapes your lips. He has to hold back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. However, it's when he pulls his hand out that he gives in, seeing the mess you'd made of him even though he'd barely touched you.

his cock throbs, aches, and longs to bury himself in you, listening to the obscene sound of bodies joining together, and your red walls receiving every inch as if he belonged between your legs.

it's when you lie on your back that he decides to take a risk, standing up and settling between your legs, which he gently parted. He then removed your pants and panties, trying not to wake you up, although the air hitting your bare skin made your legs try to close. He had to intervene, opening them once more.

and there it is, the source of his desires, the reason your tits look puffier and more sensitive. The reason your body seems to smell different. The reason you look even more hot than the usual.

he releases his cock quickly, but doesn't insert it right away. He wants to enjoy you, wants to rub his tip between your folds, watching you stain him red, sharing your warmth and wetting his cock so it's even easier for him to get in.

you moan in that soft voice that drives him wild, and your nipples peek out from under that tank top you wear to bed. Today more than ever, he's grateful that you don't wear a bra when you're at home.

it's when he inserts the tip into your sensitive hole that you begin to open your eyes, confused, but feeling how wet you are, and the way your pussy throbs desperately, longing to be touched by your boyfriend, who now looks at you attentively, smiling as he slowly inserts his entire length inside you, drawing a loud moan from you that you couldn't stop.

“Quinn,” you whimpered, surprised, and he didn't give you much time to adjust to his size. He usually does, but now he doesn't have the patience, so he just started moving, watching as every time his cock came out, it came out red, like your walls, which gladly received him, clenched around him as if they didn't want him to come out.

he doesn't care about anything anymore. He needs to keep moving, to see your blood become part of him, as if you're marking him, as if you're joining him in a more intimate and primal way, as if you're giving him something of yourself that's incomparable.

his desire is carnal, it's pure, and he needs to cum inside you, fill you with his cum, and watch how both of you become one, making a mess of your fluids, leaving an unforgettable scene that he'll seek to repeat for every moment of your period. And you can only surrender, feeling the pleasure of his cock breaking you, using you, satisfying himself with your body, with your blood. The sound stuns you, the smell makes you dizzy, but your eyes roll back, lost in the pleasure of feeling his long cock touching the parts that drive you crazy.

maybe it surprised you, maybe you still don't fully understand what's happening, but you wouldn't change a thing. Not when you can have Quinn this crazy about you, wanting to consume you and merge with you in the wildest and most real way possible.

and the idea used to make you nervous before, but if Quinn decides to lick your pussy and devour you right now, you won't deny him. You can't. Not when you know how good it will make you feel, because he knows how to do it.

don't worry. He'll take care of you.

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 1

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 1: The Good News Gabriel Brings

One minute, you were reading your very spicy romance book on your couch. The next, you were sitting in some diner off the highway, book still in hand. You looked around, wondering if anyone noticed you appear out of thin air. Not a single person was looking towards you. Okay, this must be a dream, I dozed off while reading, you thought. If I'm right, I won't be able to read words. You opened up to a random part in the book, and sure enough, you could read every single smutty word on that page. Fuck. What just happened?

"More coffee, sweetie?" The waitress pulled you from your downward spiral. You accepted, though you'd rather be drinking something a little stronger. You took a sip, letting the warmth fill you up. You looked down - you were no longer wearing your oversized sleep shirt. Instead, you were wearing skinny jeans, brown boots, and a gray tank top with a blue flannel layered on top. Very autumn lumberjack, you thought. It was much more appropriate than your sleep shirt though, given the dreary weather outside. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, surprised to find a signal. You were more surprised that you had your phone at all, and even more perplexed when you saw your purse sitting on the booth next to you. You peeked inside - thank god, your inhaler. You're gonna need that because the panic will surely set in soon. You scroll through your phone and find your messages are all gone. There's no logs of calls or contacts. Everything has been wiped. Great. You pull up the news to see if you can get your bearings a little. You weren't quite sure what else to do - after all, you've never teleported before.

You were too focused on your phone to notice a 1967 Chevy Impala pull up to the diner. Nor did you notice the two gigantic men walk through the front door as the bell jingled. But one of these men clocked you almost immediately. His face turned pale and he stopped in his tracks. "Holy shit," he breathed. The taller one looked at him like he was nuts, but before he could say anything else, the shorter (but still really tall) one found himself walking towards you. "Dude, what the hell?" His buddy was following him to your booth.

"Hey. Hi. Um, can I sit here?" Real smooth, dipshit, he thought to himself. You looked up at the man speaking to you, not really registering what he said. This man was a spitting image of Jensen Ackles. In fact, they could be twins. However the man standing in front of you had his flannel sleeves rolled up enough for you to see a tattoo sleeve and a myriad of scars peppering his skin. The man who appeared behind this man looked exactly like Jared Padalecki. "Am I being punked?" you asked. The two men look at each other and sit down in your booth, facing you. They look intrigued, waiting for you to keep talking.

"I wouldn't really say 'punked,' but I really had some fun with this one." A dude appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to you, looking like Richard Speight, Jr. Okay, what the actual fuck.

"Gabriel? What the fuck are you doing here?" the guy who looked like Jared asked. Okay, we got Sam, Dean, Gabriel...what's next? Cas? You look out the window to see the Impala and your stomach flips.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time for you bozos, so pay attention and don't interrupt. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean, this is Y/N. Yes, like the show Supernatural, I know, whoop-de-do, let's get to the juicy parts, alright?" Gabriel looks almost irritated with his little speech.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam's patience was wearing thin already.

"What did I say about interrupting? You're a bad listener. As I was saying, Y/N comes from another universe. Dean, I'm sure you're quite familiar. Y/N, you get the gist of it, but it's not exactly like the CW show. This is more real-life, nitty gritty, not at all rated PG-13. There's a lot of shit from the show that didn't happen in this universe. The writing really went to shit after Kripke left, but that's just my opinion. I digress. Y/N and Dean are soulmates, don't ask me how they ended up in different universes, I'm just here to fix it. So boom, problem solved, have fun figuring all this shit out." Gabriel acted bored but seemed to be amused by this situation.

Your head was spinning. Supernatural. Real life. Alternate universe. Soulmates? You stared down your coffee cup as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. It was hard when the entire time, you could feel Dean staring at you. He hasn't taken his eyes off you since he walked into the diner. You thought they were attractive on the show, but in real like they're so gorgeous, it's intimidating.

"Why would you do Dean a favor like that? What do you get out of it?" Sam asked. "Nothing from you ever comes out of the kindness of your heart."

"Listen bud, I just know what's gotta happen and I do it. Any other questions?"

"Hold on! You said parts of the TV show didn't happen in this universe. Which parts?" You had to know - Rowena, Crowley, Chuck, Leviathan - was all of this real now?

"Just the dumb parts. All of season 7 basically. That weird attachment Dean had with the Darkness even though she was a kid for a while, creepy if you ask me. The whole Darkness thing never happened, don't know if it will in the future though. The Men of Letters are alive and thriving, Sam and Dean actually work for them as hunters. I don't know kid I'm sure you'll figure it all out." His answer placated you for now. It was still too much for your brain to process. You're sure you'll have lots of questions come up as the day progresses. You turn to thank him, but he's already gone. That leaves you alone in a booth with Sam and Dean Winchester.

Chapter 2

[sammysussy]

Lemonboy

“I will return soon, Lilia-sama! Now, where would the council keep the lemonade?” 

Sebek made haste around the ballroom to the cafeteria, traversing through the crowd with the large glass jug safe in his arms. Tonight was the night where the ‘Prom King’ would be announced and he made sure to let everyone know to vote for Malleus. His stomach fluttered with pride as he recalled counting each vote, confident that no one else would come even close to the young lord. 

Sebek pushed the door and went straight to the kitchen, only to see someone was already there, sitting under the sink with unruly black hair and grey tears staining warm beige skin. “Wha—hey, you! What are you doing here?” 

The person wiped his eyes and slowly blinked, eventually revealing a pair of hazelnut eyes. “Oh, Zigvolt-kun,” he mumbled before pointing at the jug. “Did you get that from the ballroom?” 

Sebek's eyes widened for a moment and scolded himself for not realising sooner that the person before him was Basil. Has his observation skills deteriorated in such a short amount of time? Something else that needed work, he noted to himself. He cleared his throat as he collected his thoughts. “Lilia-sama had instructed me to have the jug full for the announcement. I must return before then.”

As he observed the other, Sebek could see he had failed to immediately tell Basil's identity. For one and a very significant one, his hair colour. Second was the ruined makeup that had obscured his true facial features. He hadn't realised just how much a person's appearance could drastically change from simply applying some pigment. 

“Announcement? Oh, the ‘Prom King’. Right, right...” Basil nodded to himself, his eyes still hazy as if his mind was everywhere but the present and Sebek could feel his patience tick away every second. He placed the jug on the counter slightly further away from himself in case he were to accidentally damage it and turned to Basil. 

“Focus! This is a very urgent matter that Lilia-sama had entrusted me with. Now, if you don't happen to know where the rest of the lemonade is stored, I suggest you stay out of my way so as to not disturb me anymore.”

He couldn't help but wonder, however, what could have caused such a state from a man that was usually very lively. Judging from appearance alone (strands going in all directions, wrinkled collar, remnants of ruined mascara), it couldn't have been anything pleasant. A strange feeling sizzled deep within his guts where his hands couldn't reach and dispose of it. 

After a few seconds swam by, Basil looked around and pointed at the large metal door in the back. “It's most likely in there, but I don't know if there is still any left.” 

Sebek spared him a glance before opening the door and searched through the shelves and found a box full of lemonade. How peculiar to keep the liquid in such a container. When he left the chiller with the juice box, Basil was leaning against the counter with his head hung low, dark strands hiding his face. 

Speaking of dark strands, “Hair dye is against school protocol. You as a senior are to set a good example for the rest of the school. I know you have a…penchant for disregarding certain rules but just because you're close to graduating does not—”

“It's a wig.”

“—exempt you from it. You are a year above me and I expected bet—huh?” 

Basil reached for the top of his head and pulled the black hair, revealing bright soft lime hair peeking out beneath the wig cap. “It's a wig.”

As Sebek inspected it closer, the hair did look shinier than what natural hair usually looked like. Should he look into getting glasses? “... It seems that I've spoken wrongly about you. Why are you wearing that anyway? Nowhere was it stated to wear one.” 

A bitter chuckle escaped from Basil as he ran his hand through his hair. “It's silly, really. Got dumped on and thought black hair and some mascara would help.” 

“I don't follow, but your way of thinking is so convoluted I myself would get lost trying to.” And ‘dumped on’? That implied the existence of a partner. Well, former partner now; one that Sebek didn't know about prior. For some reason, the thought brought both discomfort and comfort to him. 

Sebek poured the juice quickly into the jug, the ticks ringing in his head, but ended up spilling a small amount on the table. “Agh! Cloth, I need—” 

Before he could look around, Basil had already pushed Sebek and his jug to the door. “It's fine, I'll handle it. You can go back to the ball now. I think I can hear them announcing it.” 

Faint screams of excitement echoed from the halls all the way to the cafeteria. The ticks became alarms and he was about to sprint before giving the older a stern look. “Do not act reckless while I'm gone.”

Basil crossed his arms and tilted his head, his humoured tone betraying his incredulous expression. “That's implying you'll be back.”

