#i guess i may never write something like that

[dlwritings]

November 6, 2024 | Rafe Cameron

masterlist found here

pairing - Rafe x reader word count - 1,827 warnings - political talk, anti-T*ump rhetoric A/N - Who would've thought the shit show state of our world would inspire me to write again. I know for a lot of us everything feels really broken right now, and I know it may seem silly to some, but for me, writing feels like healing, even if it's just something like this. So here you all are. Rafe probably votes red, but here's a world where he doesn't. Also, if you're a T*umper, go ahead and unfollow me. I can't have any of that in my life. I'm so serious.

summary - The results of the 2024 election hit you pretty hard, and you end up taking your rage out on Rafe. Turns out, Rafe's hopes for the future looked a lot like yours.

You and Rafe didn’t talk about politics. You knew better than to broach the topic with him, because you weren’t naive. One glance at him and anyone could guess how he voted.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

The two of you had been dating for about six months, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing. It was gossip fuel for most people on the island for a few weeks -you being a pogue and Rafe being … who he was- but like most drama in Kildaire, it didn’t stay at the forefront of people’s minds for long before another thing came and stole back everyone’s attention.

And the thing on everyone’s mind right now was the election. The election that had you donned in blue on your way to the polls, a huge smile on your face as you filled in the bubble that would make history. Hope filled you in a way you were sure it never had before.

Until the next day.

Waking up and opening social media to see the results had already come in was enough to break your spirit completely. How could this have happened? How could the country have failed so many people?

Then again, how had you been so naive to believe in the possibility of any other outcome?

You shut yourself off from the world for most of the day. You went to work and gave polite smiles and nods to your coworkers as needed, but you did your best to spend the majority of your time locked in your office, alone. You didn’t dare to open social media, knowing every MAGA post from the bigots of the Figure 8 would bring tears to your eyes.

It wasn’t until you were at home on your couch that you decided to brave Instagram. Before scrolling through your feed, you added a black screen with a simple blue heart to your story and wrote the words, When we fight, we win.

You thought it was harmless. A simple story that showed your feelings without being overly dramatic. The last thing you wanted to do was act irrational by doing something crazy like storming the capitol. Because that would just be insane.

Unfortunately, the people who followed you saw it as anything but harmless. They saw it as an opening to send you the most heinous, revolting messages you had ever read. Your notifications blew up within minutes, and some of them were so borderline terrifying that you locked your phone and threw it across the room, once again leaving you in a puddle of tears.

You heard your front door open, and you cursed to yourself. In all the chaos of the news, it escaped your mind that it was Wednesday, and Rafe always brought pizza to your apartment on Wednesdays. You had once mentioned in passing that you liked a pick-me-up halfway through a week, and Rafe took it upon himself to provide you with that. Normally, it was one of your favorite parts of the week. Today, Rafe was one of the last people you wanted to see.

“Babe!” he called out upon his entrance. “I got your favorite!”

You met him in the kitchen, and by one look at your face, Rafe’s own expression dropped. “What’s going on?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. “I think you should go.”

“What?” he said, dropping the pizza on the counter and walking over to you. With each step he took toward you, you took one step back. He stopped quickly, a frown painted on his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

The words made something snap inside you, and your fists clenched at your sides. “What’s wrong?” you repeated. “What’s wrong? How about fucking everything, Rafe! Everything’s wrong, and you not seeing that is part of the problem! You are part of the problem!”

Rafe was, in a word, flabbergasted. He ran through the past 24 hours, trying to think of something he had done wrong, but he was coming up short. “Okay, I’m-” He let out an exasperated laugh. “I’m trying to understand, but you’ve got to give me something more here. What did I do?”

“You-” You let out a huff of a breath and ended up speaking through gritted teeth. “You and your stupid fucking MAGA Kook friends voted for a convicted felon to run our country! You voted for a man who wants to throw away my rights. You voted for a man who has raped a multitude of women and brags about it!”

Rafe’s eyes were wide as he held his hands up and shook his head. “Hang on-”

“No, Rafe!” you shouted, pushing him back as he tried to get closer to you again. “For the entire time we’ve dated, I’ve danced around the talk of politics, because I knew better. I knew a rich ass white guy from the south would vote for another rich ass white guy to run our country, but I guess I naively thought it wouldn’t matter. That the poor guys would get a win for fucking once this time. For once I thought the good guys would win and that a white man would have to face the consequences of his actions. But you-” You laughed bitterly. “You of all people know that privileged ass white men never ever have to face the consequences of their actions.”

You were hitting him where it hurt, and you knew it, but you were hurt. You and every woman like you had been holding in years of pain and hurt, and for you and many others, today was the day it was all going to come out.

“Baby, if you just let me-”

“Let you?” you laughed incredulously. “You and your fellow MAGA guys have clearly shown me I don’t have to let you do anything anymore.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it, and shoved it in his face to show him all of the nasty messages you were receiving. Things like, “Your body, my choice,” “whomp whomp go make me a sandwich,” and “Guess what? Men win again” had flooded your DMs, and while you didn’t know it, Rafe was clocking every username and making a very specific list in his head.

“So maybe you can understand why I’m angry, Rafe,” you said, taking the phone back out of his hand and putting it in your pocket again. “I thought I could cancel out your vote, but I guess I forgot that meant you could cancel mine.”

“Ba-”

“I want you to leave, Rafe.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Fucking, go, Rafe!” you shouted. “Let me be angry and let me be alone!”

With a clenched jaw, Rafe gave a short nod. “Okay,” he whispered. “Fine.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but he refrained, instead turning around and heading out the door, leaving you in a mess of tears.

The next day, you called off from work. Maybe it was dramatic, but you didn’t care. You knew if one person even looked at you in a way you didn’t like, you’d lose any composure you had, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job for yelling at your boss.

You had the full intention to stay in bed all day, but the relentless knock at your door around 10AM proved that to be impossible. You felt some sense of relief, knowing it at least wouldn’t be another political petitioner.

Instead, perhaps just as unfortunately, it was Rafe.

You let out a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He held out his hand which had a coffee cup in it from your favorite shop. “I went to your work, but your boss said you were sick,” he said. “I bought you coffee.” You took it, but didn’t say anything -just looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if to say, Anything else? “Can we please talk?” he said.

“I don’t know what there is to say, Rafe,” you sighed. Still, you stepped aside and let him in, not wanting your neighbors to bear witness to whatever argument was about to ensue. “I know we’re different -I’ve always known that- but I don’t think I can handle being this kind of different anymore.” You plopped yourself onto the sofa, expecting Rafe to sit next to you. Instead, he crouched in front of you so he was just slightly looking up at you.

“Baby, I didn’t vote for him.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock, and you felt tears instantly pool in your eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

“Yeah, of course I didn’t vote for him,” he said. He reached up to turn around the hat he was wearing backwards to reveal a Harris-Walz cap, and you let out a noise that was a mix of a gasp and a little laugh. “I know I’ve fucked up before baby,” he said. “And in other elections, yeah, I usually vote red. But this-” He shook his head and squeezed your knees. “This is different. And I know that. And I’d be an absolute moron to think that tax cuts for me are more important than basic rights for you.”

You moved to kneel on the floor next to him and held his face in your hands before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you kept your forehead against his. “I was so mean to you yesterday,” you whispered. “I didn’t-”

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve,” he said. “I know that I am living in a world that was pretty much tailor made for me. And I know I should be in fucking prison for all the shit I’ve done, and so should he. And I know that none of what I’m saying right now changes the bullshit I’ve done, but I figured I should at least use all this fucking privilege I have and try to help people who don’t have it. Because you-” He paused to press a kiss to your lips. “-have taught me so much about being a good person. And I’m not going to vote against that.”

“I wasn’t a good person yesterday,” you mumbled.

“You were reacting to an unfortunately historic event,” he said. “You had every right to lose it. And you can keep losing it, and I will be by your side for every minute of it, okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”

He smiled back and nodded. “Okay.”

You and Rafe decided to spend the rest of the day together, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in the quiet. When you suggested putting on a movie, Rafe agreed. He let you choose, no complaints, and watched as you searched for the Barbie movie. You cried at all the usual parts, sometimes a bit harder than normal, but Rafe understood.

It is literally impossible to be a woman.

----- ----- ----- -----

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Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[rekino2114]

Cute ways the jjk girls (+ genderbends) use jujutsu in your relationship

A/n:I initially had this ideal with fem!gojo, but then it expanded to other characters. Let me know if you have any ideas for a part 2 or something with other characters

Also I kinda did something similar with fem!inumaki here if you're interested

Fem! Gojo

Lapse blue

Y/n:Hey babe, do you mind grabbing me that glass of water?

Fem!gojo:sure thing sweetie

[She uses blue to make the glass float toward you, but the water splashes on your face]

Y/n:......

Fem!gojo:s-sorry

Infinity

Y/n:Come on, tori, I already told you I'm sorry

[You try to hug her, but infinity stops you]

Y/n:Can you please deactivate your technique?

Fem!gojo:No way! You ate my last mochi. That's basically the same as cheating. I'm not letting you hug me

Y/n:[sighs] I'll buy you some other ones ok? And some more cakes

[Gojo immediately turns off infinity and hugs you]

Fem!gojo:Thanks, y/nnnnn! I knew you loved me

Six eyes

Fem!gojo:Hey y/n, what happened?

Y/n:what do you mean?

Fem!gojo:Your shoulder, it's all hurt and purple

Y/n:.....how did you know? I'm wearing a sweater

Fem!gojo:I have really good eyes remember?

Y/n:oh yeah, I forgot about the six eyes, sorry I got hurt during a mission and just didn't wanna bother you

Fem!gojo:it's never a bother for me, I'll just call shoko and bring you an ice pack

Fem!sukuna

Heian era form

Y/n:Kuna.....is this really necessary?

[It shows you being carried by 2 of sukuna's arms while an other one is stroking your hair]

Fem!sukuna:Of course, are you saying you don't like this?

Y/n:No, I do it's just......why?

Fem!sukuna:uraume said I should try being more affectionate with you. This is how I do it.

Y/n:I guess your arms are pretty comfy

Fem!sukuna:good, I don't want to hear you complain

[She kisses you while you blush harder]

Yuki tsukumo

Star rage

(Tbh I forgot if this is exactly how the technique works)

[You're trying to open a jar, but it's too tight]

Yuki:Do you need some help, baby?

