#i know i still have another ask from you i will get to it SOMETIME xD

[doublel27]

I’m still thinking about Daou Pittya’s live last night where he roasted fans and his current mission to get people to stop using the terms koojin and fanservice.

And thinking about how Pond and Phuwin admitted they hang out a lot but they don’t post any of it because they don’t want their actual relationship outside of work to be called fanservice.

And thinking about the interview BillyBabe gave recently where they reiterated that they don’t engage in fanservice and they can’t make anyone believe anything about their relationship anyway.

And about old videos of Earth during early ATOTS era asking MCs not to use the term koojin about him and Mix.

And about YinWar, BossNouel and MaxTul always having been very honest that they are friends who work together. Never obscuring that fact.

And about Tay Tawan loudly saying that OffGunTayNew all kiss each other all the time since Gun showed up and the realties of their friendship are none of your business.

And about Krist loudly saying he’s allowed to have friends.

Because none of these pairs intend to stop acting with their current partner (aside from MaxTul because Tul has left the industry entirely.) They’re not protesting being paired with another person for multiple projects. They are protesting the commodification, the telling a person who they are with know actual knowledge, and frankly homophobic/toxic masculinity drenched idea that for a man to show care to another man they either have to have a deep romantic relationship or they’re faking it all for the money, even the stuff with no branding attached.

And half the stuff that gets filed away as evidence that two men in a pair or are dating or that everything is definitely fanservice and is entirely manufactured are things that are completely normal in female friendships:

Looking at a person when they speak

Knowing someone’s likes and dislikes

Thoughtful gifts

Saying you love them/care

Acts of service

Physical affection

Sometimes being jealous of a friend’s relationship with other friends

Hanging out outside of work

And yeah, some of them may be just coworkers that they grit their teeth and work with and fake it til they make it. But some pairs out there have a genuine relationship, however they label it. And however it’s labeled is none of your business.

As a fan, you have no right to tell them how to act, whether it’s to call out fanservice and demand they stop or to tell them they can’t have other friends. Both are toxic extremes and treating a person like an object you can control.

There’s a longer essay on this, that I plan to finish soon, but this is where my brain keeps cycling through.

Bottom line, listen to these men when they speak. Trust their agency. I hope they keep clapping back at everyone.

[will-therian-angel]

Since I know ain't noone gonna ask us anything and I'm impatient I'm just gonna answer myself.

Median & regular, origins traumagenic, stressgenic and neurogenic. By regular I mean our emotion headmates (headmates that can control emotions and pop up occasionally when we feel a certain emotion, something like the movie inside out) who are fully independent people, they are neurogenic because they are caused by our disorders. Oh yeah and the tulpae but they are quiet and I don't know what they're up to. I did speak with Mr Owl and Withered Bonnie yesterday. Froggy is the most active tulpa because he makes his presence known.

Always fluctuating, cannot take note.

Cannot answer.

Little, headspace is vague and uncontrollable. Basically a mini universe.

No. Unless Mangle's extra endoskeleton head counts because they are conscious.

Unaware.

I am the original (I think) and I didn't front for a very long time so I cannot answer that.

Not really. We just form headmates without them coming with preset roles. Most emotion headmates are persecutors and aegirs.

I am unaware if there's any drama but otherwise it is a good source and I use it.

Simplyplural.

Funny question.. Serious answer though: I am trying to keep an archive of all hosts. It's gonna be hard though, if they themselves didn't know whos who, it's gonna be sure as hell hard for me. We've had at least 4/5 host switches.

No as of writing this, 3rd (?) host gave the name Weird hotel and it stuck with the 4th (?) host but once he went dormant too it didn't fit anymore. We did kinda go by another name way later but it also didn't fit anymore (NoNameCave).

All of us are nonhuman.

Not aware/unknown. Possibly. Big possibility that there are cats in the frontrooms.

I am actually an angel who was demoted into being a human.

No, unless my boyfriend is secretly a system.

The latter, yes.

No because if the body can't do it we cannot. Unless we're talking about headspace because gods know whats going on in there /lh. I'd say we are all collectively good with noticing patterns, understanding behaviour and psychology.

Being cringe is being free. Only you can decide your identity. You can be whatever you want.

About whether I'm a good person, if my experiences are valid (they are the supportive ones)

I do not understand this question. The same way?

Yes, probably more than we know of. One known is shattered Glamrock Freddy who communicated to me through dreams. He is partially verbal and very sensitive.

Bung.

No.

Yes, they keep secret mostly, by pretending we are a singlet if that's what you're asking?

We all share the same beliefs.

Host decides, the rest are advice givers however the emotion headmates fight over it sometimes.

We collectively have weird traditions and are proud.

I do have a playlist for a sideblog and Spotify favourites.

We do have art of the emotion headmates we will share later and make a page.

Facets always get along. I cannot do anything when the emotion headmates are fighting. Mood swings happen.

No.

We only as of writing know one and he is normal about the baby talk.

Newest headmate is Hedgehog from five nights with hedgehog, a russian FNaF fangame with antagonist toys. We are still not quite aware of, if there is a, storyline for the game because we do not speak russian

They do not have outside headspace hobbies.

FNaF + fangames, analogue horror.

No.

Only to a friend.

Complicated answer.

No, we find it disgraceful.

Yes

Unaware.

Asexuality.

Simplyplural.

Same.

Hard to switch from host to headmate.

No but we do have collective memory problems.

Nothing weird but Froggy co-fronted with one previous host to help beat Five nights with Froggy.

Chocolate.

We collectively have a fountain phobia.

I like scene, goth, weirdcore and vaporwave.

We have a fish and a budgie and they don't notice.

No.

Unaware.

Me. The others are already nonhuman.

Not too awkward but one previous host switched to Tangle when an old 'friend' was 'apologizing' for ignoring us.

No.

Yes, we don't /j. We deal with it by being frustrated and thinking about it a lot.

Yes. Fourth Closet Freddy was unaccepted because in source he is a killer robot.

It changes a lot.

Long system ask game!

Because it's been ages since we made one and we felt like it.

What type of system are you?

How many people are there in your system?

Do you have more introjects or non-introjects?

How much control do you have over your headspace (if you have one)?

Do you have any subsystems?

Do you have any in-system couples?

How did you discover your systemhood? Or did you become one on purpose?

How do you feel about system roles, and do you use them?

What are your thoughts on Pluralpedia?

Do you use anything to keep track of switching?

Have you ever had a change in hosts?

Do you have a system name? How did you pick it?

Do you have any nonhuman members? Feel free to list their species!

Do you have any headspace pets?

Current fronter/fronters, share some random info about you!

Do you have a partner system? How did you meet?

Have you ever mistaken a character of yours for a headmate? What about the other way around?

Does anyone have any skills that the others don't?

What's something y'all tend to agree on?

What about something you tend to disagree on?

Do symptoms of neurodivergencies/mental illness tend to manifest the same way or differently among headmates?

Do you have any syskids?

Share an in-system joke!

Has how you view your plurality changed?

If you have fictives, do they participate in their source fandom? If yes, are they open about who they are in fandom spaces?

How do you handle headmates having different spiritual beliefs?

How do you decide on major life decisions (where to live, what to study, what work to have, etc)?