“Yes? What else would I be saying other than that?” Sebek's eyebrows furrowed deeper, puzzled by how the other's mind worked, how the gears turned, how the clock inside ticks. Perhaps he needed to be clearer than that. “I will return after the announcement.”

Basil didn't say anything else, for his wide eyes told him enough. Though he wasn't sure why Basil's cheeks turned into a shade deeper as he gave a shy nod. Sebek returned the gesture and walked as fast as he could to the announcement without letting the lemonade all over the floor. 

Shockingly (or unshockingly for many), Malleus didn't win and Sebek spent the whole night ranting about how ‘there must've been a mistake’ or how ‘the students had failed to see the magnificence of the young lord’ with his legs pacing around the kitchen. At least one person was smiling because of him. 

[manateeteaparty]

dreams

For the past week I've been having weird, weird dreams. I have a lot of weird dreams but I've never had so many in a row? And they're all connected in some way. Like they may all start out differently, but eventually it evolves into me suddenly standing on a misty hill with stones and boulders overlooking an ancient forest, dressed in medieval female armour (breastplate, pauldrons, gorget, etc). and carrying a huge axe. No one else is around for miles except for me, and the only sound I can hear is the wind blowing through the grass and whistling through the rocks. But I have this sense that I'm being hunted by something. Like a predator I can't see. It senses me from far away, too far away for me to even see it, but somehow it knows I'm out in this vast space, and it's stalking me. Over the course of every night, with every dream I've had, this feeling has become stronger and stronger and I'm no longer standing in the field of boulders, but in a forest. I can tell that whatever is hunting me is close- I can hear it. It growls, and I stand with my axe in hand ready to attack. But then a growl comes from a completely new direction, and I spin around surprised. Is there more than one monster? The growls start coming from every direction and I realize it's toying with me. Mocking me. It's trying to get me flustered, catch me off guard. I feel disgusted. "Come out and face me, or remain in the shadows like a coward". I continue walking on through the forest. Throughout the rest of my "journey" (I guess I'll call it that)? I continue to hear growls. I see shapes dart from behind trees. I always steady myself and prepare to fight, but nothing ever happens. Nothing appears. My patience grows thin. I don't tolerate these games. As the sun peeks through the trees casting shadows on the forest floor, I see a new shadow being cast in front of me: a lion, large and with a wild mane, two tails slowly twisting around. I don't bother to look behind me and see what it looks like beyond the shadow- I don't think of this creature as a predator anymore, but an annoyance. This journey would be so beaitiful if I wasn't constantly being stalked and having my peace interrupted. And for what? Simply because it can? Because it likes to feel powerful, to feel better than others? It enjoys playing mind games? This creature doesn't represent power or strength to me- it is pathetic. Pitiful. Arrogant. Pure narcissism. I walk on, and the shadow fades away. In my dream last night, it was night- dark. There was a lightning storm happening, lots of rain, very dramatic. I had been running through the forest trying to find a good shelter from the storm and felt a huge sense of relief when I see this cave, and let out a little "phew"! I'm about to go in when loud growling starts, a crack of thunder and bolt of lightning strike and I see a giant pair of teeth illuminated in the flash. I think to myself, "I should have seen this coming. I can't get any peace, any rest. This creature is the epitome of schadenfreude- watching me suffer gives it pleasure." Frustration, anger and an overwhelming sense of reaching my breaking point bubble up inside of me and I raise my axe while gritting my teeth to the point my mouth starts bleeding and the rain streams it down my chin. I scream "Enough, motherfucker! Come out and face me, you coward!" And then I woke up.

So my question is: what the fuck

What the hell does this all mean

I've always been very intuitive and I get a lot of messages in my dreams, and sometimes it's very clear that message is something simple like 'Yeah, I'm craving eating a leg of meat like a fucking caveman' or 'I'm really burned out from taking care of dying people at work, I need to take some time to care for myself before I have a breakdown' or 'girl you horny' but I don't get this one. I don't like riddles, and kind of like how I'm feeling in the dream, it's annoying and I'm like JUST FUCKING TELL ME but I know the subconscious doesn't work that way.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Made of Steele - Chapter 23

*Warning: Adult Content*

"Happy 21st birthday, Jamie," my friends scream and throw their glasses filled with champagne into the air.

The DJ had started playing music and just like that, my friends and family started to come up to me and congratulate me, whilst they all asked how my trip had been to Europe.

As much as I wanted to avoid a birthday in the States this year, I'm somewhat thankful I won't be spending another birthday alone, after travelling for the past three years.

Three years ago... I felt lost.

I don't know if it was Kit and him leaving or my loss of purpose in the world but I just couldn't stay in one place anymore, I wanted to leave and experience something else other than what I felt at that time.

It's been three years and I've been to twelve countries in Europe and every single time I hopped from one place to another, I couldn't help but think of home and what I was leaving behind.

Just as my friends and some relatives congratulated me, I made a quiet exit through the sea of people that were currently inside the photo studio that my party was currently being thrown in, with my paintings on the walls.

I felt like I was suffocating, to see my work on the walls should make me happy,but if anything, I felt more alone than usual.

I made it outside the studio and into a staircase and once the doors closed behind me, I felt like I could breathe again.

I went into my back pocket and grabbed my cigarettes and when I was sure nobody followed me out there, I lit one up and then sat down on the steps of the stairs.

Once I inhaled the toxic fumes, a sense of calm washed over me and only then did I feel completely at peace.

This disgusting smell and the taste on my tongue... I didn't know what it was about or why I needed to do it just to get through the day but since leaving, I can't go a day without smoking one of these things.

The past three years have felt like a blur and within these three years, I've stuck to what makes me feel human and that would be art.

I travelled, I painted and sometimes, I would fuck strangers on these art pieces, that would probably go for thousands if I sold them.

There was something satisfying about ruining something I spent a lot of time and patience on, so satisfying that it had become somewhat of a need, for when I'm low.

Almost done with my smoke, someone opens the doors to the stairwell and makes me almost jump out of my skin, a part of me hoped that it wasn't my dad.

"There you are," my best friend, Hannah said, closing the door behind her.

Her face crinkles in disgust once she smells the smoke and notices what I was doing, as I currently put out the rest of my cigarette.

"Ugh," she gagged. "Jamie, it stinks,"

"It's not that bad," I rolled my eyes, getting up from the steps.

"Tell that to your dad," she huffed, making me snap my eyes towards hers.

"He's here?"

Hannah nodded her head, making me frown and move forward towards the door, to peek through the glass and look inside the studio.

I eventually spot him, he was alone and looking around the room.

No doubt, looking for me.

What was he doing here?

"He's just wanting to wish you a Happy Birthday," Hannah said, putting her hand on my back. "He misses you, you know... we all do."

I turned and looked at Hannah and saw that she had tears in her eyes and despite how badly I wanted to get away from this place, I always felt like shit when Hannah would call, text or cry and tell me how much she missed me.

"I missed you too."

I wrapped my arm around her and brought her into my chest as my free hand rested on the back of her long hair.

Hanna chuckled and hugged me back, then moments later they moved away from me, her nose crinkled with a smile on her lips, tears still in her eyes.

"Sorry, the smell is just too much," she said seriously, making me laugh and then shrug.

Well, there's no avoiding it, if I left now, he'd only track me down another way until he makes me see him.

"I'll catch up with you later," I lean forward and kiss her cheek, making her smile. "I'm going to see what he wants."

"No fighting, he is just here to see you," she says, as I sigh but nod my head anyway.

Hannah and I went back into the room and as I got further into the room, I saw just how much my dad didn't change, if anything, despite him almost being forty, he looked the same as he did when I left.

Only more annoying.

"Hey," I said, coming up to him, making him turn and look at me.

"Jamie," he smiled, almost relieved to see me standing in front of him and I don't know why but that made me nervous. "You look..." he looked me over, trying to find the words to my obvious attire. "Good," he eventually said. "Healthy."

"Thanks," I rolled my eyes, and awkwardly stood there, not knowing what to say. "Where's Allie, and Evan?" I ask, looking around and not seeing them anywhere.

"Around, somewhere," he frowns, looking around before his eyes focus back on me. "Happy birthday," he held out the envelope to me, with a small smile. "Now, I'm still just as bad as I always was with buying gifts for you, and since you're now twenty-one, I wanted this to be special."

I furrowed my brows at him then looked down at the envelope in my hands, taking a small moment to myself before I opened it up and took out what was inside.

Inside was a letter and at the top was my name and the name of a company I had never heard of, called 'Made of Steele'.

It had a nice ring to it but this meant nothing to me.

"What's this?" I ask him, holding up the piece of paper.

"It's yours," he said, coming to stand next to me to look at the paper in my hands. "I know how passionate you are about art and how talented you are," he pointed to an address on the paper. "Your mom and I found a great place, nothing flash, a decent part of town, with it's own studio and apartment, also a large room for a potential gallery if you wish."

I couldn't do anything but stare at the paper in my hands and go over just what he was talking about, every single word that was on the paper.

It's true, this... whatever this was, was completely one hundred percent mine and given to me by not only my dad but also my mom from her signature.

I knew what this was... this was their subtle way of trying to make me stick around and stay in the states so they could see me more.

Even so, it... it made me happy to know that after three years of ups and downs with my parents, they still tried and never gave up.

I was embarrassed by how I acted in the past but most of all, I felt pathetic.

"Thanks..." I rubbed my neck as my dad genuinely smiled at me. "It's very thoughtful."

We stood there for a few more moments and in those moments I enjoyed the silence, and just knowing he was there and that things were looking up.

I felt tired, more so than usual and as much as I wanted to keep moving and be anyone other than Jamie Steele but n the end, there was no denying who I was or what I had become.

This place... this opportunity... I'm thinking it might be good for me and that it's time I do something with myself.

I was ready to move on to the next chapter in my life and rebuild my future at home and relationships with family and friends.

With the people who cared about me most, maybe then... the feeling of loneliness will finally disappear, along with the past and all those painful memories.... of him.

[aikasjournal]

Journal #8 - 8.16.23

I am going crazy. Crazy with worry and no one with the patience of a saint to listen to me. I cannot stop obsessing over my daughter possibly having ASD. I'm so scared. I keep googling these fucking symptoms, I keep going down the rabbit hole of AskReddit forums of parents who had the same worries as me. Whenever I read a negative outcome, the more I get this sinking feeling in my stomach that something is wrong with Noa.