Y/n:Yeah thanks

[You give her the jar, and she opens it without problems]

Yuki:here you go

Y/n:Thanks

Yuki:could I get a kiss for that~?

Y/n:[giggle] sure

[You kiss her cheek, and she smiles brightly]

Yuki[talking to herself] yes! I know using my technique was worth it

Y/n:......what do you mean using your technique?

Yuki:o-oh nothing

Y/n:Wait, did you put mass in the lid so I couldn't open and jar and you'd get a kiss?

Yuki:..........noooooo what are you talking about? Hehe

Y/n:If you wanted a kiss you could have just asked for one you know?

Garuda

Y/n:...........yuki, can you tell your shikigami to stop following me?

Yuki:Why? It's not that bad

Y/n:it wasn't but I think it's taking it a bit too far

[Garuda completely wraps itself around you]

Y/n:see

Yuki:that just means it likes you, just like me

Y/n:....I guess that's nice then, but it's still kinda uncomfortable

Yuki:ok, I'll tell it to stop, we both know you very much prefer my hugs anyway

Yorozu

(I've decided i wanna write for her too, I'll add her to the masterlist now and I chose her instead of mai not only because her creation is better but also just because I kinda like her more)

Creation

Yorozu:y/n! Look what I made for us

[She shows you two rings with your names engraved on them]

Yorozu:it took me a while, but I finally did it! Now we will be bound together even more than we already are

Y/n:Oh thanks, that's so sweet....even if we aren't married yet

Yorozu: Those are just details. What's wrong with thinking ahead

Y/n:hehe, alright

[You start to take the ring with your name on it but she stops you]

Yorozu:Oh no, darling, you'll be wearing the one with my name so that everyone knows you're mine, and I'll wear the other one so that everyone knows I'm yours

Y/n:Oh, that's....sweet

Yorozu:I'm glad you think that, I can't have anyone thinking my darling is free to take, here I'll even put it on you myself

Fem!megumi

Ten shadows:divine dogs (and mahoraga)

Y/n:Please, gumi, I swear I won't ask you anything else ever

Fem!megumi:[sighs] you're really like I love you.....alright

[She does the hand sign and summons the dogs]

Fem!megumi:Go smell y/n and find their hoodie

[The shikigami do what she said and start searching for it]

Y/n:Thanks, you're a lifesaver megumi

Fem!megumi:you're welcome just don't get used to it

[The dogs eventually find the hoodie and give it to you]

Y/n:Oh, thanks so much to you two too. You're such good boys

[You start petting them while megumi gets closer to you]

Fem!megumi:wait minute.....that hoodie isn't it nobara's? Why does it have your smell on it

Y/n:oh no I can explain she just gave-

Fem!megumi:I don't need any explanation. With this treasure I summon

Y/n:wait no stop it!

Fem!geto

Cursed spirit manipulation

Gojo:Hey, geto, what are you waiting for? We're gonna be late for the mission

Fem!geto:don't be so impatient satoru, I'm just waiting for y/n

Gojo:Come on! Your partner can wait, I just wanna get this over with

Fem!geto:if they don't come, I'm not going either

Gojo:fiiiine, you're the only thing that makes missions interesting anyway

[After waiting for a bit geto looks at the sky]

Fem!geto:oh looks like they arrived

Gojo:hm?

[They look up to see you riding rainbow dragon]

Gojo:You made them ride on your curse?

Fem!geto:they were gonna be late and asked me

Gojo:that's so cool you have to make me ride on it too sometimes

Fem!geto:[sighs] I suppose one time is ok

[distant-velleity]

“What I want isn't simple enough for one wish... Please, share it with someone who needs it more.”

Yuhua Wei - "Fairytale Attire"

event: Fairytale Soiree ( @angelwishess )

LMAO okay sO- i may or may not have my priorities TOTALLY out of whack; a fully shaded drawing like this is way more effort than just. a card; but i had a vision that had to be realized

um i don't really know what his rarity would be since this isn't a card submission, just art i felt like making -- it's up to viewer imagination/hope, i guess? LMAO

(design thoughts and other rambles under the cut)

~

so i need to conserve energy instead of writing voicelines but

OKOKOK. design notes. yuhua has always been more or less twisted from the tales of ye xian/cinderella, but all of his existing outfits related to that are heavier on the ye xian elements-- so i took inspiration from cinderella this time!

... it just... kinda got lost along the way as i kept changing the design... NKSDFKSJHFKSHFKSF

but it's there! kind of! and he would have these almost glass-looking shoes too (perfectly walkable I PROMISE ���� HE WILL NOT LOSE THEM TRUST)

if i had the opportunity i would have also emphasized the clock pattern in his eyes 😭that's the biggest giveaway of his relevant fairytale regardless of this event but ... oh well LMAO

...

should i stop putting yuhua in big social events when he's an introvert with a low social battery? 100% HAHAHAHA but i will never stop. i love putting him in these pretty outfits. this might be the first time i've drawn him in a dress outside of A Specific Circumstance and it's really cute so we ball (i was also getting tired of drawing suits for EVERY SINGLE EVENT but yk lolll)

also, does he want that wish? maybe, but i think more than anything, he knows what he wants is something emotional/mental, some kind of validation he can only seek and obtain himself... and so he'd rather the wish not be wasted on him hahaha. that’s basically what he means (and also bc he feels too selfish if he tries to go for the wish but you knowwwww :) )

if you read this far, thank you for bearing with me <333

-

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@sillyslipperybananapeel @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@taruruchi

[t1oui]

thinking about how living w regulus would affect harry like

he's such a fucking snob about everything. food, decor, fashion, you name it, he's got opinions on it.

he does ballet despite being the least graceful person on the planet. he's somehow pretty good at it, likely out of spite

speaks french

very much a cat person, has a cat named leo who is his baby

like yk how james and sirius are extremely codependent? that's how harry is w leo. both of them can not handle being apart from each other too long

reads a lot of stories

thinks seeker is the best quidditch position

on that note, lots of slytherin house pride. james hates it. harry refuses to put any gryffindor decorations up in his room

harry loves taking pictures just like reg so the house is filled with photographs

and ofc harry is snobby about what types of cameras he uses thanks to reg. james now just lets them deal with the cameras & photography stuff bc he's scared to get the wrong thing lol

harry is taller than reg but bc dysphoria all of reg's old clothes (like quidditch jerseys + hoodies and stuff) are his size so half his wardrobe is from reg's hogwarts days

definitely the type of guy to change his bedding & curtains & everything in his room based on the season. will anybody actually be in there other than him and his parents? not really, but he MUST redecorate

idk what this even means but snobby about candles. this is another thing james is scared to buy him

harry and reg speak french w each other more than english

since james doesn't speak french w harry (i hc he's only comfortable speaking it w reg) harry is used to having a conversation in two different languages so sometimes he'll be speaking french w his friends without noticing

he'll be in the middle of a rant and realize they don't understand a thing he's saying lol

reg and harry control the decorating for every holiday, every birthday, etc.

the one thing harry knows how to do that reg doesn't/reg didn't teach him is cooking. reg never cooked for himself as a child so james was the one who taught him

doesn't look like it most of the time but all of harry's clothes are very expensive... did i mention he's a snob

harry is such a dry texter/writer... he's such a dick about grammar when it comes to writing even tho he can barely string a sentence together when speaking

deeply sarcastic (look! a canon detail! we never thought we'd see that on this account, did we?)

will take his partners on the most expensive dates & whatnot like it's nothing... cedric the farmboy™️ is not prepared

writes sad boy poetry when he gets annoyed w someone... like harry will storm off all pissed and then he comes back 20 mins later with a beautifully written, very angry poem for whoever made him mad

has so many clothes & different curtains and bedding sets for different seasons that he also uses the closet in the guest room (reg takes up 99% of his and james's closet for the same reason)

has an inherent hatred of fake plants

bedroom is simultaneously tidy and so messy a hurricane might as well have come through

leaves a book behind everywhere he goes

secretly the worst sense of humor lmao

he may not have gotten his love of drawing/painting from regulus, but you def see reg in the way he is, you guessed it, a massive snob about art supplies

soooo indecisive. redoes his room at least twice a year

an asshole when he gets less than 10 hours of sleep... he's mildly tolerable after 3 cups of coffee (black, of course) but you might as well just ignore him until he gets a nap in

on that note is very good at making coffee and is, drum roll please, a massive snob about it. who would've guessed (somebody count how many times i've said snob in this post and comment it please and thank you)

if he doesn't like a gift he's horrible at pretending he's happy w it so people usually go through reg whenever they buy him something... this goes both ways too, people go through harry when buying something for reg

is visually james and lily's but in personality is really just reg's (and also lily's... he definitely inherited his spite from her lol)

is a crazy cat lady by age 20

at least 10 pictures of leo in his room... he has whole photoshoots for her and she poses for them

might as well not hang out w harry at his house bc he'll make out with his cat the whole time

loves going to art museums w regulus

he's a, surprise surprise, snob about art. james just doesn't comment on art altogether atp

his vocabulary is a weird mashup of french, english, and hindi that makes it very hard for anybody who doesn't know him well to understand what he's saying lol

looks angry until he smiles (he got this from lily but a life with reg has perfected it)

needs a golden retriever to his black cat in any given relationship (enter cedric and cho) (yes i'm going to push my rarepair on everyone reading this)

tl;dr being raised by/living w regulus has turned harry into a massive snob about literally everything and regulus is proud of it (blink twice if you need help, james)

[blackenedsnow]

thin as air

WARNING: Mentions of anorexia and body dysmorphia, violence, injury, unhealthy relationships, dark themes, rough handling, unhealthy attachment.

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Anorexic! Reader

NOTE: Hey, just sharing this because i know a lot of us are going through it too. It’s very scary. I’m in a rough spot myself so i wanted to write something that might feel like a weird kind of comfort, even if it’s dark and messy. Remember, it’s fiction; take care of yourself. Love you all, take what you need <3 (Also this is in first person.)

SUMMARY: Art’s affection is all-consuming, and you don’t quite understand why you’re the object of his twisted love. There is NOTHING sexual even if it may sound like it!!

Sometimes, I wonder if Art even knows what I am – this mess of bones, thin skin, hollow eyes. I see the way he looks at me, with that dead, unwavering gaze of his. The way his black-rimmed eyes flicker over my body, taking in every protruding rib, every visible vein. It’s like he’s fascinated by me, by this shell of a person I’ve become.

And honestly? I’m just as fascinated by him.