Do you have any system traditons?

Current fronter, do you have your own playlist? Feel free to share it!

Do you have any art of anyone in the system? Feel free to show it off!

How do you handle it when people in the system don't get along?

Current fronter, is there anything that makes it obvious you're the one fronting? (Voice, accent, body language, typing style, etc)

If you have syskids, how do they feel about stereotypical "babby tawk"?

Share something about your newest member!

Do you tend to have collective or separate interests and hobbies?

If you have introjects, what source do you have the most from?

Are you out as plural to anyone irl?

Do you know any systems irl?

Which headmate was the biggest surprise?

Do you have a singletsona?

Do you have any collective labels?

What's the most common gender in your system?

What's the most common sexuality in your system?

What's your favorite app/website/etc for plural stuff?

Do you tend to have the same taste in food or not?

Is it hard or easy for you to switch?

Do you experience system-related amnesia?

Share something weird a headmate has done!

Current fronter, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?

Share a silly fear someone in the system has!

Current fronter, describe your aesthetic!

If you have outworld pets, do they tend to act differently around different headmates?

Has anyone ever figured out you were a system without you telling them?

When it comes to syskids, is there anyone in particular that takes care of them?

Does anyone in the system identify as otherkin, therian, or fictionkin?

Have you ever switched in an awkward moment? What happened?

Do you ever switch without realizing it?

Are you ever blurry? How do you handle it?

Has anyone ever treated an introject badly because of who their source is?

Current fronter, share a pic of your "face claim!"

[mindless-existence1]

Hiii!! I wanted to request a shadow x fem! reader who in the movie verse is a college student that found shadow and now partly takes care of him. Knowing shadow, he’d still be a loner but I’d like to think having an another younger female influence in his life could help him with Maria’s passing. I also think it’d be super cute if she taught him gen z/modern things. He’s just too precious in the movie omg☹️❤️

Authors note: I love Shadow he's my boy. Also I didn't come up with how they met so this is just them hanging out in readers apartment watching a movie together

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

Your apartment in Green Hills wasn’t anything fancy—just a modest space with a small kitchen, a worn but comfortable couch, and a TV that sometimes acted up. But it was home, and apparently, Shadow thought so too.

The first time he came over, it had been an unexpected visit. You’d found him on your balcony, his crimson eyes scanning the street below like he was waiting for something to go wrong. You’d invited him in, unsure if he’d accept, but he had.

Since then, Shadow had started dropping by when he needed to escape the chaos of the world—or his own thoughts. Tonight was one of those nights.

He was sprawled on your couch, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression softened by the dim light of the TV. You had a movie playing, some action-packed thriller that you thought he’d enjoy. But Shadow seemed more interested in quietly existing in the moment.

“Popcorn?” you offered, holding out a bowl as you curled up on the other end of the couch.He glanced at it skeptically. “I don’t understand humans’ obsession with this.”

“You say that every time, and yet you always eat it,” you teased, shaking the bowl slightly. Shadow’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile, and he reached out to grab a handful.

As the movie played, you got caught up in the action. One scene showed the protagonists making a mistake that ended in a dramatic explosion. You couldn’t help but comment, “Oh man, those guys are cooked.”

Shadow’s ears twitched, and he turned his head slightly toward you, his brow furrowed. “Cooked? They’re not being prepared as food.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation. “No, it’s slang,” you explained. “It means they’re done for, like there’s no coming back from that.”

He frowned, clearly processing your words. “Why use a term that implies food preparation instead of saying what you mean?”

“Because slang is fun, and it makes language more expressive,” you said, grinning. “Besides, it’s just how people talk sometimes.” Shadow huffed, leaning back against the couch. “Humans are strange.”

“And yet, you keep coming here,” you shot back with a playful smile.Shadow didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the screen, but the corners of his mouth softened just slightly.

“Your apartment is… peaceful,” he said finally. Your chest warmed at his words. Shadow wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his feelings, so every little admission felt significant.

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” you said, nudging his leg lightly with your foot. “Even if you think popcorn and slang are weird.” He didn’t reply, but his crimson eyes flicked toward you for a moment, a quiet gratitude in his gaze.

By the time the credits rolled, you were explaining another piece of slang—this time, “vibe.” Shadow looked vaguely unimpressed.

“So, when someone says ‘good vibes,’ they mean a positive feeling or atmosphere?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly.“Exactly!” you said, grinning. “See? You’re getting the hang of it.”

He shook his head, muttering something about “unnecessary complications,” but you just shook your head with a small smile. As the night wore on, you found yourself leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t move away, simply letting you stay there as the quiet hum of the TV filled the room.

In these moments, you knew Shadow found something he didn’t often allow himself: peace. And for as long as he needed it, you’d always make room for him in your little corner of Green Hills.

[occasionalsnippets]

I’m curious about Tim and MC’s relationship.

Like, is Tim grateful for the fact that MC took care of him?

Does he know that MC took his shifts as Robin so he wouldn’t deal with B’s bad days/nights?

Does he know that Jack and Janet didn’t really like MC?

How much does he resent Jack and Janet?

How does he bond/show his love for his sibling?

Also, how would the members of the Batfam bond with MC? (Before and After Damian snitched)

And what do the Batfam think of MC?

- Storm.Anon

Focusing on just Tim for this! Send another ask for other Batfam members owo because I do want to individually dig into each relationship.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

Their relationship is both less complicated and more complicated than it should be. On one hand, you’re Tim's older sister-caretaker-parental figure-best friend- who can’t be categorized neatly into any singular category. On the other hand, none of those categories matter when you are the person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. More than he trusts himself.

Your parents do not hate you. You were an accident (huge, immensely big, giant accident) but they do care for you in some nebulous, difficult to discern, rich-people kind of way. They give you all the money you could want. They teach you the rules of high society and how to deal with the company. They try. Sometimes.

In many ways, you are their protege and student before a lot of things but you are still your mother’s child. A reflection of Janet Drake in every way that matters with a mind like a steel trap and a mouth that murmurs sweet poison. It is one of the main things Tim notes as a child when he thinks of you and mother.

The biggest mark against your parents, really, is the neglect. Their children weren’t their number one priority and both you and Tim knew. They could be worse. They could be better. C+ parenting all around.

Tim’s view on Jack and Janet are a bit fickle? Inconsistent? Complicated? He had wished for a very long time when he was younger for them to come home more often but he never really processed the whole situation until you forced everyone to get therapy. There’s quiet sadness in his feelings about his parents but not really resentment, not like you.

Not that those feelings have anywhere to go anymore. Both of you still grieved during their funerals.

Tim gives you gifts on mother and father's day and overtime the message written in the cards attached get longer and sillier. He still remembers the stillness of your initial reaction when he first presented you with a card.

He hadn't really noticed how much you did behind the scenes until he got older and realized you were internalizing a hell of a lot of things. His early days of existence are marked by your ever encompassing presence in his life. His parents leave. You stay. You always stay even as he digs himself into the pit that is becoming Robin.

He can always rely on you. If there is any truth in his life then it is that you will always be there for him. So, when you tell him with dark shadows cast upon your face that he shouldn't go out as Robin tonight, he accepts with minor protests.