Let me be honest and recount the stuff that's been bothering me. She has recently turned one year old and:

she's still not babbling properly. no mamamama, no dadadaadada. no canonical babbling. even the sporadic "ma" and "da" and "ba" were gone. she doesn't make any of those sounds anymore. she used to babble a bit back in June.

she has some ticks, repetitive movements with her hands, not sure if these are "stims"

she doesn't understand "give" nor does she bring any of her toys when I ask her to or just for the sake of trying to show it to me. she doesn't have much of "joint attention."

she doesn't mimic any of the words/sounds I tell/read to her. no meow, no woof, no mama, no dada. not even attempts of trying to copy these sounds

she can't keep still. she is mostly just standing, walking, falling all day every day.

she doesn't point or do any gestures I ask her. she has recently learned "wave" but I don't think she understands what it is. she copies our gestures sometimes. clap and high five are both hit and miss.

she is more interested in mundane things as toys like diaper cream, remote control, laptops, cellphones, hangers, paper wrappers

she is not very interested in books, or being read to

she does not seem to understand when I try to teach her sign language. when she wants something she consistently just screams/cries instead of pointing or possibly trying to sign with us

she doesn't do pretend play just yet

What about positives?

she answers to her name about 60 percent of the time

she turns and looks for noise/sounds

she plays peek a boo but mostly her smiling trying to look for us

she does look for us when we hide

she has good eye contact

she copies some of the gestures we show her, although not consistently

she smiles and laughs with us

she is curious about new people

she can sometimes sleep through the night

she is working on her walk

she is very interested in our dog Elmo

she can sometimes correctly "go to" the things I ask her like Doggy the Dog, or Dillon the Duck but no pointing

she eats just okay

she reaches out to us when she wants to be picked up

she cries when we leave the room

she smiles when we re-appear or come back home from outside

she engages with us when we play with her

she likes to snuggle and seems affectionate most days

I don't know why I fear ASD so much. It's hard for me to be extremely honest about it but it seems like

[peachsayshi]

Hey! Just wanted to say your nanami beach sneak peek was so good and I was wondering if you were planning to post the full thing anytime? If so I’d love to read it, you write him so well☺️

Hi, nonnie! 🧡🧡 I'm so happy you liked the little sneak peak from the ex husband nanami series ^.^ feedback like this means the world to me & I really want to thank you so much for taking the time to read it!

Regarding my longer fics + mini series - all stories will be completed unless I have made a note that the story has been abandoned. I have so many pieces sitting in my drafts lol but the truth is that I used to have a lot more incentive on updating my stories at a frequent pace but I just don't have that same kind of motivation anymore 🥺

I get really bad burn out whenever I push myself to finish writing something, but the lack of engagement with every post has really been messing with my enjoyment of this. I end up feeling really disappointed and frustrated, and it was all just bumming me out for a while 😂

I've been sharing posts/stories based on what I feel like recently but that's also why updates have been lagging with all my other fics 🥺 I really do appreciate your patience and I can't wait to share more of ex husband nanami with you in the future! ☺️🧡

mail 💌

[spiriteddreams]

liar

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader (past), Nanami Kento x Reader Warnings: it's entirely angst lol Word Count: ~1k

liar, liar, liar. you repeat the words in your head, let the bitter taste linger on your tongue as you stare at him. shoulders slightly drawn back and back straightened you level him with an uninterested look, praying your eyes won't give away the whirlwind of emotions in your head. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, hands clammy as you caslp them together, an attempt to stop them from trembling.

he stands across from you, hand shoved in his pockets, shoulders drooping, glasses covering crystal blue eyes but you knew he could see every tiny movement that flickered across your body. he looks different, yet he's still the same. though taller, broader, exuding a powerful aura, he's still the same gojo satoru who's sweet tooth ran wild. the same gojo satoru who grinned at the sight of danger and snapped his fingers to lay waste of the job in an instant. the same gojo satoru who, once upon a time, you believed to love you before he left with nothing more than petty excuses and half woven lies.

"i'm sorry it's taken me so long."

liar. the word sang in your head. your mouth parts, head shaking slightly as you force yourself to ignore the sincerity in his voice.

"i didn't mean to leave like that."

liar. you repeat the word again, letting out a heavy sigh. you can't run, this was gojo you were talking about. the sight of him standing outside the bakery was enough to throw you off guard. a safe haven, was what you considered the little corner shop bakery that you owned. a safe haven from the jujutsu world that you tried to stay away from after years of fighting and heartbreak had trampled over you.

"why are you here, gojo?" you pretend you don't see the way his hand falters when you address him by his surname. he takes a shaky breath and clears his throat, "i wanted to talk, if that's alright with you?"

you stare at him. take in his stance, the way he holds himself up in front of you. he's not laid back like he usually is, there's hesitance in his voice and actions, like he's acutely aware of the boundary between the two of you.

"i wanted to talk, if that's alright with you?" he's trying to approach this slowly. he doesn't want to send you fleeing, or to have you lash out at him. if rebuilding the relationship between the two of you, starting with acquaintances to friendship and maybe more, he'll take his time. he's not young like he was anymore and knows better the importance of time and patience. he thinks that you're going to push him away, he can see the conflict in your eyes, and when you open your mouth to reply, he steels himself for the worst.

"of course." you surprise yourself when they come out. but a part of you knows that a conversation between the two of you is long past due. his unexpected arrival today was enough to throw your emotions into a mix, but the sincerity in his voice, the slight plead at the end is enough to convince you that perhaps a talk might settle the unresolved tension between the two of you.

"love, is everything alright?" another voice pulls your attention from the man in front of you, prompting you to peek around gojo to see nanami standing in the doorway, tie loosened around his neck and blazer left unbuttoned as he wasn't expecting anyone to be in the bakery. you glance at the clock, then back to the businessman who's now made his way towards you, one hand slipping around your waist as he stares down the other.

"gojo, i wasn't expecting you to be here." nanami doesn't let any emotions cloud his voice, "i thought you were dispatched on a mission." the white haired sorcerer's eyes linger on where nanami's hand curls around your waist, a possessive and comforting touch to you.

he clears his throat, ignoring the urge to scream and throw a tantrum, "i finished early. i just wanted to come say hello when i saw who owned the bakery." he wants to hit himself at how small his voice seems to come out. this isn't the gojo satoru that both you and nanami had grown accustomed to. he feels small in your presence, and though a small piece of him wants to throw out crude remarks, he holds his tongue. after all, what right does he have now?

"of course." you step out of nanami's touch and busy yourself with grabbing a few pastries from the glass containers. "take a few, for you and the others. oh! i know megumi likes these, tell him to drop by sometime again." gojo hates the way he nearly flinches when you offhandedly mention that megumi's been around.

a coward. that's what he's been for too long. his pride and ego carried him to the top and where has that left him now. with a mess in the jujutsu world and his own personal life, gojo's scrambling to hold everything together. he takes a deep breath and ignores the way your hand brushes against his. he ignores the scrutinizing look that nanami's sending him. he wants to tease the 7:3 sorcerer but when he looks at the way the two of you glance at each other, even for just a second, he holds back his words. what right does he have to say anything now?

"right." he clears his throat and watches as you move back to stand next to nanami. "right, i'll see you around i guess." he makes his leave quickly, thanking you for the pastries and offering a goodbye to nanami, who remains curt with him as always.

gojo stops before he crosses the street away from the bakery and risks a glance back. you're not staring at him, not like you would if this was some sort of cliche romance novel or movie. no, you're looking up at nanami and pressing a kiss to his lips as the other sorcerer tugs you closer.

"i still love you." he says to himself, a bitter smile overtaking his features.

liar, liar liar. the wind sings back.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 (tumblr algorithm is based on reblogs) A/N: thoughts and opinions on sad gojo?? this man has been through enough but lol this is fitting

[arcade-writing]

Dear lord help me, I wanna eat Silco out 😩

Idc if he's trans or not, I'm going to make him cum with my tongue until he cries. His thighs crushing my head? My god, I'd gladly suffocate between them. His hands in my hair? I'm gone, deceased, my soul has ascended 😌

Thanks for your patience, I know I've gone off focus but I've been looking at y'all's requests and they are going to be done. I'm just plotting everything out!

Wanted to take a break from arcane requests to write other stuff to avoid burn out - hope you all understand. Doesn't mean I don't love your asks or it's a burden, just wanted to do other fandoms too!

I still very much love arcane and writing for it. It's just needing a refresher from time to time, ya know?

Too good

🍋 NSFW

Pairing: silco X reader

Warning: overstimulation, blowjobs, some ass eating, hand jobs, crying kink, slight suffocation, fingering

"Bos- uh Silco - you wanted me?"

You peered into the office, spotting him on the sofa with his legs crossed. You walked in, knowing he's not in the mood for cautious workers. Sitting opposite of him as you finally took him in. He was currently pantless, using his leg and hands to cover himself. You could feel your cheeks grow hot as you tried not to stare at the peek of dick before you.

"I've been stressed."

"I've heard, glad to see you're open to communicating that."

Oh god could this get anymore awkward. You tried to stay professional despite the system. Unsure what to do. Was he drunk? Did someone drug him? You're going to be the first one blamed if people hear about this.

You were hoping this would be a normal interaction. Whenever he's stressed he would want music on or to drink. Or have unhealthy amount of cigars. Or even just ask you to bring jinx out of her room for them to spend time together until he felt better.

But no. And you really wanted to say you hated this but you didn't. Mind racing at the different things you wanted to do to him.

"I want you to deal with it."

"How would I do-"

He cut you off, uncrossing his leg as he sat back. Hands on his thighs as he patted one. You could see it in full view. Smiling to yourself without shame as you moved towards him.

"On your knees." He bit out. You happily complied, eyes fixated on his dick.

He pressed it to your lips and you sucked around the head. Slowly descending further down as you licked and sucked. Placing kisses on untouched parts before going back to putting it in your mouth. Silco grunted as he watched. Gripping his thighs as he looked down at you with an impairment glare.

Not wanting to make him more annoyed you held the base. Swallowing as much as you could as you flicked your tongue around the shaft. Your nose just touching the small neat tuff of pubic hair as you Moaned. The vibrations made him let out a groan as one hand went to your head. Tugging you closer as you finally put all of him in your mouth.

You cupped his ass as you moved your head. Bobbing it as you moaned around him. Making sure to swirl your tongue and suck along the way. Looking up to see his eye unfocused, lips parted as if he wanted to speak but instead gritted his teeth.

It wasn't long before his climax washed over him. You sucked on the head of dick to get every last drop before moving back down. Continuing your mission to de-stress him. You weren't going to stop unless he told you to or you felt every muscle in his body go slack. He made not attempt to move you, just using his other hand to grab the other half of your head.

Thrusting into your mouth as his head rolled back. "That's it- keep going."

You let out a laugh through your nose as you grabbed the base. Focusing on his more sensitive areas. Licking a long strip down the bottom of his shaft, following the vein that ran up it. He let out a loud groan as you focused on sucking the tip. Flicking your tongue along the slit as your hand began to move. Pumping him as he clumsily jerked his hips.

You weren't sure how long you two were like this. You kept switching between fully sucking him off, to using your hand to just cockworming when he needed a breather.

Your mouth was growing tired as you removed yourself from his weeping cock. Pulling his ass towards you as you stared down at it with a small smirk. He pulled you closer and you took it as your sign to go ahead.

Your tongue went flat on his hole before your swirled around it. Using your hands to spread out his ass as you placed your mouth over his hole. He sighed as you wiggled your tongue in. Fucking him with your mouth as your hand reached up for his cock. Resuming jerking him off much to his surprise.

The double stimulation made his back arch as a moan was ripped from his throat. Jerking into your hand to get more needed friction. Your tongue dragged out of him as your fingers prodded in. Licking around it as you eased him open. Curling a finger inside as you moved up. Leaving open mouth kisses on his dick.

"Suck it." He pleaded. And so you did as he asked.

A cry ripped out of him as his legs twitched. Wrapping around your head as you moved his hips for him. Pounding his dick at the back of your throat as you moaned and hummed. Keeping your eyes on him as his grip on your head grew tighter. It was painful but watching him come undone like this was too beautiful to miss.

Your finger moved faster as you added another one. Massaging that sweet spot in his ass as you went knuckles deep.