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why it happened. I don’t even know if Art knows why he’s here with me, this painted monster, this creature who has taken me as his own. He’s rough, always has been – he’s broken one of my bones before. My wrist, I think it was, his grip too tight in one of his fits of… whatever it is he feels. Love, rage, lust? I don’t know. I don’t think Art knows either. But he’s always there, his hands wandering over me like he can’t get enough, even as he’s hurting me.

It’s like he’s drawn to my fragility.

I guess that’s the irony. I’m so close to death already, bones so thin you could snap them with a careless touch, a body starved down to the barest scraps. Sometimes I think that’s what he’s here for – to watch me die slowly, to revel in the sight of me wasting away. I wonder if that’s the appeal, the reason he never leaves.

But then he’ll reach out, his hand cupping my cheek with a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of. And I realize – no. That’s not it at all. He’s here because he loves me. Art loves me.

It doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to. Not to him, not to me.

I think he likes the sharp edges of my bones, the way my body feels fragile beneath his hands. There’s something about the way he touches me, careful sometimes, rough others, like he’s afraid I’ll break if he’s not careful – but sometimes he forgets. Sometimes he’ll grip me too tight, his fingers pressing into my skin with enough force to leave bruises, marks that will linger for days.

Once, when he’d been particularly careless, I felt something crack beneath his fingers. The pain had been sharp, sudden, and I’d cried out, my voice weak, but he’d just stared, his head tilting to the side as if he were studying a work of art. And maybe, to him, I am. A fragile, breakable thing, something he can hold in his hands and twist, bend to his will.

But he’d stopped then, his hands falling away, his eyes wide with something like surprise. He hadn’t meant to hurt me.

The thing is, I love him too. Maybe that’s the sickest part of it all, the fact that I look at him, at this monster who kills without remorse, who breaks me without meaning to, and I feel something like warmth in my chest. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel this way, why I keep letting him touch me, hold me, break me.

Maybe it’s because he sees me. In his own strange way, Art sees me. He sees the parts of me that I try to hide, the emptiness that gnaws at me from the inside, the hunger that never seems to go away. He sees the hollowness in my eyes, the way I wither away piece by piece, and he doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t tell me to stop, doesn’t tell me I need to eat, to get better.

He just… stays.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. But in a way, it’s comforting. Because in his silence, in his wordless presence, I find a strange sense of belonging. I find a twisted kind of love, the kind that doesn’t judge, that doesn’t demand anything of me except to exist. To be here, with him, in whatever form I am.

And maybe that’s enough.

Sometimes, when he’s lying beside me, his hand resting on my hip, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid to press down too hard, I’ll close my eyes and pretend that he’s human. That he’s just a man, lying beside me, his warmth seeping into my skin. But then I’ll feel his fingers tighten, his grip growing possessive, and I’m reminded of what he is – a killer, a creature who takes lives without a second thought.

But he doesn’t take mine.

No matter how close I get, no matter how many times I think this is it, that I’ll finally slip away, he’s always there. Sometimes I wonder if he’d let me die if I truly wanted to, if he’d just sit back and watch as I faded into nothing. But I think he’d fight for me. I think he’d drag me back, kicking and screaming, because he loves me.

I feel his hands on me again, his touch rough and insistent, and I can feel the bruises blooming beneath his fingers, but I don’t mind. I welcome the pain, the reminder that I’m still here, still alive. And in that moment, with his body pressed against mine, I don’t feel empty. I feel full, filled with something dark and consuming, something that threatens to swallow me whole.

And maybe that’s the real reason he’s here – not to watch me die, but to keep me alive.

The days blend together when he’s gone. Time’s got this funny way of stretching and folding over on itself in his absence, like the hours are conspiring to keep me waiting. I lose track of them – they bleed together in a mess of dark corners and quiet. Every so often, I glance over at the door, waiting for him to appear in that grimy frame, caked in blood and staring with that quiet, maddening intensity. But every time, there’s just silence. And the longer he’s gone, the more I start to wonder if maybe this is it.

If maybe, he’s not coming back.

I tell myself that’s probably a good thing. That maybe he’s off killing for good this time, slipping into someone else’s nightmare. And yet, there’s this ache that gnaws at me, dull and hollow, a feeling like missing something I never thought I’d have. Because even as he breaks me, even as he holds me with a grip that threatens to splinter bone, Art feels like the only real thing in my life. The only solid, terrifying constant.

So when the door finally creaks open, it feels like time itself stops – or maybe, like it finally begins to move again.

He steps inside, dragging a heavy, metallic scent of blood with him, his face painted in his usual grin but with something else lurking beneath. Something dark, simmering – anger. But it’s not at me; I know that look. And on his head, absurdly, he’s wearing a Santa hat, the red fluff soaked a deep maroon where it caught a spatter of blood.

I almost laugh. He looks unhinged and festive all at once, as if he’s ripped the hat off some poor soul in the middle of one of his routines. Art stands there, his eyes narrowing as they settle on me, like he’s deciding something. But even angry, even with whatever it is simmering beneath the surface, I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose.

He prowls toward me, closing the distance in a way that has my heart stumbling over itself, and I’m caught between fear and comfort. I sit up, my mouth dry as I watch him approach, swallowing hard against the question that’s been burning in me since he left.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come back.” My voice cracks, barely more than a whisper.

He stops, staring down at me, his mouth stretching wider into that unsettling smile. Art doesn’t talk, but his eyes – there’s something fierce and sharp in them, a promise I can feel. He tilts his head, raising one finger, wagging it back and forth like he’s scolding me for even thinking it. Like the very idea of him leaving for good is ridiculous.

And maybe it is. Maybe Art’s always going to come back, no matter how many people he kills or how far he roams.

I’m still staring at that absurd hat, unable to help myself. “…Did you kill Santa?”

He gives a low, soundless laugh, his shoulders shaking as he reaches up and tips the hat toward me, his face stretching wider in a mockery of something playful. It’s disturbing and almost sweet all at once, like a monster trying to be human. He’s close now, and I can feel the roughness of his gloved hand as he brushes it over my cheek, trailing down to the sharp line of my jaw. His touch is careful, just enough pressure to remind me he’s here – and that I’m his.

“What?” I say, my voice shaky but edged with a faint smile. “You bring me a Christmas hat instead of a present?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he lifts his hand, holding it up as if to say ‘wait.’ Then he reaches behind him, pulling something from the garbage bag he always carries around. It’s a small, battered box, dented and stained but unmistakably a gift.

I look at him, surprised, and he just grins wider, holding it out. My hands shake as I take it, heart pounding as I pry the lid open. Inside is… a ring. Old and tarnished, probably pried off a victim. But it’s beautiful.

He watches as I slide it on, something warm flickering in his eyes – if anything warm could ever live in those black pits. There’s no need for words. His gaze says it all, a silent declaration that I’m his and he’s mine, even if it makes no sense, even if it’s a nightmare stitched together by blood and broken bones.

The absurdity of it hits me, and I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in ages. “Guess this makes it official, huh?”

Art raises one hand in a mock toast, his grin impossibly wide, and for a second, the air between us feels almost… normal. Like we’re two people who understand each other in a way no one else could.

[supercalime]

A goodbye post I guess?

Hey yall, i wanted to write something about all of this as this may be the last time I talk about this show. Apologies in advance, this will be long and all over the place cause im using this little essay to get it off my chest and help me calm down my anxiety. Strap in, this will be a doozy.

First off, no matter how sad and disappointed we are, let’s please not stoop down to the level of those fans when it comes to voicing our issues with this situation. Please, let’s not harass, call people names, send them threats, etc. we can voice our opinions in an adult way, and although it fucking hurts and it makes us want to shout from the rooftops and call Murphy, Minear and Stark every name in the sun, we need to be grown ups and come out on top of it.

That being said, I want to first acknowledge how fun and cool yall are. We endured A LOT of shit since april and all that bullshit didn’t stop you from keeping the positivity going. I applaud you all for that. It has been hard. I came in contact and became friends with some really nice people here and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I loved being a part of this fandom and it physically hurts me that this feels like it was all for nothing.

Even though I feel like a fool as well, I hate to see how you are all so sad with this. This wasn’t our fault. We were not naive for believing that this storyline could’ve been great. Don’t blame yourself for being taken advantage of. Because that’s what they did. They saw the opportunity to profit from a community and took it. They are the ones in the wrong. They used us for brownie points and then tossed us away like trash the second they got what they wanted. It’s on them.

What I’m about to say now will sound hypocritical as I’m writing this at 2am while trying to cope with an anxiety attack caused by this very show, but what we can take away from this is that unfortunately, we can’t rely on tv shows for happiness. Yes, that’s a bitter pill to swallow, specially in this political climate as we were hoping for some sort of escape from the horrors of the elections. What i took away from this is that I need to (for lack of a better word) touch grass. I need hobbies, I need friends. All things that I’ve been lacking because fandom stuff is easier. I need to find stuff that makes me happy that doesn’t depend on outside factors. But also I want to make sure that if a show is all you have, that’s okay and is even more okay to feel betrayed. I was an absolute mess a few years ago when a show I adored stabbed their fans in the back, but it gets better. You still get angry remembering you were done dirty but I promise that the memories that stick are the positive ones.

I don’t wanna go on a deleting spree but I also don’t want to be reminded of this hurtful moment as the wound is still fresh, so I’m deciding to reevaluate some things offline, like I did with previous fandoms, and come back when I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll leave tumblr or never watch/talk about 911 again but I need some time and space from it so I can feel better. I don’t want to doom scroll through the tags like I did tonight. What Ryan Murphy, Tim Minear and Oliver Stark did to us was awful, but the best thing I can do is not let these three men influence my mental health. I won’t let a tv show ruin me because it’s not my fault. It’s not our fault to believe that there were half decent people in the entertainment industry that cares about the portrayal of queer individuals. They will have to sleep at night with that knowledge and deal with the consequences from the BoBs. And if these guys decide to humor the BoBs that’s their funeral. It would further show they never cared about representation and just wanted to save face after making so many people miserable for simply enjoying a canon ship. I hope they can see the consequences because I’m not even the target here. I’m hurt for all the queer men that saw themselves in buck and tommy, that even messaged the actors thanking them for their honest portrayal.

In conclusion, here’s my goodbye (for now).

Thank you so much bucktommy nation!

Yall are the best,

Love, Lety 🖤

[seiwas]

for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3

hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee

hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶

contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)

iwaizumi + assistance

this is a set-up.

iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.

the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.

he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.

except for one tiny problem.

there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.

and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.

this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.

he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.

it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).

so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.