You keep detailed reports on patrol to keep everyone updated when you're filling in as Robin and the ones from Tim's early days are... rough. Tim reads them because of course he does, and talks with you about it. A lot. You insist that he shouldn't have to deal with Batman because Tim is like 13 and Tim keeps saying that he chose this. So, the two of you compromise on it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

No one else really reads the old patrol reports. What happens during the early days stays between you and Tim and Bruce. Tim thinks Bruce still feels guilty about it, about both him and you.

Tim shows affection for you the same way you show affection. He'll go to company meetings in your stead. He learns to cook and bring meals to you when you're too busy. He orders materials for your hobbies whenever he notices you're running out.

Your relationship is not immune to normal sibling shenanigans though. You yell, you fight, he stands a centimetre away from the entrance of your room for no apparent reason, the two of you want to kill each other sometimes because "mother and father always liked you better-" and "I never wanted to raise you-"

You and Tim are so crazily co-dependent even if it isn't obvious. You're a bit less dependent than he is but you've also revolved your life around him and everything you do is basically for him so how true that statement is can be debated.

Sometimes you think you need him in order to be allowed to exist. There is no role for you except in reference to him, to your little brother who you'd give the world to.

Tim literally doesn't know how he'd survive or live without you. You taught him unconditional love. You're his favourite person. You've always protected him. He can't fathom the idea of existing without you.

You're impossible to separate from him and him from you. Aren't the two of you one and the same? Where does one end and the other begin? Who is he if not a reflection of you and who you raised him to be?

Alsjfjak so yeah. The Siblings. Them.

[thesensteawitch]

The High Priestess Wants You To Know This

(Pile 1→ Pile 2→ Pile 3)

Hello beautiful souls!

This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

If you wish to book a reading with me then checkout my:

Rate Card • Booking Form

Ps: You can also DM me in case of any queries. 🌈💛

Sending you love and light ✨🕯️

*******

Here is your reading!

Pile 1

Tarot Cards- Temperance, Two of Cups, Six of Wands, King of Swords, Nine of Swords, The Emperor.

The High Priestess wants you to know that people around you see your efforts and are grateful for your generosity. But what you skip to notice is that you do so much mental and physical work that you forget to relax. You are very patient with the results of your work, but your feminine side needs to be activated now. You can activate it by resting and eating well. Try slow dancing or yoga. Sagittarius, Libra, Cancer, and Leo can be significant. If you're a feminine reading this, then the high priestess wants you to know that you've been very patient when it comes to finding the one. You've never had a masculine support, due to which you sometimes overexert yourself by tapping too much into your masculinity. But I do hear that God is your masculine. While shuffling the deck, I saw in my third eye, “Luck is on your side”—New Moon in Sagittarius, and guess what? The exact card flipped out of the deck! What are the odds? You're divinely protected. Balance will be restored in any situation where masculines have hurt you or you couldn't rely on them. You'll receive the love of your life; just avoid falling into the trap of past people/manipulators. Remember your lessons because the high priestess is warning you that someone from the past may show up again or old wounds of masculinity may come up again. It's going to be a test, so make sure you act according to the lessons you've been made to learn. If you doubt yourself or are afraid that maybe you're the one who is wrong, then that's not true. I see stubborn, too-logical, and aggressive masculine energy around you. I do feel that you have even adopted these qualities or have absorbed these energies unknowingly as you were only focused on surviving. You can let that go now. You've come a long way. Please remember your strength. You're stronger and wiser than you give yourself credit for. This is the last battle with your survival self. Thank it for how it has supported you till now, but don't let it win. You don't need to worry about a thing, so just stay calm. You'll win in LOVE. You'll have that one person who gets you like no one. You've been wronged, so stop giving people the benefit of the doubt. You deserve someone who sees your soul, not someone who falls for superficiality. You've been around people who were full of themselves, and that is why their energies kept lingering around you, forcing you to think about THEM! You may have felt guilty or pressured or doubt your own actions. You may even have ended up gaslighting yourself. I really don't like this energy around you. The High Priestess wants you to consciously focus on yourself and bring your energy back to yourself. Your focus should only be on you. That's all. That's it.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards- Death, Two of Wands, Two of Pentacles, King of Cups, Four of Swords

The High Priestess wants you to know that you cannot avoid the change that is meant to happen. You can delay it but cannot deny it. You still think you've another option or another way while you're on the boat to a different reality. You cannot keep asking the questions regarding a closed door. It won't open. Accept where you are. Just let go of the past. You cannot go back for one last look. Wake up and deal with your emotions. For a while you do not need to do so much. Just take care of your inner world. You may be having weird dreams lately. Your dreams are pointing towards the new reality you're meant to enter. It's a way of your brain to help you release the past. You may even be having dreams about someone who has a lot to say to you, but they cannot decide or make a move. This person may also be confused. Someone here needs to step out of their comfort zone, and the comfort zone is avoiding making the necessary decision. You may be moving back and forth wondering what to do and what not to do. Just don't do what you've been doing all along. Maybe you need to take action toward someone or something, but you're so afraid to take it that now that thing/person is appearing in your dream. Some of you may be afraid to follow your purpose, as it may be the first time you're being given a chance to do what you want to do or what you feel called to do. But the wounds are stopping you or making you guess. The cards ask you to focus on healing yourself and prepare yourself for your purpose/calling. What you've left behind may have been good for a while, but for your further journey, it couldn't assist you. Accept the truth; accept the reality. Don't keep reopening the closed doors; don't make the same choices every day wishing your reality to change.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards- 6 of Cups, 10 of Cups, 7 of Swords, 4 of Cups, The High Priestess

Someone's waiting for you and your message. There's an age gap here, and they are manifesting you consciously or unconsciously. The High Priestess is being very clear about what's happening behind the scenes. Someone's sabotaged their friendship/connection with you. Someone may even drunk text you. What? Someone thinks about you a lot and the way they lied to you or behaved as if they didn't care. The truth is you overwhelm someone. They don't know how to behave in front of you. This can be a past life connection. This can be a secret admirer. They have a lot to say to you. This person can have strong earth sign placements. If there's anything missing in their life, then it's you. I also see that money matters to them a lot, and they are also very stubborn. You have multiple admirers! I feel divine is protecting you from someone so that you can meet the person you're meant to be with. Communication will come your way while you're working or doing your own thing. You and your future person are going to be on the same frequency. You'll be a perfect match. Okay, this stubborn person may even think that you're not receiving enough compared to the efforts you put into your work. This person is very materialistic, and they think they are the king, but in reality they are a page (naive). There's something very mysterious about this person. This stubborn person has never shown you their true side and their goals or about their financial situation. I confirmed with the cards who you're meant to be with, so you're not supposed to give this stubborn person a chance because there's manipulation or sabotage here. What you offer isn't enough for them, and they are always going to see you from their distorted lens. It's another person that the universe wants you to meet and be with. You'll meet them soon. If you were drawn to pile 1, then do check it out (I feel a connection). The stubborn person has made you cry oceans! You're about to receive whatever you expected this stubborn person to be for you or give you. You'll be receiving more than you have asked for because of how kind you've been to the old person. I also heard that the stubborn person's kindness was also calculated. I don't know; this person needs to do some healing. They may even be taking tarot readings on your connection. You, on the other hand, can look forward to a new journey in love and life. The cards are sooo clear in the end! They say it's time to release negativity, and nothing will come of this situation (no matter how much you try to make it work with the stubborn one). At the bottom it says, “A new romantic cycle begins!” Yayyy!