You struggled to move your head as much as before. His legs pressing you down everytime you tried to move back. Desperately trying to keep your mouth on him as he trembled.

How many orgasms have you ripped out of him? You didn't bother counter.

"One more- I can do one more-!" It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you. "Keep going, pet."

You were here to please. Tongue flat against the bottom as you sucked harshly. Squeezing the base with your hand as you moved faster. Holding back your gags and flinches everytime his cock hit the back of your throat. Practically slipping into it as you greedily took more. You pried your fingers from his ass as you steadied his hips. Squeezing them as they bucked.

Tears were running down his cheeks. You doubted he was even aware of that. Just lost in the pleasure you were giving him as he let out more moans. He was shaking head to toe. Unable to keep still as he tried to keep up in your movements.

Breathing was becoming harder as your nose pressed against his body and his legs squeezed around your head. But you didn't care. You just wanted to keep going. He wanted to cum one more time? You were going to make it happen.

His breath hitched as his hips sputtered. This climax was alot weaker than the first. Cum squirting down your throat that you happily swallowed. He let out a cry as overstimulation completely took over. Flinching at every moment.

His legs fell from your head as his body gave out. Soft breathes coming from him as he grinned. You pulled yourself off, gasping in a large breath. Panting as you slowly sat up. For a moment you considered checking his pulse. But he just weakly grabbed for you.

You wiped away his tears as you hugged him close to your chest.

"Feel better now?" Your voice was hoarse but you pushed through it. Speaking in a small voice.

He nodded his head. Eye fluttering as he tried to stay awake.

"It's okay, I'll take over what needs to be done - I won't touch anything too important."

He hummed as he smiled. Approving of your words as he finally let himself rest. Legs still twitching. You rubbed his back, looking towards his desk to see the large pile of paperwork.

The things you do for this man. You looked back down at him with a smile as you let yourself have a few more minutes to peace.

[lovelyspencers]

Paper Rings

Synopsis: Spencer and pregnant fem!Reader spontaneously get married in Las Vegas

Word Count: 1.3k

Content Warnings: allusions to sex

❝ I like shiny things but I’d marry you in paper rings ❞

Y/N and Spencer exit the clinic his mother is placed in with their hands intertwined as she traces mindless patterns on the back of it and occasionally gives it a gentle squeeze.

The November air is flush and he had wrapped her up in his grey cardigan and the scarf he had knitted her for Christmas. Besides being a genius, his measures had been terribly wrong and she looked like the purple wool ate her alive every time she wore it.

Still, she looks adorable. The cold paints her nose in a faint red and he stops in his tracks solely to place a kiss atop of it, admiring how she scrunches her nose in response and he can’t stop himself from peppering her face with kisses.

She’s wearing the same sweater she wore on the night they first met, except the baby blue garment with puffy clouds on them looks way better under the soft glow of the sinking sun than the harsh fluorescent lights of the club his team members had dragged him to all those years ago — and back then she didn’t have a small baby bump to cover.

They are quiet, undoubtedly thinking about the same thing as only the running engines of cars and birds chirping as they settle down for the night fill the silence. His mother had brought up a question that dreaded both of them and Spencer’s mind has been occupied with it ever since.

“When will you guys finally get married?”

He proposed to her two years ago and while the initial thought was to get married as soon as possible life got in the way or more frankly a false conviction and the aftermath of his trauma.

The only thing that gave him hope as he was robbed of his freedom, his most treasured possession, was the thought of Y/N. He glanced at empty walls, envisioning all the pictures their house would be plastered in if he ever got out of there.

He went to sleep despite his concern that people might come after him because at least in his dreams he got to see her and then he’d feel safe even if it was just in his imagination.

His thoughts solely revolved around her and the future they shared if he was strong enough. He imagined her in a white ball gown and the way her eyes would brim with nothing but utter joy and love as she finally became his endlessly.

When he did survive and the fresh air outside of the confinement of prison fences reached his nose and he fell into her soothing embrace, the scent of her shampoo still the same and her touch still was full of love, all he could think about was how he never wanted to be separated from her ever again.

But they were too busy trying to fix his invisible scars to even think about drowning in the stressful process of planning a wedding again. And when he did feel like himself again with the patience and care of Y/N (as well as some long-overdue therapy session), she got pregnant and they were too busy in their own little bubble to even acknowledge the still missing rings on their fingers.

It’s not like Spencer has any doubts about spending the rest of his life with her. He knows it every morning he wakes up next to her, their blanket fully draped over solely her body and her head laying on his chest, the sun peeking through the curtains and bathing her in a glow that made her seem celestial.

He knows it every time she kisses him, her lips always tasting of strawberry chapstick and her hands softly playing with his hair as she tries her hardest to convey her love to him in the simplicity of a kiss. He always understands her secret language because truthfully he’s trying the same.

He knows it every time he walks in on her singing and dancing in the kitchen, so blissfully unaware of the horror in the world he’s constantly exposed to and giving him a glimpse of peace too.

He knows it every time she pulls his body into hers and gives him her all. The sounds that leave her mouth when he proves to her that there’s no one that knows her as much as he does and her features when she falls from grace with him.

Honestly, he’s known that he wants to spend entirety with her ever since he first laid his eyes on her.

But as always his fears get the best of him. He’s been separated from her once and he knows how much it hurt her and how can he claim to love her when he put her through that? How can he claim to love her when he’s still uncertain that he can protect her from all the evil that’s lurking in the shadows.

As he looks at her, the afterglow illuminating every imperfection on her face that he would mesmerize and admire for entirety if he could, all his fears and insecurities fade away like fallen leaves and he’s never been more certain about wanting anything more than finally call the love of his life his wife. Now.

“How mad do you think our friends would be if we got married right now?”

“What?” Y/N turns to face him, a shaky smile spreading on her face as she fiddles with the ends of her scarf.

Spencer isn’t surprised by her disbelief. The most spontaneous thing he’d done during their relationship was kissing Y/N on the porch of her house after their second date and well, get her pregnant.

“Marry me,” he repeats, mirroring the soft smile that adorns her face as he absently plays with the engagement ring on her finger, “Like right now.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and chuckles before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I don’t have a dress. We don't have rings and I’m kind of pregnant right now.”

“I’d say you’re very pregnant right now,” he laughs as he places his hand on her stomach, something he’s been doing almost subconsciously ever since they found out that they were expecting — and that exposed their little secret multiple times already.

She nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck and peppers kisses there, muttering incoherent love declaration. “You really want to marry me in a shitty chapel when I barely fit in my clothes anymore?”

He nods and places a kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her floral shampoo and resting his head on top of here. “I do. To be honest, I’d marry you in paper rings.”

Noticing the worries in her eyes, he grabs her face and cradles it like she’s the most precious thing he ever had the pleasure of holding. While he does want to marry her desperately, his number one priority is always that she feels comfortable and if that means that he has to wait forever for her then so be it.

“I don’t want to pressure you and If you want a fancy wedding then I’ll gladly give you that. I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

The sound of her laugh fills the otherwise empty parking lot, the kind that brightens up his days that would otherwise be doomed in black and white as she places a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I know. But I don’t need a fancy wedding, I just need you.”

She grabs into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a random poster she had picked up earlier and starting to fold the material until she crafted a rather messy ring.

“You ready to get married in paper rings?”

[bluwails]

Ive been real inspired by @chipper-smol 's au. I find myself snickering at Ghost/feral's antic mainly because I have young siblings and in my home there is never a dull moment. Child antics are literally my life rn and I cant help but relate.

So while on a nostalgic trip i was struck with this poorly written fic. And I hope you enjoy.

No edits because we die like men!

The time for rest had asserted its hold over Hallownest again as bugs wound down from the days toils. The servants and knights had quietly excused themselves to their personal quarters and the kingsmoulds that marched dutifully down each hall had slowed to a silent pace.

The white Lady had taken in the idea to walk the palace before retiring to her personal quarters for the evening. Dryya, her most respected and loyal guard, walked quietly behind her as she stiffled a yawn much to the white lady's amusement. She had dismissed her hours ago to rest but she stubbornly stuck to her and insisted on being around to protect her on her leisurely stroll.

" Your majesty, you need not worry for me. I will-" Dryya gaped stiffling another sign of encroaching sleepiness," -be with you until you retire to your bedroom."

She still felt fascination bubble under the surface as she observed her; a warm aura seeping off of her.

As a higher being they will never need these things like rest or daily meals. But they merely adopted the actions to blend more with the society around them. Just like her dear wyrm, Things like sleep were never on the forefront of their mind. They could spend decades awake and unbothered by the need. But they made resting a habit to demonstrate that one should rest after work.

Shuffling down the halls toward her favorite veranda befor she heard an unfamiliar scuffling. It was hurried but small. Most likely a small bug.

"Behind me your majesty." Dryya hissed pulling her nail from her side her alert instantly raised. As late as it was not many would be awake, much less in the halls working so fervently.

As they turned the corner they spotted two familiar horns working quickly with a brush and bottles of ink.

It was the feral vessel.

" You cheeky Sqwib! " she screamed shocking the little vessel. Their small hand dropping the brush they'd use to vandalize the walls. "You are at it again!" Dryya huffed indignant at the vessel as she marched over, sheathing her nail, and quickly bonking them between the horns.

" Do you know how you terrified the Queen?" She growled seizing their ink colored hands. " and to top that, you dare vandalize the white palace yet again!"

"Dear knight, there is no reason to be so harsh. " the white Lady softly appealed. "The walls can be cleaned and the ink replaced but the trust from a child cannot." She calmly lectured using a branch to pet the vessel.

"You are to lenient with them my lady." She huffed releasing them. Dryya was no fan of the feral vessel. Time and time again they'd watch and suffer their pranks. Many a time her nail was stolen only for it to be returned muddy or, miraculously, bent at the tip.

She was not the only one of the five knights to have their belongings weaseled from them and returned in less then favorable conditions.

"They are just being a child Dryya." WL cooed as she slowly squatted in front of them. "Soften your heart towards them. If only for me."

The knight reluctantly huffed again as she faced away. "Praise the Queen's endless patience, you little tyrant, you are saved for now. "

The white Lady smiled warmly as she looked the small vessel over. At this time they were meant to be tucked away in bed. The schedule their father made, though strict was optimize for their healthy growth. She suspected in full that the pure vessel had curled themselves into bed without a second thought, while their sibling ran through the halls causing their daily commotion.

In all honesty, she found their outbursts charming. Each trick, prank and shenanigan they pulled continuously showed her how lively they truly were. When they'd arrived from the abyss with their sibling, she lamented at their sight. Seeing them as nothing more than walking corpses until she heard of what would honestly sound like a farce. They'd barely stepped foot into the white palace before they entered a meeting between the dreamers, with no command or reason, and unleashed the most ungodly revolting smell. Shocking and disgusting the entire gathering forcing them to vacate the room entirely.

When her wyrm ranted about them that evening on how they indignantly, stomping their tiny grub feet and blantly ignoring him, forced them to clean the entire room alongside the retainers as punishment she could not help but laugh in an odd mix of relief and joy releasing a knot in her chest she did not know she held.

Looking again to the picture on the wall it was of clearly her dear wyrm. Her giggle chimming like bells as she observed it further. It was simple and childish as but it was an accurate representation of her wyrm. His elegant crown like horns now simple zigzags, their fangs drawn large and silly, with their tongue poked out in a not very gentlemen manner. (She suspects this is how they saw their father when they ranted at them.) It was crude, hurriedly painted, and was encompassed by tiny hand marks and had all the makings of a goofy Caricature and she wished she could save it.