"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."

he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.

"okay."

if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.

(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)

you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.

"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.

"sorry again," he turns to face you.

"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.

getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.

stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.

but then the zipper breaks.

and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.

iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.

then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"

iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.

fuck.

.

it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.

"you finally got together?!"

[roboyomo]

hey. pspsps. for whenever u need it. hands u a Talk About Yuor Beasts ticket for azrael and kenix. disappears into my shrub again. woe

HELLOOOO HAI. I FINALLY WROTE THIS HOLY SHIT. just to prepare you people, this thing is going to get LONG. EXTRA LONG COMPARED TO MY USUAL OC RANTPOSTS. 57 paragraphs and about ~7000 words. Yeag ^_^ read at your own risk and if you have a Lot Of Free Time Alrightsies? And also if you want to hear about fucked up and doomed little queer guys! I had tried to cover everything about azranix in here so let's goooo !!!

okay so first of all i will Definitely be reusing some of the old info i have already said about them before because Yeag ^_^ it is definitely needed for context for all the other people that have been following my blog and never read my previous rant posts. And those who just Never Saw Said Oc Posts dhehdsh just so this all would make some sense

and God. i've had kenix and azrael for abouttttt 2+ years by now i think ? ? and their story have changed a lot but GOD they still have such a grip on my soul.,,, cannot think about them without being Plagued very intensely and extremely and severely. they were this one Thing but then their dynamic and relationship evolved and so did they as people and it makes me So Sick of them soemtimes i swearrrr.. . .

so to start off! yeah the already known thing is that they're part of the seven deadly sins order of characters but to make it easier i'll just call them either sins crew or seven sinners. For my own Convenience. The concept of the sins crew is that they are mirroring the main original timeline cast. While the main cast is blessed by the divine in the name of keeping peace of their perspective duties. the sins crew Unfortunately did not get such treatment. To be part of the sins crew is to be abandoned by the gods above Basically. which is exactly their fate! they have curses and not blessings and. to make it short that's just how they have been punished for even having desires! Quite Unfair,, , ,

each of them have their own perspective sins and here, azrael and kenix have envy and lust as their assigned sins respectively. each of their actions that lead to this point are represented by said sins ofcourse but in their own ways (so No not That kind of lust for kenix i know please do not) i think i have explained all the needed context before i get to both of them on their own and then together ^_^ firstly i'll explain azrael because Yeag.

azrael is kind of. Complicated to say the least. a living weapon of some sorts! grown up in a hostile environment where the sole goal was To Win. there was little importance in personal happiness because it was all either to kill or to be killed. and he just grew tired of it yk? his hands only knew the warmth of blood and not the warmth of an another person. A dull and terrified view on life. He could only yearn to know how it is like to live normally without having to worry about being someone's next target.

and then there was someome who knew such happiness. a nameless girl, so full of life. just like him, she had no name from birth. Only a serial number. But yet. She was someone that had no worries like he did. Someone who Had So Much. stood right next to azrael. It felt unreal. Like a dream! A false scenario because surely! Surely that kind of bliss wasn't possible in his world! and yet. Yet. someone knew that feeling that he wished to knew the warmth of himself. Was right in front of his eyes. But he also was envious of her to some degree deep down. envious that she had what he yearned for his entire life while working with these bunch of assassin-esque people. but also!

it is very very safe to say that she meant Everything to him. Like how could she not? her attitude changed his worldview on such a fundamental level that azrael was. Fully convinced that he wouldn't be able to exist without the bright colors she intergrated into his life. spending all of his time with her. her happiness and optimisim was everything he needed. It (the whole relationship) wasn't even exactly anything to Her. like both of them very much saw each other as friends! but azrael meant something different by friends Me Thinks,, , , more like a person that he committed himself to.

"oh you are my friend and i am yours? okay then you have my devotion now. We are Friends and More Than Friends at the same time now :)" like they had something Very Intense and at the same time so one-sided. which is Unfortunate for azrael because! Wow my dude you trusted someone So Much you have let your guard down! Bad Choice my guy! because now it wasn't azrael who was the target. It was her. the nameless has been seen with him so many times that she was in danger because of him. and since he has let his guard down it led to. You know. Her death eventually happening.

the loss of the nameless girl not only broke azrael but changed his worldview once again. Because now he wasn't just apathetic to the entire world around him like he used to be before she appeared in his life, but he despised everything about the world. he was so jealous because now seemingly everyone had everything he had ever wanted! that source of happiness! something he had just mere moments ago! the warmth of blood on his hands coming back to haunt him!

It felt nauseating to see others have that joy. and in a series of overthinking it all, he came to the conclusion that. The others surrounding him have decided to keep happiness a secret from azrael. they were all on it. They knew what they were doing when she died. it is like they have purposefully taken the girl whom meant the world to azrael away from him! but of course how could he not see the truth that was displayed in front of his him this whole time!

coming to that conclusion utterly broke everything azrael knew and built it all anew. His envy was ever so clear to see. he knew that the people surrounding him wanted him to keep being envious of their joy. And so he just decided to ruin it all for them! after all. how come they get to have such happy moments while he has to be left behind in the dark, destroying his youth away for this constant cycle of death to keep going in circles on and on? it felt so utterly unfair to him. There was no use to continue doing what he always did when there wasn't a reason to keep doing it from the start besides living. and how could he live now without the person he treasured by his side?

in the end, his envy of others spiraled into a huge breakdown and caused him to go on a rampage. there were no exact names as his targets, only what his heart and shattered mind told him was the target. and that whole ordeal lead to quite a lot of deaths. ranging from people who at least were azrael's enemies from the past to some degree to innocent bystanders of the world who didn't know that azrael even existed

he found weird comfort in their deaths. Like "wow. i have finally gave in and destroyed what only worsened my misery and envy.. .," he kind of just, , did not feel sorry at all for the murders. even relishing in them in a ?. ? Way. but it all came back to stab him in the back. And Quite Literally too! that is what lead to his death and now his current state. being cursed and with the sin of envy being forever carved into him as a person, his jealously turned into pure venom. like Actually. he has venom running through his body, created from the purest desire for happiness. A man now destined to roam afterlife, forever seen as the pure embodiment of Consequences

so spiteful. so hateful at his very core. although he may be hiding it, but the Venom is present and is very obvious when you look closer into it! his only way to deal with this is to be distant from people. there is no reason to be conversing with the beings that once saw him as such a lowly being. azrael's way of thinking this through is just. Very confusing to say the least. he acted upon his desires but tries to rationalize them at the same time. trying to show that he doesn't care. No he doesn't care. . at least he is convinced so but Truly it is just ?.?? it is clampicated to describe for him. Or something

and now about kenix. Oh god This Dude Man. kenix is Incredibly Fuckjng Complicated as a person man. To start off, i will refer to him as his real name (Yi Dal) sometimes alright? kenix is Very Much a very deeply troubled guy that just represses such feelings. ever since he was born, he was in the dark. Metaphorically and kind of Literally?. since he was a child, he had the whole thing between him and his parents and just His family in general. which was Just Good Fucking Lord how much Inferior he felt to them. he was mostly, if not all the time, reduced to a "servant" for the family. which really contributed to him trying to seek value in himself through being useful to his family

obeying all the orders from his family? No questions asked, although it may hurt, he will at least get some attention. No matter positive or negative. he really just. didn't have a say in anything. for both of the parties, it is all just listening to what he is told to do. And his parents and siblings made that decision consciously. there was never any reason for him being neglected. not that kenix even knows of one! but it was like he was destined to be unacknowledged by them.

kenix was scared to take up space, because what if they find something to be angry about? Something to scold him for? Something to hit him for once again? he may be seeking attention but not in the form of being yelled at or having objects thrown at him. such treatment is still terrifying to him to this very day, a haunting memory at best. He genuinely felt like a little tiny being not deserving of attention with how obvious it was that his siblings were favored far more than him.his parents' treatment towards him made him think that he doesn't have the right to exist in this place without value or a purpose.

the neglect coming from his parents, the humiliation from his siblings. the embarrassment of being treated like a stranger whenever the family was in public. all of those factors reinforcing the idea that kenix is nothing of importance or relevance into his consciousness. kenix really just wanted to be free damnit.he yearned for it, he prayed for such salvation to come save him on a random day of his life but there was. No response as expected. he had never properly felt the warmth of the sun and freedom, only the cold air in his room at night. feels kind of suffocating in here, doesn't it? such a sheltered view on the world. It really is No wonder that kenix wished to escape this place. lacking social interaction and awareness of the outside world, , A shame, really

yi dal had been planning his escape from this god forsaken household for so So long, and he has finally been able to execute it when he was still a teen, about 17 years of age. An opportunity so perfect it truly felt unreal to him. An opportunity to finally feel the fresh air for himself forever and ever? you mean it you mean it you really mean it ?? <- deep down he was so Hopeful man. Man. the first time he was outside in nature by himself?? oh yeag. Yeag that felt like heaven that he himself couldn't believe in. feeling the grass beneath him, the light wind in his face, the chirping of the birds sitting on the trees. what else could he have possibly been missing out on? neither kenix or i know how he has survived about 16 years alone as a 17 years old guy with no social skills or concept of how the world really worked. he did make a fool out of himself but. He got the hang of it! Kind of! Normal social life was hard to get used to but!! ^_^

it truly was impossible for him to predict that at the age of 33, he would be found by his siblings and eventually tracked down, oblivious to what was planned for him. poor poor yi dal. only barely made to his early 30s and yet There It Is. Him laying on the floor, completely devoid of his ability to move his body. a small puddle of blood. Was it his blood? Was the blood of his brother he had manage to stab before being paralyzed? no reason to ponder that now, for he could only watch what was about to happen to him and. That was The Most amount of fear he had ever ever felt in his life. nothing could come close to how he felt when he saw his sister holding something in her hands, his brother following behind her. there were so so many things they could do. and it scared him on such a deep level that he didn't even know existed.

there he is now, a dead man walking and roaming the afterlife. the difference between him and azrael is that kenix acted upon his deepest desire only after he had been killed. the desire to avenge himself. to feel what it was like for his family. to be one of the higher-ups. To finally feel Superior. lusting for power in a way that breaks his morals (hence why this guy is assigned lust as his sin). a desire so strong it basically just Breaks Him Completely. In a way that leaves him so vulnerable that just. Makes him so easy to take advantage of. Disturbingly Too Easy. And that is exactly what fucking happens!!