[hees-mine]

L. Heeseung - Wrong One

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, reader slaps heeseung, friends with benefits, alcohol, angst.

Genre: friends with benefits.

WC: 4,582k

-

“Are you staying the night?” You asked heeseung, the guy you’ve been friends with benefits with for four months, as he rolled over on the opposite side of the bed, breathing heavily.

You two had just finished your weekly routine. By routine, you meant the both of you fucking every last ounce of energy out of each other.

He wipes his palm over his face, wiping away the sweat that gathered at his hairline. “Nah,” he says and sighs shortly after. “I never stay, you know that.” he sits up on the bed once he’s regained enough stamina.

“Yeah…. I do know that” you reply disappointedly and pulled the blankets up to your chest while he stands up, searching for all his discarded clothes.

“So….” He starts out rolling the used condom down his shaft and tying it off before tossing it in your trash bin. “I was thinking we could do it at my place next week. My parents are out of town on vacation.” he pulls his boxers around his waist and then grabs his shirt that was thrown off in a corner, slipping it over his head. “That way, we can go for as long as we want and be as loud as we want to.” he turns to you and gives you a flirty wink, to which you only respond with an airy laugh and a forced half smile. “So, what do you think? Will you be coming over?” He questions once he’s fully dressed.

“Y-yeah, I will be.” You try your best to sound convincing like the idea of meeting him just for sex the next week was just as exciting as it was four months ago when this whole friends-with-benefits thing started.

“Okay, I’ll see you next week, don’t be late.” he heads to the door to your bedroom, slipping on his shoes.

“I won’t” you smile half heartedly and without so much as a bye he opens the door leaving you to clean up all by yourself.

“I know,” he smirks. “You can’t resist me.”

-

You on your way? It’s fifteen past ten.

You barely even noticed the alert tone go off on your phone if it wasn’t for the music in the club changing tracks you wouldn’t have.

Rolling your eyes at the screen, you dryly reply.

That was tonight? I totally forgot

You send to him.

How could you forget about me? We’ve been doing this for the past four months without fail.

He sits up on his bed, squinting slightly at his phone screen.

Must’ve slipped my mind once I had a few drinks.

It didn’t, but you couldn’t see him, not because of how you were feeling tonight. You needed some drinks to get your mind off of him, and you’re so glad your friend decided to accompany you as well.

Drinks? How many did you have? And where did you get them from?

He chews on his index fingernail softly while waiting for a reply.

I’m too drunk to answer all that, but I’m out with some friends.

You reply and down another shot, not caring about your missed date with heeseung.

I can come pick you up, give you some water, and we can finish where we left off if you want

That’s okay. I got a ride.

Oh

From who?

His name is Jake, but I really have to go now. I’ll talk to you sometime later.

Text me when you get home.

Heeseung sighed putting his phone aside and sighing. “Just great now what am I gonna do?” He looked down at the tent in his lap and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed you couldn’t make it he literally changed his sheets and took a shower and got his room ready for the occasion only for you to cancel on him.

Oh well, his parents would still be on vacation for another six days, and you and him could make up for lost time, but for now, he was gonna go to bed and try to forget about the bulge in his underwear.

-

Next week arrived, and you still hadn’t gotten together with heeseung at his place nor at school. Even though he texted you every day, you still hadn’t found time to fit him into your schedule at school. You’d always be running “late” or “not feeling well,” and you left all his text on seen, leaving him to believe you were avoiding him.

Especially after it had been two weeks since you hadn’t bothered to get in touch with him, could you really be that busy for two whole weeks?

Luckily he was able to flag you down today before you left school. “Y/n wait up!” He calls and you immediately stop in your tracks and turn around to face him for the first time in weeks you couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Hey,” you smile softly at him.

“Hey,” he says, sorta out of breath from running to catch up to you. “Just wanted to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in quite a while.”

“Yeah, about that, sorry.” You lowered your head, unable to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been busy.”

“I see” he starts to walk beside you. “How about now? Do you got any free time for me?” He turns his head to the side to look at you.

“Sure,” you say, feeling unsure you wanted to be with him. You really did, but you wanted more than just sex, and he couldn’t give that to you. Sadly, he made it obvious, so distancing yourself from him felt like the best decision.

“Good, it’s only been two weeks, but I feel like I’m going crazy without feeling you.” he goes behind your back, hugging you as you both waddle down the street to his home. “Hmm, come to my place,” he whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck as he holds you by your torso. “Please?”

“Okay, hee.” You could feel his lips curling into a smile against your skin.

“Hmm, thank goodness I need to feel you so fucking bad” he nibbles your ear rubbing his cheek against yours as he walks you to his house.

Once you enter his house you trudge upstairs after him the sinking feeling making it’s way to your stomach as much as you wanted him the feeling of knowing you would never be with him fully was making you feel down and you barely even wanted to have this friends with benefits relationship with him anymore.

He kicked off his shoes and tossed his backpack to the side. “Come here baby” he sat down on the bed and patted his lap calling you over to him.

Read full story HERE!

-

[brynn-lear]

Put Another "X" On The Calendar [Yandere Angel of Death!Sunday/Reader]

Unreliable Synopsis: To be rejected by the angel of death himself… you must be heaven's favorite chew toy if he won’t let you die as intended. But this year will be the last time you'd play with his games. [5.6k words]

CW/Tags: gn reader, explicit and detailed suicidal themes, alcohol, very soft yandere angel!Sunday, dead dove: do not eat. Please prioritize your mental health first; you matter more than you think. This is first and foremost an expression/vent of real struggles, not a romanticization of the tags mentioned nor does it promote it as a solution.

𝟒𝟑,𝟖𝟐𝟒 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄. Nostalgia has grown unfamiliar for the past days— you can’t even fathom having the same bitter acknowledgement you had years prior. Someone once said a person shall always remain a stranger to themselves, and you dearly wish you still recall who that was so you could ask if it is in the same degree you feel now. Too often does the mind ask the necessity to get up every morning, until mornings become noons— and finally, evenings. Minimizing your waking hours as much as possible to avoid confronting the state of your own mind and body.

Today is Saturday. Or was it Sunday? You can’t remember. You only remember dates when there’s a deadline. And here you are, with another late submission.

Barely dressed for the snow, you leaned against the cold door.

“You’re here again? Why do I keep finding you here?”

The man turned around.

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗔 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗖𝗢𝗟 (𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠)

I have read and understood this consent form, and I consent to the processing of my personal data. I agree to the inclusion of my anonymized data in research publications and understand I can withdraw my consent at any time. I acknowledge that confidentiality may be breached in cases of high self-harm or suicide risk to ensure my safety, which may involve sharing information with relevant professionals. I also understand that my consent does not affect other lawful grounds for data processing or waive my rights under the Data Privacy Act of ████ and applicable laws.

Client ID: ████████████

1) In the past month, have you wished you were dead or wished you could go to sleep and not wake up?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

It’s him again. The man that keeps hanging around your university’s Architecture Building rooftop. 