"I see the throws of art beckoned you from your deep sleep small one." knowing full well they did it to mess with the king again. "maybe we should have Lurien tutor you to bring out your talents?" She questioned aloud watching the vessel furiously shake their head from the corner of their eye.

"Then what brings you from bed?"

The child twisted at their fingers looking down as they snuck peeks at her face.

They signed quickly keeping their ink covered hands slightly in sight. But It obvious it was something else. It was no news to her that they held many things back from them. And the curiosity of what it could be danced in the back of her mind, but she refused to force them anymore than they'd allow.

"You know you require rest in order to grow." She purred gently as she angled her small one's mask toward her.

Their mask tilted in a way that mimicked a pouty huff. Her heart swelling at how cute they were. She could not help but poke a small amount of fun.

"So you do not wish to grow anymore?" She questioned exaggeratedly tilting her head and placing a branch to her cheek.

They seemed to freeze at the and mull the thought around in their head. To her, this was the sweetest gesture. She'd remembered when the two vessels first molted and got their bearings. Though they thought no one was watching, she caught them do a small jig in celebration of their new body. Wiggling their newly formed fingers, touching their more angled faces and observing their budding wings.

" I'd say you'd want to." She whispered calmly retrieving her handkerchief to clean them.

"How can one so small hold such large secrets?" She hummed wiping the pink ink from them.

The vessel signed, a cheeky air to them as they flexed their arms nearly rupturing her heart from cuteness alone.

"Dryya please get someone to assist in cleaning up. " with a bow Dryya reluctantly left grumbling to herself.

"Now as much as I would love for you and to stay up and get into all kinds of mischief. I would say its time for bed. " She cooed admiring their clean face.

The vessel gestured again with more emphasis.

"I see." She hmmed making a show of thinking of what to do. In reality she had an idea of what to do. Somewhere deep in her memory was a song that. She could not remember the face that sang it to her but she remembers it working nearly every time. Ushering her to sleep. "Then would you care to accompany me on the veranda?" She asked pointing to the large glass door not far behind them.

Nodding they streched their arms up towards her. Obligating the gesture she swept them up in her branches as she walked slowly to the door.

she allowed small blooms to bloom on her creating a pleasant perfume before sitting on her stool already set up outside.

The vessel signed again gesturing at themselves.

Chuckling she squeezed them close to her. "Not essentially. You are of two pale beings and void." She murred quietly; her light warming them as they sunk into her lap. "You don't really need sleep. But its good because it helps you grow." She hummed wrapping her branches around them.

They gestured wildly again wiggling their fingers above their head causing her to erupted in laughter.

"Yes." She snickered "maybe if my wyrm slept and rested more they would grow as well I will be sure to suggest it to them later." Feeling the small ones shoulders shake in signs of laughter she hugged them.

" you remind me much of him in his younger years." She thought aloud as the vessel shook their head furiously. " well the both of you refuse to sleep on time so I imagine you two are similar in that sense." She mused as the small threw a small tantrum.

"Very well, shall I sing you something to assist you to sleep?" They nodded sinking back into her lap, placing their head on her chest.

As they sat, staring out into the lush garden and flickering lumaflies below she hummed a quiet tone shutting her eyes calling upon the memory.

Her branch rubbing small circles into their child's back as her voice trilled lyrics long thought lost to her:

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby

Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Be loved in return to the end of your days

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you

I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay

Loo-li, lai-lay

Only the soft breathing and the feeling their body relax and their shoulders ease indicated they drifted off.

"Sweet dreams my small one."

Thanks so much for reading. In all honesty i have only played hollowknight for about a month and half and im already so invested in the fandom. (I'm still getting my butt handed to me by ogrim. Please dungy boi stop throwing sh!t at me long enough so i can hit you. You broke all my fragile charms alreday!-🥺😢) You guys are so creative and fluffy and have no problem hurting my tender sensibilities.

For those curious the song is called sleepsong by secret garden. I used to listen to it ages ago before bed.

[moonofiron]

I saw this one panel in the manga and lost my shit.

He looks so 🥵 here. This is the panel that has inspired this smutty fanfic. I also wanted to draw something related to this piece so I've thrown in an illustration between the story as well! Enjoy!

Jujutsu Kaisen, Chapter 78

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters: Geto Suguru x (fem)reader

Genre: smut, bondage, kinbaku, edging, overstimulation, explicit sexual content, visual content thrown in too 🥵

Rating: M

Synopsis: Geto shows you his skills at kinbaku

Word count: 2.4K ~

Minors, dni.

Geto Suguru ties the last knot near your ankle. You whimper from the rope chaffing your skin but ease into the burn and position yourself the way Geto wants.

It has taken months for you to get to this point. 8 months back you had casually asked him where he disappears to for hours at end every Saturday. You couldn't hold it in and he couldn't bring himself to lie to you.

"I..I practice kinbaku love. It's to destress, really."

//

"Oh, what's that?"

"Umm, it's the art of tying knots. It's derived from the act of tying prisoners during the war but now it's a...a form of art."

"I see." After a moment's pause, you had asked, "So what do you tie knots with?"

"Three strand jute ropes. On manequins."

You didn't really get it and had pouted slightly.

To break the awkward silence, you had asked him, "Will you show me sometime, Suguru?"

His face had clouded and he had looked the other way. "Maybe. Maybe, someday I will."

//

"There, all done," says Suguru joyfully. He puts his hand under your chin and pulls your face up so you can look at yourself, his artwork, in the large mirror in front of you.

You gasp at how helpless you look. You're naked and your hair is tied up neatly in a bun. Suguru did your hair earlier and decorated it with the delicate pin he bought for you on your second date. You're pretty much bent into a ball and perched on the futon you both have fucked on on so many nights that you've lost count now. Your hands are tightly tied behind your back and your ankles are tied to your thighs. The knots go down from your neck all the way down to your clit and then climb up your spine. Your breasts perk up from the pressure around them. The knots are elegant and look complicated, and you can see your cunt swelling from the pressure of the tight ropes around your inner thighs.

Please do not repost or plagiarize.

Years of practicing kinbaku has rendered him into a master of this art that he's extremely private about. His passion leaks in the way his long fingers tackle the ropes around your body, almost as if he's making love to them.

You meet his eyes in the mirror and see him looking right back at you as he bites his soft lips. His eyes are dreamy and lustful, and he wears a look of pride that pushes all the buttons for you.

He takes out a small black ball from his kimono's left sleeve and your eyes widen. He walks around and sits in front of you so his face is inches away from yours.

"Open your mouth, love," he whispers.

You do as he says without even giving it a second thought. He pushes the ball-gag in your mouth gently and you close your eyes as you envelope it with your wet mouth. He moves closer so your nose buries into his chest as he clamps the ball-gag strap at the back of your head. When done, he sits back and strokes a finger across your jaw.

“I'll be back in sometime, baby. Be good. I'll be watching." He winks and kisses the ball in your mouth gently, his gaze never leaving yours. A soft gasp escapes his lips. And then, just like that, he's gone.

You panic. 'What? I thought he'll just be showing me how it's done. What does he mean he'll be back in sometime? When? How long?' you think. A flash of fear makes your stomach drop. But then you calm down.

The first few minutes are easy. You spend them admiring how beautiful you look, how lovely Suguru has made you. But, after a while you get bored and start looking around. There's nothing to do except wait for Suguru to come back. Perhaps he ran out of ropes. The thought excites you but you don't know how long he'll take. You don't know if he's locked the door. There's no way to tell how much time has passed. All you know is that there's a warmth spreading in your stomach from the anticipation of his arrival. You try to bend down to take a peek at your cunt and see that you've formed a small pool of wetness on the futon. And, you notice a strange little cube embedded in the knot on top of your clit. You instinctively reach with your hands for your clit forgetting you can't and let out a small moan as the ropes dig into your wrists. You look back at yourself in the mirror. You notice the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead and that your nipples are plump and hard. You look around frantically before you give up and enter a kind of peace that you've never known before. You look up at the ceiling, close your eyes, and hear yourself make a gurgling noise. The small cube has suddenly come alive and is vibrating against your clit, making you squirm and lose balance. Your entire body jerks and shivers as you moan out Suguru's name unintelligibly, the ball-gag stopping you from forming coherent sentences. You feel a wave of pleasure coming and then, just as suddenly as the cube had come alive, it dies, leaving you on the edge, helpless and slick and frustrated from being denied release.

//

Geto Suguru absolutely can not wait to get back home to you. He watches you through a curse, a little eyeball, he's placed in the corner of his room. He struggles to keep still and loses patience in all his meetings. He wants them to get over as soon as possible so he can focus on you. He finishes mission reports and some pending tasks as he watches you struggling and squirming, wet and waiting. His cock twitches at the absolutely stunning sight of you, wriggling on the floor, helpless and vulnerable.

//

//

You don't know how many hours it has been. All you know is that it's the 12th time that the small cube has come alive and you can't take it anymore. The threads of the ropes are wet and cold, the futon is completely ruined, you're hot and extremely bothered. Your thighs are sticky and slick. You need to cum. You can't take the teasing, the absolute relentlessness of this thing that's refusing to let you cum. You're not in an elegant stance anymore, either. Suguru, without even being here with you, has made you fall face-first into the futon, your back arched so your hips are in the air. You're uncomfortable and all you can think about is Getou's cock buried deep inside your throbbing cunt. Your hair has almost come undone and strands stick to your breasts. Your jaw aches and your neck and chin are covered in drool. You're focused on your release. You'll definitely get there before this damned thing shuts off again. But, you know that's wishful thinking.

'This is getting out of hand,' you think as you feel tears dripping down your flushed cheeks. You try to get a sense of balance but you're so disoriented that you can't think anymore. You breathe heavily and are about to close your eyes when you hear the low buzz of the vibrator again. You're grunt and moan and your entire body buckles again and again. In all your frenzy, you don't realise when Getou comes back and quietly sits on the floor behind you.

When the vibrator stops, you scream an unintelligible, "No, please!!" and drop face-first on the futon again. Your laboured breath makes it hard to concentrate on anything. When you finally calm down, you feel his presence. You look back and see his kimono loosly wrapped around his waist, the sleeves are halfway off his shoulders as he gently strokes his cock, already rock-hard and glistening. He watches you intently. You let out a sigh of relief and arch your back to let him know he can use you anytime. Amused and greedy at once, he pulls you to himself, and unclamps the ball gag. He shoves his cock in your mouth, grabs your hair, and maneuvers your head just the way you like it. He moans and grunts out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He's extremely vocal today and this is new.

He suddenly stops and kisses your mouth hard.

“Such a pretty babe today. Eh? You look stunning.”

"Su..Suguru, pl..please fuck me. Please. Please. Please." You break down, you can't bring yourself to speak coherently. You start to lower your head so you can taste his cock - anything to have him inside you - but he pulls your hair hard and stops you.

He pushes you back and makes you lie down. He carefully unties only the knots near your inner thighs. His cool fingers give you shivers. He cups your nipples with his mouth and licks, nibbles, and bites his way down to your clit.

“Who are you so fucking wet for?”

“Suguru! You!”

“Yeah?"

“Uhun, please, just please, take me already."

“Yeah? How?"