"prometheus", or well, ephai is at fault here for that. no longer having a physical form, they saw a vessel so perfect in what was left of kenix. A soul that has been shattered into pieces since the start. Kind of. He needed just a little bit of a kick to fall over the edge and never come back to what he was. And they have seen it as an opportunity to prove the existence salvation to kenix. You Know. The guy that even fully gave up on religion and "salvation". And it worked of course it worked on kenix that Little Hopeless Thing— yeag. I could go on and on about kenix and prometheus but this is about azrael and kenix not these two's toxic relationship

prometheus is the key to kenix achieving his goals and in a moment of desperation. When he was offered a chance to avenge himself. To strike back at the people who degraded him the most. To feel in power. He didn't even hesitate to agree to the offer which lead to a little "contract" of some sort happening between them and that's just how kenix has been cursed. kind of like being oblivious to the fact that the salvation he was promised was a punishment in disguise. but it's not like he cares now.. . he has stolen fragments of powers from all kinds of divine beings, all for the sake of fulfilling his own wishes. trading his sanity for power. to the point of almost worshipping the one who has given him this opportunity and making ephai to be a divine entity

kenix himself though, is now more than just a god-like being. he is the flow of time himself. But Uh Oh! Bad News Motherfucker! You are Not Alone in this! because to keep existing like this, he had to take the body of an alternate timeline version of himself. Which just so happened to be the Yi Dal from the main cast's timeline. Who was already part of the main cast. And so essentially while taking over Ken's body, he had to replace him altogether unless they switch hosts. which kenix forbid to do because Good God he doesn't want ken to have anything Really. reasons that i'll get to later because Yeag ^_^ another problem is that prometheus is Also There with them. a third wheel or something so no you got 3 whole separate people in a singular body

so now kenix got himself stuck in a situation where he has to keep up a kind of play. Not pretending to be the version of himself he has replaced per se, but to always appear calm, continue to be soft-spoken and amicable with a formal attitude. because such etiquette and manners are what have enforced into his subconsciousness by his family while he was still living in that household. The manners that have been engraved into his mind by his own will. The facade of not caring about his surroundings. He destroyed his chances to live normally for the sake of his desire. so now kenix just has to pretend that everything is fine when really. Really. he never felt like a person, let alone an indepedent one. it is always him being the shadow of someone else and not seen as someone of his own. previously being the shadow of his siblings and now to be the shadow of ken because. Kenix is not perceived as his own self. Not that he has an identity really! But we will Also get to that later ^>^

now to finally talk about azranix together. their relationship had a pretty Rough start i'd say. Like it wasn't bad! But with azrael's decision to purposefully distance himself from others.., it was Hard for kenix to get closer to him without exactly going against his boundaries. Yes, he did pay attention to when he was getting far too close for azrael's comfort. for what reason did kenix even try to get closer to azrael? Well You See ^_^ he just wants to playfully mess with someone! No other reason! Just innocent little teasing that's all! but both of them have started to note. A lot of things about each other. with azrael's distrust, he was very wary of everything single move coming from kenix. And kenix well just. Tried to notice all the details there are about the person he pursued to know. pure curiosity if you could say that. to azrael there was always Something that was off about kenix and to kenix there was always Something about azrael that peaked his interest.

at the start with how used azrael was with seeing people as some sort of assholes trying to ridicule him, he looked at kenix with a bit of disdain. What if he was also one of such people? Why would he try to seek azrael out of all people? There is that sense of cautiousness that haunted him and his actions. and kenix ultimately decided to become a non-threat in azrael's eyes. otherwise how could he get such an interesting and peculiar person to trust him? to lose on such a great opportunity? no! he had to do it. He Had To. (no no it's not for any particular reason you see, it is just. .)

with every single encounter they have had, azrael just kind of like. Questioned everything about this guy! What Is His Problem! Why Is He Trying To Pry On Me! and so on. and with enough amount of times of them meeting each other in various places, azrael just went "fuck it, i'll try to get the answers to my questions straight from him" and such thinking led him to the Confrontation part. with his frustration present, he really just could not wrap his head around the fact that someone wants to know more about Him. that someone would even find Him interesting. he is trying so hard to avoid such relationships for the sake of himself and. Others to some degree. That an idea that someone once again would want to be a companion to him is just a Bizarre Concept. and kenix answered his questions, albeit not exactly. only a smile and "Wouldn't you want a friend yourself, in this place?"

which is exactly what was needed to crack azrael's front, even just a tiny bit. perhaps kenix was right. this place was Lonely. So Incredibly Lonely. maybe even reminiscent of azrael's past. and that made him realize just how much worse the situation was. to finally be aware of he had to stay here like this for hundreds of years, if not thousands. If not for all eternity. Destined to slowly disappear into thin air. with a few other people who are just like you by your side. a reminder that everything that could've saved you has Abandoned You. Even the divine above have abandoned you. A reminder that there is no one. And nothing. that is coming to save them. He is Alone. And Will Be Alone. his decision to distance from his only source of human interaction has always been a self-fulfilling prophecy of him swallowing his own venom. denying himself everything out of envy and hatred that is wallowing inside him. like a serpent on his shoulder. azrael is just a self-fulfilling prophecy of self-destructive at times that it is like Hey Dude. Please Don't Continue To Do That.

realizing just how fucked up everything in this situation is possibly may have made him just a tinyyy bit Desperate. more willing to finally open up to others a little. more accepting of letting people into his life. It is so fascinating that a single question from kenix is what managed to change his mind. azrael letting his guard down after so long! truly a miracle that we Cannot tell the aftermath of. and thus azrael has started to seek kenix out on purpose while still noting more things about him. Trying to figure him out like what kenix has been doing this whole time, you know? if kenix gets to pry on his life, then azrael might as well just do the same

it was a slow, slow way of actually getting to know each other at a deeper level because kenix. Like always. has tried to keep his past and his general life a secret. A mystery of some sorts. he wasn't really an enigma, azrael just. Never could figure out things about his family, his past life and what else has brought him here like the rest of the sinners. there were always moments about his story that he always left out on purpose. he never went into detailing anything he explained about himself. giving azrael only (mostly) surface level bits of information about himself. and azrael well, did much the same because he still felt that kenix shouldn't be trusted fully.

despite all that, azrael and kenix did manage to start bonding more! they both learned more about each other's story and felt. Sympathy for each other's struggles. as well as bonding over facing the same Horrors™ each day and they just had to learn to get through it together. To survive the troubles with each other by their side. learning more about each other through such dangerous encounters with the unknown things unable to be communicated with. having to find comfort in each other's presence if you understand what i'm trying to convey here. which then evolves into far more intimate moments being shared between them both where one helps the other with his problems and their opinions of each other turning into "ohh so we are one of the same to some degree. then i'll trust you more because i have seen you struggle with the same problems i have in the same way i do"

with the circumstances they were in, they got attached to each other's company Pretty Easily. considering how both of them severely lacked such companionship in their lives. it was a change of pace for the both of them For Sure. after years and years of being together, the trust they built in their relationship was Incomparable to anything else to be honest. they knew each other so so So long that it is now like both of them wouldn't be able to get anywhere without each other. they both had their own reasons for pursuing each other in this sense in specific but for kenix. it always was a desperate attempt for find someone to be there for him covered up as curiousity. kenix has always and Always followed orders his entire life, at first from his family now to listening to whatever prometheus whispers in his mind. his decisions always had this underlying tone of not being by free will. he does what he is told to do.

But trusting azrael and trying his best to be a trustworthy person in his eyes is the first decision that kenix has done by himself. It was his own free will which wanted to befriend azrael in specific. clinging onto him, knowing that azrael could be the one person to understand his troubles. kenix is very much aware of his fate being abruptly ended at some point and he knows that it will come soon. It is only a matter of time. following the orders of prometheus is the only way he can buy himself time to survive. Because he Needs to.

He must persist and keep living. he grasped at the concept of him being allowed to live only if he brings value to others for this long that. he just couldn't bear the thought of becoming Nothing if he wasn't anything of such value. seeking attention and validation through all means possible. all of his terrific actions had no reason other than desperation for recognition behind them. A villain who seemed to be enjoying all of this has only done this for the sake of surviving an another day.

Yet. every time kenix wanted to actually open up to azrael, it turns into a blockage in his throat. Unable to speak up, becoming a voiceless being of some sorts., , the reason being the fear of rejection in his soul. Kenix had to grasp at anything that would've given him a purpose. being prometheus's vessel was exactly done out of that desperation he wasn't even aware of. without the facade, kenix is No One. there is No One behind his carefully curated formal facade. Nothing but an incoherent mess. kenix lacks an identity. But the lack of it, then, is his identity: nothingness, absolute null. All of his emotions and feelings have always been repressed and they continue to be repressed even now. So no matter how hard he tries to differentiate himself from others, he'll end up being someone unintentionally because there is No Originality in him. And that is exactly how there is nothing about his real "self" that he thinks people would want to stay for.

with how much kenix has been repressing his emotions, discarding them and thinking of them as "fake" because he thinks that anything he felt emotionally is a lie. Because he built his whole self on a lie. A lie that he wanted this. he has now managed to lie to himself. thinking that the affection and love he holds for azrael is not real. That their bond is not real. That if he tried to show what he has been hiding behind his front for years, he would drive azrael away from him. When their relationship very much is real! kenix has no idea how to tell what was true and what was fake in him apart, so he just decided to think that everything he feels is a lie

yet. The repressed feelings, the suppressed emotions. They're all still there. Forming an incoherent mess inside of his mind and body. but even then without that mass of emotions, there is nothing else about kenix that is distinct. pure nothingness. and it Truly Scares him to even think of a scenario where azrael finds out what hollow husk of a man kenix is beneath his facade. The fear that azrael would be disgusted. That he would see him as a lowly creature. so kenix can never be truly honest about himself with azrael out of fear that the only person who understood him will leave. he tries to be so careful when talking to azrael lest he would let something about him slip. he can't just lose someone him, no.

but azrael is patient with him, he always has been. he shall wait all the needed time until kenix finally gathers the courage. he may not know what kenix has been meaning to tell him this entire time, but he can see his attempts ever so clearly. kenix is trying his best and azrael wants to make sure that kenix knows that it's alright. azrael may not be an overly kind and positive person but. If it means that someone who needs to be reassured will hear it. Well then. . . yet kenix could never be able to wrap his head around how that could be true. because of how much he was used to the lie he convinced himself with. he has told himself the same thing over and over again so many times that finally being told the opposite truth is just Shocking to him. the fact that someone doesn't want him for his value but for who he is a person

to bring back a previous point, kenix's problem with ken too, is just how much ken makes kenix realize that he is the extra one of the two. Ken had a normal life, he had a normal family, he had everything, ken had it all !. and kenix had nothing to himself. All of it - stolen. it is not even his own physical body, but the body of the original. he is perceived as someone else, he is not distinct from that someone at all in the eyes of others. despite all of his attempts to show himself as an independent person, he will forever be considered. A shadow of someone else. a shadow of the original and it pains him. and now azrael and the other sinners are the only people to ever treat kenix like a person. not like he is somebody else. But his own self. And he couldn't be more grateful that they do. That Azrael Does.

yet he can't be honest. No. No that would destroy everything he has built. everything he has worked for. but the desire. The wish to stay true to the only person he ever would consider being honest with. it has only grown stronger. The reason why he hasn't managed to tell azrael anything is solely because kenix simply felt like it wasn't the time. it will never be the time. so his one and only option was to finally tell azrael his real name. Yi Dal. although it doesn't seem like much, azrael understood the importance of this to kenix. from connecting the pieces of kenix's past story from everything he has ever told him, he could figure out that kenix only has bad associations with his real name regarding his past.

maybe. Just maybe. he could change his view on his real name, the same way kenix changed his view on his surroundings. To become the positive association that is worth remembering whenever kenix is referred by his real name. To be that something to look back at fondly.