He smiled softly. “I could say the same to you.”

Despite the coldness of December, you came here with nothing to shield from it but the blazer your mom bought years ago for her office presentation. This stranger was almost as terrible as you were, in an opposing sense. He was draped all over, but his style seemed almost more overprepared for fall when it’s winter.

You let out a soft noise. 

Sometimes, you look forward to seeing this stranger on the rooftop. 

Trudging towards him, you asked plainly. “Who are you even waiting for?”

“I usually tell people that it’s my sister.”

You decided to ignore his strange phrasing.

“Can’t you two meet elsewhere?” You spat, unable to hide the disdain. Your voice made you cringe. More than anyone, you know how vile and cynical you truly are, but to let it be known now is counterintuitive. “I’m sure there are better meeting spots. Dreamjolt Cafe’s just around the corner.”

The stranger looked down, his eyes almost fluttering shut with a tense gulp. “I suppose there are more convenient locations. But…”

“But?”

He stared at you. His bright golden eyes that many complimented in your view looked as dull as the snow. No doubt he’s beyond human. This handsome stranger has no right to exist. He only serves to remind you how much you lacked while also blocking the sweet release you’ve been chasing.

Sometimes, you wish he was as lonely as you.

“But to leave is to take away far more than just promise,” he whispered but no breath painted the air. “To leave is to let someone down. Somehow, I feel as though I do not need to explain this to you.”

“You don’t have to.” You said out of disinterest.

“Other than that, I enjoy coming here and staring at the sky. The sight here reminds me of my purpose.” He stared at you intensely. “There's always a paradise that needs to be built. That vow is like the sun in the sky— perhaps I'll melt and fall before reaching it... But some hardships I must endure."

He took off his scarf and reached it out to you.

You blinked, raising a hand in protest. “No need.”

“I need it the least. Take it. You’re cold.”

Most days, you wish you could make him as lonely as you. 

“I don’t feel anything and I don’t like owing anyone anything.” The words slip out of you easily.

You don’t want to extend your time here for a random stranger.

“I know.” He muttered. “But still, take it. If I’m not careful, it may just be the only physical thing I can leave behind.”

For a moment, the sun and earth were silenced. You took the scarf, circling the soft fabric with your fingers. It was azure with speckled star patterns, ranging from complex to the most simple X-s and dots. You didn’t say another word. It was understood from then on that you both might’ve come here for the same reason. The rooftop was the haven for when the physical conditions that existence brings are met with crushing defeat. If he asked you the same question you had moments prior, you’d have but one reply:

It’s the tallest building on campus; I came here for the view.

With dissipating reluctance, he approached you and wrapped the scarf around your neck. His gloved fingers were shaking, but you made no comment. As you stare up, you’re greeted with the sight of his flushed cheeks and pursed lips. Yet, you’ve no motivation to return the scarf. 

Maybe the frostbite makes him feel a little more alive too.

As if to affirm your suspicions, he took off his own gloves. The act made the skin he hid with the long sleeves of his jacket visible. It was not your intent to be nosy, yet you saw the bandages wrapped around him. Gauze pads in places you’d expect it to be. The sight must’ve distracted you long enough, since the moment you looked at your own hands— it wore the black gloves he donned.

You’re wearing his scarf and gloves— he has nothing. No fur, no anything. Just him and a black coat, white shirt, and pants. Yet his limbs did not tremble. The temperature had no effect on him.

Finally, he gave you his name. 

“You can call me… Sunday. And you?”

Sunday.

You blinked. “Like the day after Saturday?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Exactly like the day after Saturday.”

With that, you decided you do not like him.

Call it competitiveness, call it frustration— name the emotion for whatever is convenient— but there’s no pleasant note to describe him. Objectively and instinctively, Sunday is predictably a good man. But the maggots that crawl inside you scream just how much he has no place in your life. They writhe behind your eyelids, burning with an unspoken illness that wanted him miserable.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).” You answered. “Realbrook Dorms. Room 404.”

To die beautifully and meaningfully. You don’t have that privilege.

Sunday’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why did you tell me that?”

The dorm may just be the only physical thing you can leave behind.

“I don’t know.” You laughed, averting your gaze.

“Just in case you want your scarf back, I suppose.”

And you know what?

You’re sure he knows that you’re broken, too.

2) In the past month, have you actually had any thoughts about killing yourself?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

3) Have you been thinking about how you might do this?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛��𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧— but the higher beings routing out pest control. Entering the classroom filled with those bright and beautiful, those who were born to be who their program says they are, has patted you with the crown of envy.

No amount of pomodoros, no higher statistic in your Focus Plant app, can make you even a fraction of their genius. Depressing, but true. 

How can you even compete with a room of intellectual gatekeepers?

You’d ask a question, hoping to learn, and all they hand out is a vague response. Not an explanation, but enough for them to say “oh, but I replied, haven’t I?”

These Penaconian Science High School graduates surely are the cream of the crop, and they won’t spare other people’s hopes and dreams to get what they want. 

It’s fine, you tell yourself. This is a highly competitive university. You expected this. It has a name. Your tuition is free. Everyone is a scholar. You just have to hold your breath and live through this. For the future you promised your loved ones.

Of course, assuming you can exhale after 3 more years. Assuming you still have a beating heart inside.

You bought another notebook today after you lost your previous one. The old one’s probably hidden under your “organized mess”. 

But at least you can force yourself to write good things again.

𝟷𝟸.𝟶𝟿.𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺

𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝟼𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔.

Walking, not running or jogging, is the only healthy hobby you have. Writing consumes you while art reminds you of your worthlessness. It’s a short sentence, but that’s fine. That’s why you bought a pocket sized notebook in the first place. 

Having that as a first entry is 3 miles better than a detailed plan of which sea you’ll last disappear to.

4) Have you had these thoughts and had some intention of acting on them?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲. You opened your dorm room. Thankfully, as it was the only stroke of luck you had that day, none of your roommates were around. You let your bag slid from your shoulders down with a loud thud.

For a few minutes, you squandered it salting the hard boiled eggs you bought with your own tears.On the floor no one was industrious enough to sweep, you sat. You had no energy to climb up your bed. It was just you and awkward silence. 

It’s Christmas season.

You have no good memories of it. You barely left your room.

Maybe you should’ve known that every December would compete for which year was the worst. The best December had to be the year when you’d receive terrible exchange gift presents like cheap junk food while you and your mother chipped in to buy a great gun toy. Then the worst was your first christmas without that family member you were closest to. When you’re reminded how deeply grief can cut through while everyone’s in good cheer.

There’s a knock on your door. 

Quickly, you put your jacket back on and wiped your nose. You twisted the doorknob open, already feeling terrible for the housekeepers. They often report to your parents when they decide to visit. So you’ll just slip in your excuse in the middle of the conversation.

“Hi, sorry Miss Rena, I’m sick right now— cold, really. Did I accidentally leave my water bottle on the study hall again—”

“Good evening, (Y/n). May I trouble you for a moment?”

You flinched at the familiar but oddly placed sound.

“Sunday?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “How did you— oh, right, I did tell you what my dorm was.”

Here he was again. You had half the mind to think he would only spawn on the rooftop, but you were wrong.

“It’s rather reckless of you, and I hope you will refrain from doing that to other men.” 