“Suguru, I am begging you. I cant-"

Getou comes back up in a flash. He squeezes your face with his hand and roars, “I asked, how?"

You're crying again and he can't stop thinking how gorgeous you look, sweaty and flushed, begging for his cock.

You take a sharp intake of breath and say, “Getou I want you.”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn't let your face go.

“I want you inside me, I want your cock inside me. I'm throbbing and dripping and so ready for you. Just for you. For you to use and love and fuck. Please Daddy." you say, in a trembling voice.

Suguru lets go of your face and removes his kimono. He's naked underneath. He can't believe he gets to ruin a goddess like you. He starts to lightly flutter his tongue across your swollen clit. You're trembling and it doesn't take long for your whimpering to turn into screaming. You're so close to cumming, finally! Your eyes roll back as you feel his long and thin tongue lapping up your wetness. He licks it like a fucking dog before kissing it sweetly and moves back, leaving you on the edge again and you have such a violent reaction that he lets out a strong grunt.

You've never felt so helpless before. You realise that he's enjoying himself a bit too much seeing you struggle, at your body so bent before him. You're sobbing now, and he hovers over you.

“You're making me lose it with all this begging and squirming, baby," he whispers and thrusts into you in one deep stroke. You immediately bite his neck hard and moan deep into it. Clenching around his cock hard, you take in as much of him as you can. His touch on your arms and lower back is electrifying but he soon holds the ropes around you for leverage. He moves in a quick pace and it doesn't take you long to gush around him, giving him a cumsleeve that he bends down to look at. Your release is so so sweet, your toes are curled, your calves are flexed, your back is arched, and your teeth have left Suguru's neck with spots of blood.

“Please...do..don't stop, Daddy,”

“I won't baby, you've been so good. We've got all night.”

“Night?! How long were ...uhh..were you gone?” You pant.

“6 hours."

Suguru looks at himself moving in and out of your plump cunt as his long hair tickles your breasts. It makes his cock twitch and harder inside of you. He pushes your knees back and the ropes dig into your lower back. He grabs your hair and bends your head to your stomach.

“Look at me moving in and out of you.”

The sight turns you on even more. You didn't know that getting so hot amd bothered was even possible. It seems like you've been cumming for a while now and you're overstimulated.

Suguru pulls out. You gasp and your head rolls back. He turns you around and spends a moment to admire his rope-work, and, of course, your plump and throbbing slick cunt that he's going to fuck again.

“Look at how gorgeous you are," he gently holds your chin and pulls it up. You can see yourself, your face is flushed a deep red and you're bruised everywhere. Suguru towers behind you, holding his cock that's glistening with your cum. You can't believe how good he makes you feel. You wiggle your hips at him, inviting him.

He positions his cock to enter you but starts to rub it on your clit instead. Sensitive from all the edging before, your clit blooms from the rubbing and the warmth. You moan.

"Fuck, I love how noisy your cunt gets."

“Oh, oh, please don't stop. Let me cum all over your cock again."

Suguru bites his lip and doesn't take his eyes off you in the mirror. He can't help but admire how sexy you sound and look. He continues to rub his cock slow but hard against you and you collapse on the futon again, cumming. You've squirted all over the base of his cock and stomach and your screams are drown out everything else.

”Such a good girl. Cumming all over Daddy like that."

He thrusts his cock inside of your swollen cunt and continues to move inside you for what seems like an eternity.

"Daddy's gonna paint you so pretty, love," he whispers as he pulls out, grunts, and cums all over your back, on the ropes, in your hair.

He collapses on your side and looks up at the ceiling and then at you. He's out of breath as he gently plays with his drained cock.

You're completely spent and about to pass out when you feel him untying all the knots quickly. His face is tinted with concern. When you're finally free from the ropes, he tries to massage you lightly and helps you lie down properly. He brings you a bottle of water right away and kisses your forehead.

“I'll run you bath, princess. And then I'll get you something to eat. Okay?"

"Hmm," is all you can manage.

You hear the bath running and he comes back, picks you up and takes you to the bathroom. He bathes you and shampoos your hair, kissing you everywhere with sweet pecks. When you're both finally in bed, you snuggle up close to him and dare to ask -

"When will you tie me up next?"

[mimisempai]

The evidences of our love are everywhere

Summary:

Thor is worried about his little brother's happiness and spies on Loki and Mobius in a more or less subtle way.

Tumblr request : Thor spying on Loki and Mobius.

As usual I got carried away and added most of my favorite tropes :p

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33254275

1643 words - Rating G

"I know it, that you are watching us Thor."

Thor wanted to protest at first, but even though he hadn't known Mobius long, he knew the man was perceptive and there was no point in trying to lie to him.

He sighed, "I admit it."

"I suspect you have no malicious intent," Mobius said kindly, "but I would like to know why."

Thor thought about what he would say in response.

He could see that his little brother was happy. That he had changed, or rather that he had become the best version of himself.

And this was partly thanks to Mobius, but he needed to see it with his own eyes. In their daily lives. So he had been watching for every moment he could spy on them during their stay in Asgard.

**********

One evening, he had overheard a scene he never thought he would see.

Mobius with a brush in his hand was sitting behind Loki and asked him softly, "Should I start brushing your hair?"

Loki nodded and closed his eyes, as if he already knew he was going to like it. Like it had become something familiar.

Mobius started at the bottom, taking care not to pull, then slowly worked his way up. After a while, Mobius' fingers replaced the brush and it was clear that Loki was enjoying it. He did not startle or protest. He turned his back to someone and let them touch him. This showed how much he trusted Mobius.

Not so long ago, such contact would have been unimaginable. If it was anyone else but Mobius, Thor thought, Loki would never have allowed it.

Thor could hardly tear himself away from the scene since he was so fascinated.

Mobius stopped and his hands slid over Loki's shoulders and Loki held his head back with a gentle smile on his face. Mobius leaned over and kissed him gently.

Thor thought it was time for him to retire.

**********

" Tell me candidly, is there anything in me, except my ugliness, which displeases you? Do you object to my birth, my temper, my manners?”

“No, truly,” replied the princess; “I like everything in you, except”—and she hesitated courteously—”except your appearance.”

Thor had just entered the living room of Loki and Mobius' suite and stopped in front of the incredible scene he had before his eyes.

Loki was lying on the couch, his head on Mobius' lap, Mobius had one hand in his hair and in the other hand a book that he was reading aloud.

Thor held his breath, because the two men had neither seen nor heard him.

Mobius continued reading.

“Then, madam, I need not lose my happiness; for if I have the gift of making clever whosoever I love best, you also are able to make the person you prefer as handsome as ever you please. Could you love me enough to do that?”

“I think I could,” said the princess, and her heart being greatly softened towards him, she wished that he might become the handsomest prince in all the world. No sooner had she done so than Riquet with the Tuft appeared in her eyes the most elegant young man she had ever seen.

Loki sneered, "Of course, to be happy, they both have to be beautiful and smart. I know it's a fairy tale and doesn't fit reality, but frankly, I'd never read that to my kids."

"Sweetheart," Mobius said softly while stroking Loki's hair soothingly before continuing, "Listen to the end, I think you'll enjoy it more."

Loki harrumphed, but remained silent as Mobius continued, " Some people have said that this was no fairy-gift, but that love created the change. They declare that the princess, when she thought over her lover’s perseverance, patience, good-humour, and discretion, and counted his numerous fine qualities of mind and disposition, saw no longer the deformity of his body or the plainness of his features. However this may be, it is certain that the princess married him; that either she retained her good sense, or he never felt the want of it; and he never again became ugly—or, at least, not in his wife’s eyes, so they both lived very happy until they died. Morality, all is beautiful in those whom we love, and those whom we love are witty and intelligent"

Loki turned on his back and looked at Mobius.

Thor stepped back into the doorway, he was no longer able to see but he heard Loki, "Mobius, it's kind of like the two of us in the end," he chuckled before continuing, "except that we're both princes. But what I mean is that you have seen beyond what I have shown the world."

Thor heard Mobius nod before answering, "And you, Loki, have opened my mind.  So there is nothing to stop us from living very happy until we die."

The only thing Thor heard again before walking away was his little brother's undoubtedly happy laughter.

**********

Thor had not often had the opportunity to see Loki in his Jotun form. He knew that even after all this time it was still an extremely sensitive subject for his brother, so he was surprised to see him like this, sitting on the balcony railing of their suite, looking at the sky.

He was about to join him, when Mobius appeared next to him bringing what appeared to be some refreshments.

When Loki was aware of Mobius' presence, he began to revert to his Aesir form. But Mobius protested, "Loki, you know you don't have to hide from me, Sweetheart. If you want to take on that appearance, I have no problem with it."

And as Loki returned to his Jotun appearance, Mobius put down the tray and approached him, gently touching his face, as if he was used to doing it, knowing that if he lingered too long, the cold sensation would be too much.

Loki said in a voice Thor didn't know, "Do you really not mind touching me while I'm like this?"

Mobius shook his head and replied, "No, the only downside is that I can't touch you or kiss you like I want to, but otherwise I have no problem with this shape. I told you before, I love you, I love everything about you and it's part of you so I love this form too."

Then Mobius sat Loki down on a small bench that was on the balcony, put a pillow on Loki's lap, and lay down next to him resting his head on the pillow then said softly, "And you see, even when you are in this form, it is possible for us to be close."

As he walked away, Thor thought to himself that he would not soon forget his brother's amazed expression.

**********

The next time, Thor had first heard just laughter, as he went to knock on the door of Mobius and Loki's suite.

"No, Mobius! Stop it! You're scratching! I don't want you to kiss me if it scratches like that!"Then Thor heard Mobius reply in a sulky voice, which was quite rare, "Loki..."

"No, no, no your itchy skin will not come in contact with my delicate skin!"

He heard Mobius cough before he replied, "Then would you please shave me?"

Then the two men seemed to be gone, and Thor couldn't help but be curious and slowly opened the door. The living room was empty, but Thor heard voices that seemed to come from a small adjoining room. He knew he shouldn't, but he peeked through the half-open door anyway.

Mobius was sitting with a towel over his shoulders, shaving cream on his cheeks and chin. Loki had rolled up his sleeves, and was holding a razor. He leaned over to Mobius, and with a serious look on his face asked, "Do you trust me?"

Mobius answered firmly, looking him straight in the eye, "Intimately." before stretching his chin forward and closing his eyes.

Thor once again baffled, discreetly turned back and left their suite.

**********

"I'm sorry Mobius. Of course I had no malicious intent. I guess I just wanted to make sure that Loki was happy. It was something I didn't expect to see. I think I wanted to see it for myself, I'm sorry I was kind of a stalker, I-"

Mobius stopped him by putting a hand on his forearm, "It's okay Thor, you don't have to justify yourself. I know Loki's life, his whole life, so I understand perfectly well the need to reassure you, but I can promise you one thing, that I will always do everything to make him happy. That will always be my priority. Loki is the only family I have so I will always take care of him."

Thor nodded visibly moved as a voice echoed behind him, "You see, brother you don't have to worry. My happiness is truly real."

As if to prove what he had just said was true, Loki approached Mobius and put his arm around his waist before kissing him on the cheek.

"This man Thor, is the person who allowed me to change what I thought was my destiny, he saw the good in me, and in doing so I finally believed that I was capable of doing good."

Thor answered softly, "I always knew you were capable of doing good, little brother, but I'm glad you believe it now too."