And then the Creature™ phases come around with each of them turning into some sorts of fucken beasts ^_^. the cursed forms that in all shapes and forms represent their desires and their inner selves. for each sinner and other curse bearers, these forms are different. but for azrael and kenix.

azrael's form is completely unable to speak in full sentences. it barely speaks Actually. seeming to be straight-forward but it only just shows how azrael was not able to speak out what he thought. he was all action and no talk. which is exactly how his rampage started. he only came to conclusions from so much overthinking and hasn't tried to communicate with anyone. he just thought ot everyone as a traitor and shallow people. it really highlighted just how much he trusted his jealousy and envy rather than confirming things for himself

yet the creature seemed. More over fine with kenix's presence. Like he wasn't just a little friendly being to him! he still lashed out and acted irrationally because this form reflected on azrael's loses and overthinking that jumps straight into conclusions! but he still acted less aggressive with kenix. he didn't need to overthink his actions because of the trust he has in kenix. a bond that was stronger than the envy whispering all sorts of things into his ears. He Knows that he doesn't have to doubt him. yet he is Stuck in this box. a labyrinth of constant hesitation to Trust not only others but himself too. he wishes to free himself from such shackles but it is hard. it has always been hard to let go and change his mindset when it always was his only defense mechanism from being hurt. all of these struggles shaping themselves as a scorpion, a serpent, a venomous creature. something that symbolizes hidden danger. and yet, kenix has found beauty and something to love in such a devasting depiction of his partner. the purest way to show what he truly felt. how much he just hid this somewhere inside of himself. something that he couldn't help but feel pity for

and kenix shall do anything to prove that even then. it's going to be okay. he knows it's okay. azrael has always told him it is alright to feel like this, so surely he meant it for everyone? all struggles will pass eventually and you'll become stronger than ever, that's what azrael has told him a long time ago. even if kenix doesn't see a future for himself, he wants to make that promising future for his only love. To help him become resilient Together. He knows that azrael can do it, he had been through so much. he know he could get through this as well and break free from the curse.

and as for kenix's cursed form and the overrall story it is. So much more .? ?. his cursed form is much more bizarre compared to others. a constant variation of geometrical shapes and other possible physical forms, emiting a some sort of glow. He has lost all of his human characteristics. The true form of his self. the mass of emotions and feelings that have been repressed for decades, even centuries, has finally spilled over. creating a mess out of himself. A fool now no longer bound to a facade but is now letting all of that anguish out. so much madness, frustration and sorrow suppressed in him that is now out in the open for everyone to see. a being no longer able to communicate, for he has turned into something that is only capable of Wails. Sobs out loud. Muffled screams of agony. so many emotions he had yet to properly address yet that it is all coming in as an overwhelming wave of terror. he can no longer hide himself beside a neatly made front

a seemingly unapologetic "villain" reduced to a sorrowful creature. a being so clearly desperate for freedom. to know who he is. to finally be free from these principles chaining him to a life of silence until his death. he feels that his demise is coming soon. and he can't do anything about it. for now he can only be a hostile monster. a vessel, a prophet for prometheus's salvation. because this was planned to be his end a long long time ago. this was his purpose. his only value. once this is done, he will be gone for too. finishing his duty, being allowed rest. despite how much he yearns to keep living. but kenix has always been about acceptance. acceptance of his fate. This Miserable Fate

yet azrael found himself only feeling sympathy, for this was the moment that he has finally learned about his partner's true feelings. and it hurt to hear someone so important and dear to him wallow in pain and anguish like that. that version of kenix was a hostile being, but he still so clearly needed help. he needed the courage to overcome this. to break free from prometheus's influence over everything he did because he never had confidence in such actions. and azrael wanted to help with just that despite their current barrier where they cannot understand one another. just like kenix helped him, he wanted to help kenix create his own future to look forward to. without death. with azrael by his side. to survive. to keep living just like kenix desired to this whole time.

the end of their chapters as cursed beings meant that the both of them could finally experience relief together. a moment of Bliss. the realization that it is over. they get to exist, unshackled from the burdens that once plagued their minds. a possibility for salvation. a chance to live without being bound to their past or their inner desires. just peace and tranquility, their one true wish

But Uh Oh! Bad News Motherfuckers! Y'all forgot this shit was a death timeloop! With how i previously mentioned that the actual protagonist of the story, Yaku, has started a timeloop rooted in the desire of saving what meant the world to him that was dying at the end of the journey. The same kind of important people who cruelly had their lives cut short. And The only other character aware of this timeloop was well. Kenix! with this sudden ending of lives for most of the casts, azrael had also became a victim to these abrupt endings.

having to witness his love's life fade away before his eyes, it is only natural for kenix to also be shocked at the situation that yaku is also stuck in. and this scenario is exactly how yaku became the last one to be cursed, his curse rooted in his one biggest desire. a selfish deed covered up as an act of selflessness. their timelines' restarting, the flow of time now looping on and on until yaku manages to save everyone from these deaths

kenix had no control over this, he was forced to watch the protagonist and his nephew descend into madness over a singular goal. while also having to relive his entire life over and over again. a cycle of misery for everyone involved. the others would never be able to realize that this was a timeloop, so the first and the original time they had done this. Has became their script. that everyone, including kenix, had to follow until the end

of course in the first few loops, kenix had also tried to do everything in his power to ensure that his friends. that azrael. would be safe from their gruesome demise. yet their endings had already been written as part of the unchangeable fate by the forces above. neither kenix or yaku had a chance at succeeding. despite kenix's own attempts to save his partner, there was nothing he could do. he could only Watch how his impending doom was slowly getting closer

it was Painful. he could see azrael, he feel him, talk to him, interact with him in general just like normal. yet it wasn't him. no that could never be azrael ever again. that azrael felt surreal. abnormal. like he was programmed beforehand. there was nothing new about him and he felt so Off. Because kenix was aware that this is just the repeating of their original story. it's like he talked to someone playing pretend. his original feeling of "this doesn't feel real (positive)" when he first met azrael has turned into "this doesn't feel real. (derogatory)" kind of feeling. seeing azrael like this was just tormenting. a painful reminder that he will, one day, leave him not by will. and kenix will have to learn to live without him

to live without the person who had shown him love and how to love for the first time ever. a someone who had changed the course of his life so much. brought down what kenix had thought of the world and built it anew. keeping his silence about the truth because now. it was the only the thing that he could never ever tell azrael. what he had seen that day. None of it. for his sake.

perhaps, if they had never met here. if they had met at a different time.

In short, they are so fucking Doomed.

smth smth. Yeag. Good Fucking Lord They Make Me Sick

[triglycercule]

ok so there's murder time trio where theyre best buddies and get along and sometimes even having more than just platonic interactions. and then there's also the murder time trio where they genuinely just don't like each other and avoid each other and do NOT get along and to me there's just a VERY clear timeline of events that could connect these two group dynamics. like these 2 could coexist,,,,,,

nightmare's fresh outta his little corruption sequence and he needs his henchmen. goes out and gathers the obvious three killer horror and dust (does it really matter how he got them??? kidnapping or not the trio will warm up to him). its his first time having to deal with mentally unstable grown up mortal men and he really has no idea how to manage the team so he lets them have some slack. spoils em a bit yk yk stops fights allows them to hang out allows em to screw around the castle even COMFORTS them,,,, shocking i know (a slightly nice nightmare interpretation from triglycercule? UNFATHOMABLE!!!!)

this killer's fresh outta something new so he's still kinda curious and nosy. he hasnt seen the multiverse and especially not interacted with nightmare/horrordust so he's kinda more outgoing and friendly (ish. to get to know better everyone and satisfy the curiosity of seeing what reactions and feelings these fellas could give him.) bc killer's not that much of a prick and horror and dust would naturally SLIGHTLY get along (and if in the right environment be good buddies. which is nm's lenience and killer's not shittiness) the mtt actually get along pretty well and are good buds!! like the first group dynamic i mentioned where the bad sanses are just kinda like a friend group except they have some weird work relations

and then a fight breaks out and nightmare kills either dust or horror (what about??? anything!) likely dust first because he's more likely to be wary of nm (if kidnapped) and also because he's just kinda more actively righteous compared to horror (who likely wouldn't do much against nm) or killer (does not give a shit.) dust dies, horror likely dies defending dust and that just leaves the og killer and nightmare

nightmare is like "oh shit i just killed my workers". he'll take like a week to ponder what he did and then completely move on (because hes an ass like that.) nightmare gets another horror and dust to replace the ones he killed. and killer is just like wtf how do i deal with this. the guys i were kinda friends were are dead but their copies are right here. like he knew copies existed in the utmv but he didn't think nightmare was so willing to replace them so fast???