There was a dark tilt in his tone and his gaze matched it perfectly. Years ago, that could’ve put shivers down your spine. But you no longer care for most things.

You can only mimic a nervous laugh. Mimicking what you would’ve sounded if you still cared for your own safety.

Sunday offered you a small smile.

“How many times do you walk per day this month?”

“Huh?”

What a strange question.

He looked at the window. “Let’s walk outside. You haven't done ten thousand steps in a day for quite a while now.”

“What a rude assumption.” You scoffed.

“Was I wrong?” He asked, but the innocent tone made you second guess the teasing nature of his words.

If you two were close, your roommate’s unsuspecting pillows would’ve hit him square on the face. Sunday opened your wardrobe and grabbed the scarf you gave him.

…Why does he know where you kept it?

He opened the door wider.

“Come on,” he replied. “Let’s take a walk.”

You don’t know why, but your guard is always down when you’re with him.

Maybe you no longer have any sense of self-preservation. Which makes sense, given your real goal. However, unlike most, you do not love being loved. Being cared for ultimately turns into a debt to be repaid in your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t stop Sunday when he wrapped the scarf snugly around your neck. 

The two of you walked around the area. Sometimes, he’d talk about the people, animals, and objects of nature that piqued both your interest. Despite being nearly strangers, he was oddly calming to be around. 

Sunday held your hand as you both walked, like it was a matter of time till it crumbled. His eyes had this persistent pleading you refused to acknowledge. Even in silence, it was asking you the worst request.

To stay alive.

“Why did I cross your mind?” You asked him. “Why did you suddenly visit my dorm?”

He stopped walking.

“... Instinct.”

“Instinct?”

“Just a feeling, that something might…” He muttered a word nearly inaudible. “If I was away. Humans are not perfect individuals. Quite the contrary, their hearts are filled with contradictions at every moment.”

Sunday’s gaze softened, hurt.

“Which is why, even if you tell me you are doing fine, I am inclined to believe that the opposite is the case.”

“...I see.”

You subtly tried to get out of his hold, but he didn’t let you go.

“Why do you care?” You continued walking, and he resumed too. He always matched your walking speed. That in itself felt nice. That someone would adjust for you, that is. 

“I believe it’s… human nature to care.” Sunday hummed. “Listening has always been my job.”

You laughed. “I guess so.”

Quietly, you took note of that.

“Here.” Sunday pointed at the benches.”Let’s take a rest.”

The university nearby— not yours— just installed more carved wooden benches. When he sat down, it felt like it was made for him. Quietly, you sat down beside him. He sits up straight, unlike you. You’re hunched back, fiddling with your hands as though there was an invisible toy that stole your attention.

Sunday sighed softly. "The evening light does tend to settle the heart, does it not? A quiet reminder that even the longest days must come to their end."

You looked at the sky.

"I guess. The day ends, but what comes after doesn’t feel much different.” You chuckled. “Same old suffering.”

“Perhaps there is something in the simple act of continuing. Something... precious in that.” He said. “We all walk our own paths. Though it may be lonely, as long as we keep moving forward, we won't forget each other.”

"Sure, if you're feeling masochistic enough in waiting for something that never comes." You huffed. "I've grown past that phase. Multiple times."

“Life has a way of leading humans in circles, only to place us where they are meant to be, even if they cannot yet see it."

“And spoiler alert, I’m not meant much for anything.” You looked up to meet his gaze. 

“But thank you, anyway. It’s nice to have a brief respite, even if it comes from the man I keep spotting on the rooftop.”

“And I’ll continue to materialize there if you refuse to have a truce with yourself.” He half-chided, half-teased. “I am the only one who truly understands you, who knows the depth of your heart, even when you can’t bear to look at it yourself. And until you no longer go to the roof to see the view from up there, I’ll continue to linger.”

There’s a blank expression on your face. An expression no human should be able to read.

But he can.

“(Y/n), if you need anything. I’ll be there. As I always have.” Sunday looked back at the winter sky. 

“And I’ll remind you of that everyday if I have to. Because that is what I choose to do. If I’m forced to take you, I—” Sunday closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

You’re not smart, but you understood what this was about.

You’re his.

You may not "know" him, but you’re his reason. His only reason.

And wishing for death threatens all his plans.

5) Have you started to work out or worked out the details of how to kill yourself? Did you intend to carry out this plan?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 just as you were making weak attempts to tug the sleep you’ve been missing for 5 years. There’s supposed to be an Engineering BINGO event today. You skipped it and thanked the campus for once that there’s no classes. Your rough, useless hand frantically attempted to hang up as if it’s no different from snoozing an alarm. But it was Hailee. The only person who ever regularly talks to you.

You answered, voice groggy at 3 PM.

“Heyyy (Y/n), where are you?”

“Hail—” you muttered. “Just sleeping.”

“You’re not coming? Cocona just won an IPad!”

“Good for her, good for her.” You didn’t really register what she said. “Since there’s no class I figured I’d just sleep in, you know?”

“Ah, yeah, I get that. I lowkey wanna go home too, but Max is having fun.”

“Yeah.” You yawned. 

“Hey, kinda random, but I just passed by Madeleine earlier.”

“Yeah well she’s always everywhere all at once.”

“Sure, but she was at the registrar.” Hailee paused. “She’s getting a transcript of records, I think.”

“What for?”

“I think she wants to transfer.”

You sat up.

“Really? Well, shit. I want in, too.”

“Yeah, same.” Hailee’s tone turned serious. “I want out of this hellhole too.”

“Hey Hailee?”

“Yuh?”

“I’ll call you back.”

“Oh, okay, sur—”

You messaged Madeleine.

You paused.

Why are you telling her this.

You and her barely talked.

You and Madeleine messaged each other more for a while. Each notif was a half-hearted argument against going through both plans. Words of how neither of you should go through it leaning as a suggestion rather than a real conviction. You'd agree, but you both know it’s just words. 

She didn’t mention her reasons outside academics, and you didn’t mention yours.

The hesitation lingers, but you both danced around it, sending stickers of people hugging, pretending you'll back out, even though you know you both know you won’t. Neither of you is truly convinced, and yet, the conversation went on a seemingly positive note.

It’s fine.

At least now, you know, that you aren’t the only one who tried their hardest with nothing to return to.

But there’s a voice in your head telling you no. 

It doesn’t belong to you. It is not your voice.

Yet it begged and begged.

Please, don’t do it.

And for now, you’ll pretend you’ll listen to him too.

6) Have you engaged in, attempted, or planned any actions with the intention of ending your life? Examples: Taking pills, attempting to shoot yourself, self-harm (e.g., cutting), attempting hanging, taking pills but not swallowing, holding a gun but changing your mind or having it taken away, going to a high place but not jumping, gathering pills, acquiring a weapon, giving away belongings, writing a will or suicide note, etc.

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠. No one asked you to draw, but you figured since the man on the chair heavily recommended you get back to your old hobbies, you’d draw the people who consider you as a friend. So, you strayed from sketching topics that lead the mind wandering. 

You stared at the screen blankly.

Genuinely, you were caught off guard.

Careful. Don’t fool yourself that a small “thank you” means they would be there for you. You’ve been here before. Don’t be a pushover.

You closed your eyes.