Then he stepped forward and took the two men in a strong embrace before stepping back and adding, "Mobius, there was only one thing that was wrong with everything you told me before."

Mobius and Loki looked at him in surprise.

Thor added with a gentle smile, "You said Loki was your only family, but that's not true, it's not true anymore. Welcome to the family. We are your family and you are ours now."

_________

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

Fairy Tale used : Riquet and the tuft, oft underrated or shallowly interpreted. Shaving scene, inspired by Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle shaving scene in CSI

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[yannasunflower]

dust to dust | chapter two

chapter one | chapter two

ao3

You don't know what makes you save Kuroo Tetsurou's life. All you know is there is no world to save anymore, but damn if you're just stupid enough to try.

Genre: hurt/comfort/romance/angst Rating: Mature, subject to change (gore, violence) Kuroo x fem!Reader Word count: 3.5k

hey everyone! here's chapter two, as promised. this fic is also cross-posted to AO3, where i'm under the same username. linked above as well! next chapter, action picks up, plot picks up, and we get more Kuroo, promise. enjoy, and as always, please reblog, like, and comment <3

Nobody ever told you how absolutely boring a zombie apocalypse could be.

Your ragtag group of survivors have scavenged what entertainment they can - books and gym equipment, even a few board games. People like Suga and Takeda keep busy with the children, teaching them to read and garden and how to survive if mommy and daddy never come back for them.

You open one lazy eye as a gaggle of them stumble after Suga, hanging on to his every word.

You’re not sure how the two men handle placing a long knife in a child’s chubby hand, fingers barely able to grip it,and showing them how to strike right at a nighstalker’s heart, fast and deep. Their giggles float through the air and the sound is almost dreamlike and if you keep your eyes closed, you can pretend this is a movie and when you open them, the credits will roll and you can go home.

Others tend to the elderly, of which there are only three in your group. You try to keep them comfortable and as far from danger as possible. But your body constantly prickles with the knowledge that they aren’t just vulnerable - they are a vulnerability. A hole in the brick wall you are attempting to build around this little community.

The healthy and fit young people patrol and take rotations on the watchtowers. Teenagers help with the lessons. Takeda had been firm about this. Once a kid turned seventeen, they were allowed to join the patrols, but until then, they stayed sequestered away.

It was almost comical, telling a tall, strong, angry Tobio that he had to mind the children. He towers over you, but he had bent to your will after a brief glaring contest. And then a week later, Shoyo had bounded into everyone’s hearts, including his, and the pair were inseparable.

Kiyoko, for her part, had taken one look at Yachi, shivering at Hinata’s side, and adopted her, sweeping her under a protective wing and keeping her there.

For people like you, who have no “bedside manner” as Kiyoko puts it, there are chores and day to day mini emergencies to keep you busy. Somehow, in the months since the world finally decided to fall apart, you have become mediator and negotiator. It’s an unlikely role; you can see your mother’s arched brow if she was still alive to see you now.

You barely have the patience for grocery shopping.

She would have laughed, elbowing your father, who would have made a valiant attempt at a straight face.

These are useless memories but you allow yourself to indulge for a moment. You have nothing better to do. Lunch is cooking, inventory has been completed, the guard rotation is set for the next two weeks. Ukai had waved you off this morning when you finally managed to corner him, complaining about your ceaseless energy and the “mad glint” in your eye. His words.

“That look means trouble for me,” he had growled, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Go to your cell and get some sleep for the love of anything you find holy.” Without another word, the man had leaned against a wall, put his feet up on his desk, and closed his eyes. A clear dismissal. You tried not to huff but you definitely stomped a little bit on the way out.

You don’t know how to tell him that staying in your cell, with your eyes closed, is inviting the living nightmares. You don’t know how to tell anyone, really, that you are just as haunted as this prison, as Daichi’s eyes.

That the only holy thing left in this world is fear and if you succumb to that, you’ll never move again.

You let a sigh tumble out of you. Forcibly, you shove your thoughts in another direction.

It had been a week since you brought home your latest stray. Kuroo had spent the first three days doing little else but sleep and eat. Daichi has taken to walking him around the Pit every day, explaining the way things work, and Suga showed him his pride and joy just yesterday. Kuroo had been suitably impressed by the garden, if the generous second and third helpings Suga thought he was sneaking to him at dinnertime were anything to go by.

The man has filled out nicely. He looks less skeleton, more human after sleep and hot food. You had peeked in on him in the grey of dawn that morning after Daichi not-so-subtly hinted that Kuroo had been asking about you.

He sleeps curled up on his side, hair falling against his cheek. In another world, you would have taken a picture.

Kiyoko tells you that the men like him, that Tanaka has stopped regarding him with all the wariness of a stray cat, and that she’s pretty sure Yachi has a crush on him.

You open your eyes into a blazing afternoon, unsurprised to see the subject of your thoughts stretching in the courtyard, the weak sunlight rippling over his bare arms. His black hair is messy as ever and you are struck all over again by how tall he is.

Tobio got a new babysitter, you think with no small amount of amusement. The gangly teenager needs someone to keep him in line and frankly, you don’t have the time and Hinata is just as likely to suggest some stupid shit for them to get into as he is.

You are still stretched out like a cat on a bench, letting the sun warm you, half-hoping it will lull you into a nap.

It’s boredom, more than anything, that makes you turn your head toward Kuroo.

“If you’d like to get some exercise, we have equipment. I’m sure Noya can show you,” you call.

Kuroo jumps and swivels to look at you, eyes wide and so, so dark. You look away. Something about him is like staring at the sun; too long, and your eyes burn.

“Didn’t see you there,” he admits easily, sauntering over to your bench. You eye his approach, noting that he really must be feeling a lot better. His movements are more fluid now, lean muscles becoming apparent on his shoulders.

Daichi has blessed every woman, and a few men, in the Pit by finding Kuroo a pair of grey joggers and a muscle tank top for everyday wear.

“I don’t do well with sitting still,” he says, leaning over you. His head casts you in shadow, blotting out the sun. “This is something I think you can understand.”

Up close, you can see that the shadows beneath his eyes are retreating gradually. His smile looks less like a grimace today.

You hum, swinging your legs over the bench and sitting up. Blood rushes from your head and you lean back against your palms. Kuroo lowers himself to sit next to you.

“Daichi forces me to limit my rotations on the guard towers and patrols,” you answer. “When we first found this place and cleaned it out, I was working overtime and made myself sick. Him and Kiyoko have been conspirators against me ever since.”

Your fingers thrum against your thigh as you say this. You feel more than see Kuroo’s eyes on them.

“They love you,” he points out, a little unnecessarily.

You snort.

“Love is expensive nowadays and everyone in the Pit is broke.”

“You love them back even more.”

You glare at him but he is just looking at you, tracing the planes of your face. A frown tugs at your lips.

“How are you feeling?”

Kuroo rolls his shoulders experimentally, stretching his arms above his head.

“Better,” he affirms. “More like myself.”

“A nosy busybody who talks like a grandpa?”

“Exactly.”

He is grinning now and you have to fight to keep yourself from returning the expression.

The bruises on his face are yellow now. You estimate it will only take a couple more weeks of regular meals for his face to fill out and his skin to look youthful again. You don’t bother asking him how long he had been alone, what happened to his family. None of that matters now. The apocalypse is a great equalizer.

“I talked to Takeda and Kiyoko this morning,” you begin, leaning your head back and closing your eyes against the sun. “They agreed to give you another week before putting you on guard rotation.”

“I would appreciate that. I want to earn my keep, however I can.”

A ghost of a smile dances across your lips.

“You’re just bored,” you tease. It’s been a long time since you felt sleepy and loose enough to tease anyone.

“You say that now, but newbies get the shittiest schedule possible,” you warn him, unsure why you’re telling him this. “Be prepared. Once you’re back to top form, we’ll discuss sending you on patrols for medicine and expanding that garden of Suga’s.”

There’s silence but it’s comfortable, easy. You let yourself enjoy it for just a few moments before standing, opening your eyes and offering Kuroo a full smile and your hand.

As he shakes it, looking only a little confused, you wonder how much longer he would have survived on his own in the city.