this killer's still adapting to the multiverse and stuff (it probably hasn't even been a year since he got snatched up!!!) and yeah hes aware that copies exist and he could get replaced by one but he didn't think that it would LITERALLY HAPPEN RIGHT BEFORE HIS EYES. so he decides to stick more around nm and avoid getting replaced like the og dust and horror because it really just hammers in the point that he's kinda useless if he speaks out like those 2. hes avoidant of the new replacements as well bc hes still new to this experience and is getting used to the whole implications of two guys that were once him and he was friends with died and got replaced by basically the same person

but they still have to work together for obvious reasons. and even if killer's avoiding horror and dust they probably aren't avoiding each other and probably are like wary friends/acquaintances. and naturally killer HAS to become okay worker buddy pals with them because hes stuck living with them. nightmare's a lot stricter and cold to avoid something like dust's rebellion against him happening again. mtt are wary of each other (mostly towards killer. horrordust are pals and killer's kinda growing more apathetic to the duo because he's already experienced a lot of the stuff before with the og two that died.) but theyre still "friends" you could say

and then perchance maybe horror and dust decide to let killer in on a lil secret theyve been cooking up. theyre planning to escape (kidnapped DUH. and nm isn't as nice as he was to og horrordust to warrent them to wanna stay) and even though they don't really trust killer theyre still letting him in on the plan and offer for him to come with them because they lowkey feel bad for him and he's really not all that bad under all the bullshit

but killer saw what happened to the og dust and horror so he says no. and the night that the duo are planning to escape he just has this overwhelming sense of dread. the next morning he wakes up to nightmare standing over his bed with a cold glare telling him of horror and dust's attempted escape and death and killer just kinda. sighs. his dread was right (he was lowkey hoping that they could escape so they didn't die like the original 2)

and then the cycle repeats. previous dust or horror or both die to nightmare or some random outside force or escape (because it has to happen eventually right??) and the pair keep getting replaced. killer keeps witnessing their deaths and replacements and at this point he's just so used to it that he doesn't even TRY to interact with the new horrors and dusts. theyre not even like real people that are getting killed and replaced like robots to him anymore they're just distant coworkers that get fired and then a new one comes to take up the position

each new dust or horror is icked out by nightmare and killer. nightmare is incredibly cold and intimidating and dictatorial and just sucks in general. and killer gives them this distant look. like he knows something they dont. he's already proven to them that he knows that they should obey nightmare and how to deal with the king and they know he's been here longer than them but even when he's not with nightmare or not talking about him they get the blank stare

sometimes when a nicer replacement of horror decides to do something nice for killer like make him a meal he just gives him that look and declines (there's already been countless different horrors that tried doing nice stuff for him. it's not new and nice in his eyes anymore.) maybe when a dust replacement gets irked by killer's apathy and decides to try and say something that'll bother him or snoop through his personal stuff killer will just walk away or kick him out of his room with that creepy ass blank stare again (it's not the first time a dust has tried to rile him up. it's not new or interesting and just predictable)

killer just doesn't CARE about the new horrors and dusts. they're all pretty much the same two guy except maybe a bit nicer or meaner or quieter or even taller or something?? all he really cares about is is serving nightmares atp, no other outside relationships. and ngl he doesn't even care that much about nightmare either. he's already figured out his thinking he's already figured out all of his likes and dislikes and what not to do to piss him off. the only reason he's still dealing with him is because he doesn't have anything else better to do and he doesn't wanna be useless to the one guy that he's served all this time

he's just kinda stuck in an empty boring limbo that killer's only maintaining due to a lack of motivation and any other priorities. and personally i just think this bad sans dynamic is lowkey tragic because like killer keeps witnessing all these guys that he used to be friends or enemies or rivals or whatever with and they just keep dying or leaving him behind. not one ever stays for THAT long (because no wayyyy a dust or horror would take being under a cruel nightmare well) and it's given him this idea that none of these people matter (aside from the important one which is nm) because they're just gonna leave me and the connections ill have formed with them will be for nothing so why even try being vulnerable and friendly and interacting with these cheap copies of the guys i USED to be friends with

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

i guess the reason so many books featuring trans characters have them able to go stealth and make it so other characters don't know they're trans unless they say something is because that's an escapist fantasy for many trans authors who don't get that and want to imagine what it's like to live in a world where you don't get misgendered on sight every single day, and because they don't want to write about the latter (very fair)

but also when these are YA books it depends on the characters being able to medically transition at like 14 and i have literally never in my life met a single person who was able to do that (partly because I live in the UK where you can't and also I am old enough that for people my age, coming out as a preteen would've been way harder and rarer than it would be for current teen-aged protagonists)

so idk. i would like to read a book with trans characters who feel like real people living in the real world occasionally. it's hard to walk a path when you never get to see other people do it first and never get to witness it safely in fiction before you experience it IRL, and only ever seeing people walk roads that don't even exist in your reality doesn't really help at all tbh

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[orchideae]

(We've all seen the first one, but the source for the second one from the official artist is here)

Yelan. Yelan, Madame Yelan, what on earth is this outfit. Granted, please don't get me wrong, I loved and was enthralled when I first caught a glimpse of her (also any glimpse of Yelan thrills me) in it, but geez. And yet, they're so consistent with her design;

— The single-sleeved jacket is a brilliant little nod to her mantle but making it something utterly hers within something that is an AU. No mystical beasts or Tsaritsa here! — The straps near her neck are a very different, but quite nice, summer-like rendition to Hoyo's consistent choice for Yelan of a halter/high neck (even the Pizza Hut ad had her in a turtleneck). A lower neckline is something that they actively seem to avoid for her so far. — The amount of see-through fabric is simply a call-back to her default outfit, but rather than spots of it left and right, it's her full-midriff and leg. It fits, it's nothing new. And if anything, funnily enough, I'd seen numerous artworks pop up of Yelan in swimming attire, and all of the designs felt a little off. I don't actually envision her in a bikini like many draw her, but instead, something like what you see here from her neck, to the midriff to the hips. Much more fitting in my opinion, actually, so I like seeing that concept in an outfit in circumstances where you'd expect a lot of summer influence. — And a detail that makes me laugh: the hand that has the white glove in her canonical outfit is also white here, and same with the black one. Also, the bracelet. God, I love consistency even if it seems trivial. But nothing's ever trivial to me guys, you know this.

All in all, thirst trap, sure, but also, good decisions were made.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

one in a million when i watch smthing in the horror genre and don't end up disappointed to/and/or pissed off about it so like "also yeah i liked it. ooo" is like relative to that an off the charts rave review of media of the millennium. also i did think about mh a lot along the way so would recommend its affect/effect if you like mh's horror too

[impeccablebackside]

It had been a while, but the idea of bending Rumpleteazer in half and making her whimper was not on Mungojerrie's mind as much as it could have been. Of course, fucking her would be the best thing he could possibly ask for, but he truthfully has had other things to think about. Sometimes life just gets busy, and they go long(er) periods between frantic sessions. The ball was coming up, but he realistically did not need much preparation for it. Every year him and Rumpleteazer caused their usual brand of chaos, and they had performed their song countless times now.

In the end, they have always made up for dry spells, and he reminds himself that he is patient enough to wait for his treat. His queen knows just how to reward such good behavior, and he cannot help but drop everything to please her needs when she calls his name in such an alluring way. Just the thought of her sounds and body keeps him going most days.

Walking back to their shared den after a spirited morning of lovingly bothering whoever he crossed paths, Mungojerrie was planning on a quieter afternoon of rest before getting up to the usual shenanigans of his nights. Entering into their little private space, he is surrounded by all of the stuff he has stolen and kept away. Walls full of glittering jewelry, floors full of soft cushions, with one centralized catbed in the middle of it all.

Expecting to come home to an empty den, he is a bit surprised to find Rumpleteazer rustling around inside. As per usual, she is her excited self, humming along to herself as she wiggles around and fiddles with things. It takes a moment, but Mungojerrie realizes that she is wearing her song costume, which catches him off-guard. She usually only wears it during the ball or when they are practicing their song together. Standing in the entrance, he just watches her as she quietly dances around, taking in the sight of her.

Mungojerrie is a pretty simple tom when it comes to things that turn him on, but there is something about the costume that drives him wild. Perhaps it is the significance of it, where they both have near magical sex post ball, perhaps it is the way garters and stockings show off her legs, perhaps the way the leotard squeezes her in all the right places and shows off her perfect ass. Maybe it is just all of those things together, and the fact that he thinks she is stunning to begin with. The costume just adds some extra spice. Her ass though, he thinks as he stares, watching it jiggle a bit with every little move. Maybe that is just it.

"It's about time you showed up. Are ya just going to sit there like a moron?" The words jolt him out of his trance, unfortunately really. Given the surprised look on his face, Rumpleteazer continues, "Did you honestly forgot Mungo? C'mon you know we have to practice before the ball. It is literally in a few days!" It suddenly dawns on him. The ball is indeed just a couple of days away. It must have just slipped his mind.

"Oh alright, you little pain in the ass. How come you didn't remind me? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?"

"You big orange dope, we're both the smart ones! Look at all this stuff we've stole. You think two dumbasses like us could get this without some whisper of intelligence. What do you take us for?" she blurts with a giggle. The way she smiles, along with the look of fierceness in her bright green eyes, always makes Mungojerrie get flustered. Somehow, at least once a week, they have the same little argument, and they always reach the same conclusion.

"Well, I uh, yeah you are right. Have I ever told you that you are also the beauty behind these operations?" he stammers, trying to sound suave. It is not very effective.

"At least once a week, but I never get tired of hearing it. Now get ready and get yer crap on," she says beckoning to him and his costume with respective paws.

Slipping it on quickly, Mungojerrie is ready to roll. They share a glance before speaking at the same time, "Well c'mon now, let's get on with it." Laughing at the other, they assume their starting position. Running through it, they dance their entire routine up until their cartwheel multiple times, singing each part as if they are professionals. In a way, they are. Moving together as if they share the same mind. Having gone through it enough times, they start to joke around, belting out random names while singing. Mungojerrie introduces himself as Scharrelnelis and Burma Charley, while Rumpleteazer yelps out Tingl-Tangl and Lorrenjopie. Trying out-do one another, they end up in fits of giggles and end up stopping. "Tingl-Tangl? What the hell does that even mean Teazer?"

Which is met with, "I think its better than Burma Charley! How do you even come up that?"

Breathless from all the practicing and laughing, they take a few moments to rest. Slapping her shoulder lightly, Mungojerrie nods to his queen, "Best be doing some of those razzle dazzle cartwheels now."

"Alright, alright. Only a few though. I want to save some energy for later tonight," she nods back.