No, thank you, Monica.

“Just a few more.” You muttered. “Just a few more portraits. Just one more holiday greeting. Just one more late video animatic birthday gift for Alex that I didn’t give weeks ago. And then—”

You can finally pardon yourself with the right to die.

Don’t.

Please don’t.

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…

Your messenger app crashed.

…

You turned off your phone.

7) If yes, was this within the past 3 months?

🟥 YES

⬛ NO

You blinked.

A hand. A hand reaching out that isn’t “Sunday”?

Really?

You laughed.

You laughed so loudly, you’d be glad if you remembered the fact that no one was around. 

It just feels so inhumane.

It is inhumane. 

So inhumane, that you felt offended for the last shred of humanity you thought you no longer had.

You cackled, feeling a drop on the back of your wrist.

The one time someone actually noticed you did not feel well. 

And they worry about someone else. 

You are such a fucking joke.

Your body shook, laughing at this unintentional cruelty. Air-like bile rises up your throat— your eyes burning. A few more laughter escaped your turtle lipped mouth. You couldn’t tear your pained gaze away from the screen. You wiped your eyes.

The funniest bit?

Crying won’t change a damn thing.

It’s nearly 2025, and no good thought crossed your mind.

Just like your father said: everything is evil, it’s only a question of how much you’ll let the devil consume you.

Today is Tuesday. Or was it Wednesday? The man doesn't care to remember. He only remembers dates when there’s a deadline. And here he was, arriving at 11:59 pm. Just in time to stop another would-be tragedy. 

Barely dressed for the snow, “Sunday” leaned against the cold door, almost out of breath.

“You're here. Why must I keep finding you here…”

His purpose turned around.

It’s you. His ward that keeps hanging around the university’s Architecture Building rooftop… Now standing on top of your parents’ roof. 

You frowned deeply, tipping your weight slightly. “I could say the same to you.”

Before Sunday could utter a word, your phone buzzed. 

You grimaced as you saw the alarm. “Won't you look at thaaaat?! It's already 2 am. I'm so fucking stupid. I must've thought I set an alarm for 12 instead of 2.”

“Yes… Happy New Year, (Y/n). I hope your 2025 will be blessed.” Sunday spoke softly. His heart raced as he made slow movements to approach you. The man hoped he'd be close enough to pull you away from the edge.

“How much did you drink?”

You cackled.

“Weren't you already supposed to know the answer to that,” you slurred. “Septimus? THE Bronze Melodia?”

That was the exact moment… when your former guardian angel learned what it felt like for blood to run cold.

Once a guardian angel alongside his sister, Septimus was a protector of humanity, driven by a belief that he alone could heal the world’s ills. His perceived purpose blinded him of what was humanity’s true will, until the heavens cast him out for overstepping. Stripped of his former glory, he became the Angel of Death, his once-bright feathers now hidden in bandages. With each soul he reaped, the haunting melody of his fall lingers, a reminder of a savior who couldn't save himself.

And so, he only hoped that he could save you.

His one and lonely human.

Stirred awake were your memories when you first saw him on that rooftop. Even then, you knew who he was. It was the same fledgeling who kept you company in your silent home. The boy who listened to you talk for hours while everyone else “felt” a ghost. 

No matter how much he tried to look like the image of comfort, he would never be the character you used to love, in the same vein you can never return to the bright cheer you used to have.

“(Y/n), please…” Sunday begged. “Get off the roof.”

“My parents are asleep.” You hummed. “It’s 2 am. I’m on liquid courage. This is the only chance I won’t chicken out.”

“H-How did you know?” He asked. “Who I am?”

“I’m smart when it comes to things that don’t matter,” you cackled. “But ask me how to draw up a diagram for a unit process and I got absolutely nothing.”

You took a step back, which made Sunday take one harsh step forward. “DON’T.”

“Septimus, is it true?” You laughed again. “That you’re an angel of death?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t you taken me yet? Does God have other plans?”

“T… Truth is, you should’ve died long ago.”

You’re not surprised.

“When I tried to open my guts with scissors, or when I tried to hang myself?” You huffed.

“Longer than that. I had to always snatch you away from your fate so you could have the chance to live on.” The angel spoke, voice weary. “I want to see you live another day. It’s what stripped me out of your guardianship in the first place.”

Once again, you’re not surprised.

“So it’s you…”

The anger in your voice was almost tangible. 

“So you’re the reason why I’m alive.” Your eyes twitched. “It’s you who kept stopping me.”

Sunday raised a hand. “I-I just, I want you to live long enough to see that a paradise can still be built—”

“My paradise is the ocean I want to drown myself in.” You spat. “Don’t talk about paradise when you know I can’t reach it.”

Sunday’s eyebrows furrowed. “That is not true—”

“Who else?”

“Who… else?” 

He’s taking ragged breaths. 

You knew it. Your hypothesis was right.

Keeping you alive is turning the angel of death human.

Many say angels do not have free will.

But this is what he chose to do.

Suddenly, his words on the roof made sense. Why he desperately wanted you to keep his scarf. Maybe there’s truth to it. Angels do not lie. Perhaps if he failed, he would’ve turned into ash and not human. 

Most days, you wished you could make him as lonely as you. 

Looks like in the end, you got what you wanted.

“Who else wants (Y/n) (L/n) to live to see another day?” You asked.

“Plen— some.” Septimus corrected his lie. “Some will want you to keep pushing forward.”

“Will, not would. Will is too late for anything.”

“Will because you don’t give them a chance to show they care.” He argued.

“They’d rather see me in a coffin than put in any real effort.”

“Why,” his voice croaked. “Why do you only assume the worst in people?”

“You know why. You know every ‘why’ there is.”

He inhaled sharply. They say to translate your thoughts and dreams into a creativity worth plagiarizing. Yet, when you’re one foot on the roof and one foot out the metaphorical door, you didn’t give a shit on becoming artistically verbose.

“No wonder I’ve never broken a bone.” You laughed. “And damn, I’d rather take a broken bone than whatever hell you’re putting me through.”

Sunday was close enough to touch you.

“Because despite everything, you are still you.” Sunday cooed, trapping you in his arms. “And as the being who loves you more than anyone—- who knows you when you are a stranger to your own self— I would know this.”

He pulled you closer by tugging your scarf. The same scarf he gave you.

And pushed you until you’re away from the edge.

“There is no sufficient reason enough for you to take your life.”

Sinfully, Sunday leaned your faces closer to once another. You smelled like wine. Sleep deprivation has made a lightweight out of you.

You shook, your voice taking a tone unfamiliar to you. Raw. Loud. There was frustration in it, which was the most harrowing emotion of all. 

“And so what? My problems aren’t bad enough— that I’m just a fucking loser who can’t get their shit together like EVERYONE ELSE? THAT MY OWN BODY GIVES UP ON ME?! TO THE POINT I FIND MYSELF PASSED OUT SLEEPING ON THE DIRTY FLOOR OF OUR UNIVERSITY’S FUCKING DRAWING ROOM?!”

“I—”

“I know what you’re thinking, it’s either one of two things. If you’re anyone else, you think I’ve matured too early, too fast, and if you’re just like my father, then I haven’t matured fast enough for you— isn’t that right?! I know what the FUCK that look is!”