“Welcome to the Pit,” you say before turning on your heel and walking away.

~~~

Nightmares are as plentiful as soil on Suga’s fingers.

A sliver of moonlight is all that keeps you from sinking into the darkness, skin clammy, chest heaving. Your fingers twist into the sheets. A prayer is whispered that you didn’t scream this time. You can’t bear the thought of Kiyoko running again, feet bare, knife in hand and tears glistening on her cheeks. Her utter, pure relief haunted you for a month.

It would be so easy, you think, to never get up again.

Kiyoko would care for you. Daichi would stop by, every day, and update you. Ukai would read to you, probably, or nap in your cell, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

These are the thoughts that force you up, out, stumbling into your worn boots, shrugging a jacket on.

Takeda finds you in the office hours later, hunched over inventory reports in his neat handwriting, hair pulled back. He puts a pot of coffee on and hands you a steaming mug, holding a hand out for the report you’re struggling to understand.

“Winter is coming,” you sigh as you hand it over. He doesn’t ask about the shadows beneath your eyes, doesn’t comment on the fact that it’s barely six-thirty in the morning and you’ve clearly been awake for a number of hours.

A smile quirks at his lips.

“I didn’t know Tanaka managed to get the TV’s up and running,” he jokes. You wave your hand in a vague gesture, taking another sip of the liquid heaven in your hand.

“We need to get winter supplies,” you answer and that sobers him up. He nods, slowly, eyes roving the paper.

“Winter isn’t for over six months,” he reminds you. An eyebrow is raised. A teacher, waiting for an explanation. In moments like these, you see the high school teacher that you’d found barricaded in his office, babbling a stream of students’ names that Daichi had quietly whispered as your group cut them down, reading them off their uniforms.

On Takeda’s worst nights, as you guarded the door to his cell, you’d heard those same names, apologies and nonsensical gibberish streaming from his mouth as he grappled with his dreams and feverish tremors.

You stand, stretching, before stepping in front of a map of the city that Suga had snagged on one of his patrols. It’s huge, taking up an entire wall. Little markers litter the paper, different colors, and you run your finger over the pale blue ones in the northeast corner.

“There’s a limited supply of winter clothes in the city. I don’t want other groups getting to it first - we don’t need that bastard holding it over our heads when we have food and they don’t,” you remind him. Your arms cross behind your back automatically. “With the snows, we’ll need snow boots. The kids need jackets and thermals. We need to completely outfit the prison’s entire water supply system to last through snowstorms. We need hot water before then or half of us are going to be too sick, and the other half will be taking care of them. We need medicine, too.”

You tick off each item on your fingers, pausing to consider if you’ve missed something. You’re probably missing ten somethings and you struggle to see what they are. You need more coffee.

Takeda is twenty-nine, but when you turn to look at him finally, he seems sixty, glasses dangling from his fingers, nose bridge pinched between his knuckles.

He mutters something suspiciously close to a curse under his breath before opening his eyes.

“You’re right,” he admits. “We’re going to need at least seven months to prepare.”

The morning is a whirlwind. You send the youngest children, always the earliest risers, to fetch Daichi and Kiyoko, both much more bright-eyed than they have any right to be. Takeda drags a yawning Ukai into the office moments later and Tanaka slouches after them. Suga pokes his head in to give you a little wave and knowing smirk that everyone else finds nonthreatening before ushering the children to the cafeteria for their breakfast.

You’re positive you’re not imagining the pale pink coating Daichi’s cheeks.

After explaining the situation, everyone sucks in a collective breath.

Tanaka never sits and always faces a door. From his corner of the room, he glowers at the map.

“Well, fuck,” he neatly summarizes. You nod your appreciation for his conciseness.

“We need to get a hold of meat,” Ukai points out. A something you had missed.

You grab a marker and the portable whiteboard Takeda had grabbed a few weeks ago. In neat characters, you begin documenting everything thrown around the table.

“Raising livestock will be another way to keep the little ones busy.”

“We can’t ask people to shower in cold water during winter, that’s cruel.”

“Tanaka, is there any way to get the heating system up and running by then?”

“What about air conditioning? We have to get through the summer to get to winter, and heat is just as likely to kill us.”

“If other groups realize what we’re doing, we could be in trouble.”

A headache is brewing somewhere behind your temples and you bite back a groan. Kiyoko pushes a cool water bottle into your hand and you know she isn’t fooled for one second.

“I think we’re missing someone here,” Kiyoko points out mildly after what feels like an eternity of circular conversation. All eyes turn to her and she’s unruffled, fingers still wrapped around her mug.

“Kuroo could be a huge help to a lot of this,” she continues. “I’m sure he can help Tanaka and Noya with everything on their list, and we need more able-bodied men on the patrols anyway. He can help us with medicine, our food supply, all of it.”

A furtive glance in Tanaka’s direction is not encouraging. He’s glowering, eyes hooded.

“We barely know him,” Tanaka hisses. You have to privately agree.

“We barely know each other,” Ukai shoots back. “We’ve been here, what, three months?”

“He hasn’t even been on a patrol yet and you want him helping us make important decisions that affect everyone, including the kids?”

“That’s unfair, and you know it, Tanaka,” Takeda says patiently, but somehow reproachfully at the same time. “Kuroo has been in no condition to patrol. The man was emaciated.”

Takeda continues, levying everyone at the table with a stern face.

“We all trust each other now because we took the gamble and brought people in and allowed time to prove it. It was always a risk, and it will always be a risk, but we can’t let that stop us. What we’re doing here is more important than just working together to survive.”

It’s a flowery, nice sentiment, to be expected from a literature teacher, and you barely hold back a snort at Ukai’s warning look.

“None of this matters,” you cut in. “Takeda’s right. And so is Kiyoko. He could be a huge help to you specifically, Tanaka, and he’s getting better every day but we have to give him time before he’s physically ready. You saw him when we brought him in – he was skin and bones.”

Tanaka subsides into grumbling acceptance and you take it as a win.

Daichi returns with Kuroo in tow just minutes later, and if Kuroo is at all confused, he doesn’t show it. He folds himself into a chair, all long limbs and wide feet.

The problems are laid out on the table again. You watch as Kuroo absorbs it, eyes narrowed, flicking sometimes to the map on the wall.

“Frankly, I wish we were in an apartment building,” Tanaka reveals after an hour of debating the best way to acquire livestock.

You sigh, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eyes hard enough to see colors. You know it’s not Tanaka’s fault, that he’s saying out loud something you’d privately thought before. That the electrical systems in apartment buildings would be much easier for him to coax into submission.

But you’re tired. Kiyoko is rubbing the old wound on her shoulder again, Ukai’s fingers are tapping a loud rhythm on the table, and Daichi is watching you lose your mind with that same placid smile in place.

“I wish the apocalypse didn’t happen and we all didn’t have nightmares every damn night, but here we are,” you snap. “I wish we were all cozy in furnished apartments right now, too, and I wish we didn’t have to talk about these things.”

You wish the children didn’t have to hold knives, you wish Suga would stop forcing you to eat, you wish you could forget your mother’s laugh, you wish and wish and wish.

Tanaka’s mouth is open and Daichi is sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. Kuroo’s eyes are expressionless and he just looks like he’s waiting, though for what, you can’t even begin to guess.

You find that you don’t have the energy to regret the words, so you barrel on.

“The apartment buildings are stacked with nightstalkers. It would take weeks to clear even one out, and we would lose people. Guaranteed. We lost one person clearing this prison out and that —”

You’re cut off by a strange choking noise in your throat. The memory of Ennoshita is sweet, cloying, poisonous. Takeda looks pale and strained at the mention of it. His last student.

Your voice is pitched low when you manage to blink away traitorous tears. The sound of your chair scraping is loud and grating against your ears as you stand. They all watch you silently. Waiting.

“Ennoshita is buried here,” you say and the surprise on their faces is almost insulting. “So is Ayasaki’s little girl. We have a life here, one we built and fought for. The kids love it here, it’s as safe as it can get, and it’s isolated from the turf wars in the city. You know why we chose this place, you were part of the vote that decided it, Tanaka.”

Deep breath in. Out.

“I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s necessary, and we’re all up to the task simply because we have to be.”

As far as motivational speeches go, you’re sure this is ranked pretty low. But Daichi straightens and Kuroo’s eyes are gleaming as he stares at you. Kiyoko is almost smiling and you take that into both of your hands and hold on for dear life.

“I have to protect them.”

Everyone in the room opens their mouth at pretty much the same time but Ukai beats them all to the punch with his lazy drawl.

“You’re a moron,” he sneers. “An absolute idiot if you think you’re doing any of this alone. Now run along and get some breakfast before Suga drags you there by your hair.”

~~~

It doesn’t surprise you when Kiyoko finds you later, on the roof, scribbling half-mad ideas into a plain notebook. She always knows where to find you.

“I think you should stay home tomorrow,” she says without preamble. The word home nearly sends you stumbling off the roof.

“Why? Am I dying and I don’t know it?” you ask dryly. The look she levels at you nearly makes your heart stop.

“We agreed to let Kuroo go tomorrow,” she explains, settling into the spot next to you, peering curiously at the notebook in your hand. “But you haven’t been sleeping and we can’t afford to lose you because you’re too tired to stand properly.”

You scowl. Damn the four eyes. Her and Takeda know too much for their own good.

“I’m fine,” you wave a hand dismissively. “I’ll get some rest tonight, promise.”

She let’s the matter go, which is a point for you, but you watch warily as she opens her mouth again.

“Tanaka is looking for you.”

A sigh.

“I should apologize.”

“That’s what he said.”

A laugh, short and barking, escapes you. Kiyoko smiles at the sound.

“We’re all such idiots.”

[tllthesundies]

I mean I have so many requests but I don't want to overwhelm you but maybe a poignant one could be when Harry realises Louis is not going back on tour because he quit?

Harry gets the call while he’s in a black Tesla on their way to the airport.

He hasn’t heard from Louis in several hours, and he hasn’t bothered to spam him with messages or phone calls, fearful that he would be interrupting something important Louis could be doing. He trusts Louis enough that he can leave him alone for many hours without bugging him. But when he sees Rachel’s name flash across the lockscreen of his iPhone, he glances quickly at Liam out of the corner of his eye, who’s in the driver’s seat. Rachel sometimes calls him out of nowhere, just to get updates on how he’s doing, but she never calls this late.

He slides his thumb across the screen to answer, and brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Harry,” she greets, and he listens intently to her tone, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, “how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” he says, curt.

Stilted silence.

“That’s great,” responds Rachel. “Hey, I just wanted to update you on some venue policies. Um–most of the rules have stayed the same; however, it mostly just applies to your crew. I’ve sent everyone e-mails in regards to it.” There’s another pause of stilted silence, but Harry just waits, silent. Rachel’s tone softens. “Listen . . . I have some news you probably won’t like.”

There it is.

“What is it?” Harry asks, impatient.

“Louis called me,” she starts, and it immediately sounds apologetic, “and he put in his resignation.”

Harry stays silent as a rush of red bursts through his nerves in his hands and explodes in his fingertips. “You’re lying,” Harry says, blunt, whilst keeping his voice emotionless. Louis wouldn’t quit. He looks down at the sound of his fingers aggressively tapping part of the door handle. He can feel Liam’s gaze on him, flickering between Harry and the road in front of them. But Harry pays him no mind. Louis wouldn’t just quit without consulting Harry; they’ve grown closer whilst on tour–more than Harry ever imagined they would–more than Harry ever had thought he was ever capable of doing with someone. “Why are you lying to me, Rachel?”

“First of all, shut up. Don’t yell at me.” Harry didn’t realise he raised his voice. “Second, I’m just the messenger.”

“Repeat every word he said to me,” Harry demands.

Rachel sighs. 

“He said, and I quote, ‘Unfortunately, I no longer see myself as Harry’s assistant as my long term commitment anymore, and I’d like my leave to be effective immediately. There are no hard feelings between us; we just have a matter of inconsolable differences.’”

“Inconsolable differences?” 

Harry closes his eyes and flops his head back against the headrest of his car seat, hard.

“H, what’s wrong?” Liam quietly asks.

Harry peeks his eyes open, briefly, to give him a look.

Hold on, he mouths, then asks Rachel, “Can you, please, get a hold of Louis again? I need you to tell him to call me immediately; it’s an emergency.”

He hangs up on her without waiting for a response, and hurriedly finds Louis’s contact in his phone. He’s one of the few people in his phone that has a contact picture. Louis’s leaning back on a picnic bench, observing the setting sun reflecting onto the river water. He’s in a white t-shirt, comfortable joggers, and Finn is by him, sitting on the grass by his feet. Louis had surrounded Finn with berries and various fruits, with grains spread on top, to feed him. Finn hadn’t been interested yet. And Harry had walked in on that when he had come home from a meeting. Harry presses the phone icon and waits for the ringing, but each time he calls Louis, it goes right to fucking voice mail. He must have his phone off, or–something. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he mumbles after the fifth call.

“Harry,” Liam says.

Harry ignores him. 

He brings up their messages and types out, Louis, Rachel called me. Please call me back. 

He throws his phone in his lap, leaning forward and digging the palm of his hands into his eyes.

“Harry.”

Harry pulls his hands away. “He can’t fucking do that,” he tells Liam, looking his way. “He can’t just fucking quit, Liam. Not without talking to me. I didn’t do anything to him.” His voice has turned desperate. “We were getting along so great, I thought. We weren’t bickering. We weren’t at each other’s throats anymore. I was even starting to like his presence. I didn’t ever have to tell him how to do his job, and I didn’t have to worry about my schedule ever colliding with itself, and–and he’s great with Dolly, and–” He cuts himself off, trying extremely hard to fight the water flowing upwards to his waterline, teetering and teasing the edges of his eyes. But his voice is brittle, and he can’t hide that, as embarrassed as he feels about that. His dips his tone into a whisper to mask it. “How could he just leave?”

“Harry,” Liam softly says. Harry knows that tone; like he’s going to try to talk Harry off the edge; like he sees the furious tapping of his fingers against the car door; like he sees Harry’s leg bouncing uncontrollably with unhinged, aggressive emotion. Liam looks at him with controlled patience. “It’s in his contract. He doesn’t have to give you a warning. We gave him the options of quitting. I’m sorry, mate. Those are his legal rights.”

Harry could kill Liam and Rachel both for constructing that contract.

Sucking in a wet, shaky breath, he wipes at his dry face to get himself together and forces his leg to stop shaking, then extends his hand in Liam’s direction.

“Give me your phone,” Harry says.

If Louis’s only ignoring Harry, then he might answer to Liam.

Liam does.