They roll through two sets, a spectacular array of arms and legs working as a solid unit. On the third run though, they get as far as Rumpleteazer leaping into Mungojerrie arms before she stops. "Oh damnit, ran out of steam," loosening up her body in his arms. She is hanging upside down, her legs up past her tom's head. Mungojerrie holds her there, unsure about what to do next. She had never stopped like that, and he finds it sort of fun to have a hold on her like that. "You can put me down whenever ya like y'know," she yells up to him.

The words fly past his ears, as at that point, Mungojerrie is starting to get a better idea of what he wants to do instead. With a near face full of Rumpleteazer's pussy and ass, his needs have crept up and washed over him hard. Feeling something brush against her thighs, Rumpleteazer is startled by the feeling of Mungojerrie rubbing his face into her center, letting out a quick gasp. With messy kisses and licks, he fights against the fabric protecting his prize. He can feel and smell the warmth of her, and he is determined to get his taste. Taking a few steps forward, he gently throws her down onto the edge of their shared bed. He stands over her, watching. The hunger in his eyes and the way he is licking his lips is a huge turn-on for Rumpleteazer. She wants to be lusted after, but in control, the object of unwavering desire for her partner.

She looks up at him, "Oh no, did my special guy miss this?" her paws running along her thighs, claws pulling little lines in her fur. No matter what, she cannot help but tease him.

Mungojerrie just nods his head over and over, "Please."

Mimicking their song, she hops up onto her bottom and spreads her legs, reaching out with her right arm. "Well, I guess I cannot let ya wait to have 'dinner' tomorrow then," she says, giving him a mischievous eyebrow raise. Inviting him in to close the gap between them, when he is within reach, she grabs him by his croptop and pulls him downward with force. It has been a while for Rumpleteazer too, and she needs it now. Keeping her hold on the tom with one paw, she pulls her costume aside with the other, revealing her beautiful pussy. Giving it a rub, she slides two fingers up and down between her lips before spreading herself open. She is glistening wet, and ready for more. "Now," she commands, pulling his head down until he is forced to kneel to match the level of her hips.

With a big dumb smile, he says, "Alright, I guess it's too late to say to keep yer pants on. What's it that the owners always say? Bon Appétit or something like that?" the last words coming out in a cheesy French accent before he gives her heat a little lick and kiss.

"I swear to the Everlasting Cat, if ya don't shut up and -," she is cut off. Mungojerrie, pent up from the dry spell and this lead up, cannot start slow. He dives in deep with his tongue, lapping her up with a vigorous pacing. "Oh fuuuck, right there. Oh god Jerrie, keep going," Rumpleteazer purrs. She slips her fingers through the messier fur on his head, gripping hold to keep his head between her legs. His technique is incredible, putting his noteworthy mouth to a different use. Rumpleteazer whines as he explores her pussy, kissing and sucking at her clit and folds with messy eagerness. He needs his queen to know how much he wants her to feel loved and happy, chasing her approval.

Drowned out by Rumpleteazer's louder whines, Mungojerrie moans along as he eats her out. Even being the giver is still filling him with so much pleasure that he must let it out. Almost constantly vocal at the best of times, he has a hard time reigning in his excitement during sex. Little reverberations ripple through his lips and tongue as he hums against her. Everything is so good, and she tastes so heavenly, and her cries are golden, and her body is immaculate, and Mungojerrie is just trying his best. Keeping his face buried in her pussy, he needs something to take the pressure of. His cock is throbbing for attention, so he quietly brings a paw down and jerks himself while continuing, never breaking his stride. It feels so good to be where he is.

"You're such a good boy to take care of me, my love," Teazer says between gasps. She is more breathy than he anticipates, but the meaning of her words hit him hard. Praise from her pretty mouth is more rewarding than anything, and he is even more determined to prove himself. He abandons his quest for release, bringing both arms around Rumpleteazer's waist to anchor himself and pull her even closer. Focusing on her most sensitive spot, he takes aim her clit, which gets louder whines out of his queen. Her paws fling out beside her, claws digging into the soft bed as she braces herself. Her legs flail around his shoulders before pressing themselves against his ears. Not long after he doubled down his efforts, Rumpleteazer squeals as she cums on his tongue. Her body tightens up as she rides out the first climax of the day, eventually relaxing while Mungojerrie still licks away, never quite satiated with getting a taste of her.

Pushing his head away, she needs a moment to regain herself. Severing the connection gets a sad whimper from Mungojerrie, but he knows better than to grovel for long. He straightens his back, still on his knees, waiting out for more. Rumpleteazer pulls her legs up to her ears, slowly spreading them apart, "You look like you're in a daze, c'mere and fuck me like ya deserve it." It does not take any extra time for him to rationalize it, leaping up onto his feet and grabbing her at the ankles, pulling her legs open. The look on Rumpleteazer's face is one of joyous excitement and frisky desire, and she squirms in place with anticipation. Bringing his hips against hers, he slides his cock along the outside of her pussy, enjoying the sight of her begging. He is not the only one who can tease a bit.

"Show me how much you want me," he says, pausing at her entrance. Rumpleteazer lets out a sultry purr, trying to sound more composed than she is feeling. Helpless in that position, she can only watch and wait.

With a swift thrust, he fucks into her, eliciting a mewl of approval. He is not so big, but fills her up just enough to make them both gasp. It is the greatest experience in the world for him. She is so soft and tight, and the warm feeling of her around him is utter bliss. Normally, he would start slower, but he is desperate for her body. Desperate to hear her whine. Desperate to get more praise from his love. There is no rhythm or plan in mind. He just needs her. With frenetic thrusts, he fucks her over and over again. Pounding her with fast and deep strokes, his mind is clouded by his lust. "Oh heaviside Jerrie! Ahh!" is all that escapes her mouth in loud cries. Easing the grip on her legs, he drops them down and leans over her, pushing more weight into his fucking. He moans to himself, groaning with each push of his hips, but only he is aware. On the receiving end, Rumpleteazer no longer can compose herself, her whines turning into near deafening wails. She tries to silence her yelps, bringing a paw in front of her mouth, but it is no use. She is not sure if Mungojerrie has fucked her this hard before, and it is definitely worthy of the entire junkyard knowing about it. He is so eager to please her that he is unable to think about anything other than hearing her whine louder. His own pleasure is taking a backseat to her needs, and he would not have it any other way.

Mungojerrie can feel his love clench more and more around his length as he continues on, and based on how her sounds are becoming more incomprehensible as he goes on, she is not far from a glorious orgasm. Neither is he, but the buzz in his mind is so deep that he can only fuck with feral intent. He has been forceful enough that he has pushed Rumpleteazer to the middle of their bed in his pursuits. Grunting, Mungojerrie slinks up onto his knees, wraps his arms around each of her legs, and pulls her hips up. Frantically trying to deepen his penetration, he repeatedly gives her everything he can. Burying his length into her with enough vigour that his balls slap against her asshole. It all becomes too much for her, and with a leg shaking quiver and ear piercing high squeal, Rumpleteazer cums again. The climax ripples through her body, and her pussy squeezes harder around Mungojerrie's cock.

It all feels so good, and knowing he has again made his love fall apart through his actions thickens the haze in his head. It is like he is drunk off of her taste and feel, and he cannot get enough. With a few more thrusts into her, his will breaks. Pumping wave after wave of his cum in massive surges, he starts to fill her up with his hot loads. He knows better than to give his queen a creampie without asking, but being pent up for so long has left him emptying himself into her soft heat without second thought. He cums so much that it starts to leak out of Rumpleteazer with subsequent strokes. Pulling out, his cum floods out of her swollen pussy, but Mungojerrie is not done yet. With a couple jerks of his cock he shoots one final cumshot over Rumpleteazer's pelvis and the outside of her pussy before crumpling down in front of her hips.

"Holy crap Mungo, save some of yer jizz for the rest of the year," she exclaims. Bringing a paw down to her pussy, she feels around the mess left behind, "How much did'ya have in you? Has it really been that long?" Mungojerrie just gives an indistinct hum, his body utterly spent from the energy exerted and from his lengthy climaxes. "Oh man, you got it all over my costume too," she says while wiping away some cum. "Don't just lay there you dummy, help me out. This isn't my splooge," she continues on.

"Alright jeez. It's like you didn't even like it," he says scooping her up by her hips. "I've a good idea how to get you squeaky clean," he beams, looking far more excited than he should.

"Promise me no baths Jerrie, y'know I hate water," she says flatly.

Much like he did to start their endeavor, he drops down to kiss and lick at her pussy again. Even messier with his tongue than before, he smears his face in her wetness and his own cum. Already sensitive down there, Rumpleteazer twiches in reaction as he goes on. Surprising her, he spins her around so that she is straddling his face, getting a playful look from the queen. "Gravity and all, you know," the words coming out muffled against her skin as he winks. Starting up again, it does not take much, but after a couple of minutes, she is cumming yet again on his tongue. This time she is much quieter, subdued from the previous releases. Mostly cleaned out and licked clean, Mungojerrie slips his head out from underneath her hips.

Wearing most of the product of his newest exploit on his cheeks, he lays in glee trying to collect himself. A twinge of jealousy builds in Rumpleteazer, but she knows how to get square with him. "I want a taste too," she says before wrapping her lips around his cock, sucking him off and getting a little taste of what he left behind in her. Within a few dips of her head, Mungojerrie lets go again, bucking his hips into her mouth as he shoots one more small bit of cum against her tongue. At this point, it is all that he has left in him. Pulling her head off, Rumpleteazer crawls overtop of him, meeting face to face for the first time in a bit. She makes two quick passes with her tongue, licking errant cum and her own grool off of his cheeks with the load still in her mouth. Locking eyes, they both grab one another's heads, passionately kissing deeply and swapping shared spit and cum between them.

When they break apart, Rumpleteazer speaks in a sultry tone, holding a paw on his shoulder, "You did so good my pretty boy. No one treats me like you do." She traces little patterns in his fur while continuing, "Nobody can make me feel so special, and don't think I didn't hear you moan for me." Her tone is so alluring, and he starts to get hard again, his girth brushing against her leg. "Really Mungo? Aren't ya running on empty. Could you even go again?" she exclaims, gesturing to his cock.

"Not at all. I'm sorry Rump, y'know I like when ya talk sweet to me. I cannot help it. My brain says enough, but my dick screams for more. It's like a pollicle wagging their tail!" he explains.

With a half annoyed, half endeared giggle, she pats his head a few times, "Well then, who's a good boy? My good boy?" He is, and he knows it.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

I want a tablet with keyboard for writing 😭