You grabbed the collar of his shirt. 

“No one— NO ONE— fucking truly cares for me. No one PRAYS for me. You know the only people that I talk to nowadays?! Pixels. Fucking. PIXELS!!! So called people with faces I’ve never seen, just texts I have to imagine— just voices I have to convince myself are real. A human connection but not quite. And you know the amount of fucks they actually give?!”

It’s only then that you noticed your hands shaking, but that awareness only tightened your hold. 

“I can paint them a portrait as many as they want. I can greet them, make them laugh a bunch, but at the end of the day I’m hanging out where I don’t b-belong.” White knuckles. Short breaths. “I can listen, I can give people the time of day, but if you ask them what I’m going through, they don’t know jack shit. And there's my campus life, or lack thereof. Where do I even begin with that?!”

“I’ve sacrificed…” Your grip loosened. “I’ve sacrificed true friends, I’ve sacrificed time with family, sacrificed the remaining time I could’ve spent next to a dying loved one. I sacrificed my time, my literal blood, sweat, tears, and most importantly time— for a dream I was never meant to reach. Every morning I could’ve slept, every 6 hours I should’ve rested, there’s nothing. Nothing for a program I shouldn't have taken. And now they’re gone. One is even six feet under.”

You dropped your hold on him.

43,826 system hours.

“Let me through.”

Sunday breathed in shakily. “No.”

“Let me fucking through, Septimus.”

“Do you remember what I told you when we first had a proper conversion?” He retorted, breathless. “To leave is to let someone down, and I meant it literally. I shall not allow this. (Y/n), you just need someone to talk to.”

“And it’s not going to be you!” You laughed at his face. “Or anyone! There is NO ONE who can reach me, Septimus, there’s nothing that can fix THIS anymore.”

“Please, just hold on to me.” Sunday knew you were no longer hearing him. He knew there was nothing to be done. But he clung to your clothes— clawed your back— rested his face on your shoulder. “I have nothing to offer you but myself.”

“Let me destroy myself.” Palms clamming up. Heart racing. “Let me end this.”

“Please, just… █████ █.” He leaned in to a degree you can’t feel anything but inches of his skin. “Just give me till █████ █ to prove to you that each day is worth living. Don’t take your life away for me.”

Sunday cried. His tears were warm, normal. 

“I-I would much rather be human than an angel of death, so I could take care of you.” He wept, holding you closer— back in his embrace. “For I love you with all I have. No other had made me feel this way.”

…

…

…

You fell silent.

“Until █████ █?”

With closed eyes and thin lips, he nodded reluctantly. 

“Until █████ █.”

Your shoulders relaxed, and with a heavy chest, you felt like you regained the ability to cry again.

Thud… Thud… Thud...

Faint, but even faint is enough.

“(Y/n).” Sunday— Septimus called out with a voice that finally reached you. With trembling lips, he cupped your cheeks. His golden eyes blocked the shade of the dullest moon. In that moment, he was the only light you cling to, and it will remain so until the date he has given. “Let me be your north star, your steady hand. Let me take care of you if you cannot take care of yourself.”

Wonderful, if true. But the maggots gnaw deep in your skin. Whatever affection he has for you must be unreal and unfounded. A dove catching a worm underneath its pointed claws when it was to crawl to the nearest cliff. There’s a glimmer so conflicted in his eyes. A lucid thought running in a path that circles both his ego and conscience. A truth he doesn’t speak aloud.

He’s selfish.

Sunday doesn’t want you alive for the sake of living. The still surface of the water should’ve moved if so. There would’ve been another angel— another song singing praises of life to lift you up. But it was only him. Always him. 

He wants you to live for him.

He wants (Y/n) (L/n) to live for the angel of Death. 

Selfish.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

But Sunday— Septimus— whatever this foul beast was— he knew that he’s wrong. He knows that what he has done has crossed another heavenly line. He knew that you were past your date. He knew he takes too much pleasure in seeing you alive because he allowed it.

Yet the heavens would rather see you suffer than have you take your life again. 

(Y/n)...

He loves you. More than everyone in the world.

But even he doesn't PRAY for you.

You laughed again.

“█████ █.”

You leaned against his chest.

“You've set the date, and I'll patiently wait.” You replied. “By █████ █, you'll do the work, that was your promise. Septimus, I'm tired of taking my own life, so do your job.”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry…” Sunday mumbled. His shaky breath was more human than you could ever be. “I won't prolong your suffering anymore. I'm sorry. I’ll hold your breath, just as the heavens intended.”

“It's fine.” 

You've had your solace. The answer you've been looking for since you were young.

43,826 system hours.

And just 1,512 bit more.

“Cause every X on the calendar would make me feel a bit more okay.”

Hotline

[sugusat]

Saturo Gojo x Reader

Post-Apocalyptic Survival: In a world overrun by curses, you team up with Gojo to survive. His cocky attitude keeps you somewhat entertained, but his rare moments of vulnerability make you wonder what else he has hidden under that blindfold.

Slight enemies to lovers, gojos a goof and lowkey down bad but reader is angsty af from saving everyone. Pesismistic reader, eventual smut. Oral, grinding? Gojo calls reader Peach!

The long abandoned buildings creaked and swayed as rats scuttled across the ground in the afternoon sun. You and Gojo had been walking for hours now, hell bent on making your way back to camp where you and a group of survivors had been banding together to try and defeat the dominating curses once and for all.

You had both gotten lost on a run for supplies, overwhelmed by high-level curses that had attacked.

The camp would be wondering where you both were now, and you weren’t liking the look of that nasty gash on Saturos ribs that he had received in turn for defending you. With Gojo still weak from the fight, you didn't like the idea of being out here vulnerable any longer than you needed to be.

He was such an idiot sometimes.

"Come onnn Peach, we've been walking for hours. Can we pur-leasE take a break." Gojo sighed as he dragged his feet across the mudded road.

"For the last time, no! We need to get into the woods whilst we have the daylight, the curses will be coming out to play soon and I do not want another run-in. Besides, I'm estimating the camp is only around 1 hour from here." You sighed as you continued walking, ignoring the ache in your feet and trying to not become too paranoid as the dark woods came into view.

This was good, you would be more covered on this part and have more areas to hide. You would get home shortly and then could have some well-needed space from Gojo.

All these thoughts ran through your head as you sent Gojo silent daggers through the back of his head.

"Ya know I can feel you glaring at me from here, it wouldn't kill you to say thank you. You know.. for saving your life and all."

You snorted at this, "What you did was foolish, you are the strongest one here and yet you came on this stupid supply run and nearly died stopping curses I could have handled." You muttered the last part as you knew you couldn't have handled those curses alone, but you weren't ready to admit that yet.

Since the curses had taken over 5 years ago, the world had fallen into disarray. With limited communications and more people dying every day, the fight was hard. But this didn't seem to have stopped Gojo's infernal positivity, no he seemed entirely unaffected by the years and it was infuriating.

"Yeah sure Peach, you could have handled that all by yourself, forgive me for making an error in judgement. Next time, you handle the big bad demons all by yourself. " His words seemed more agitated now and his movements had become sluggish with every step.

You moved to stand in front of him, and he staggered as if he hadn't noticed you had even gotten ahead of him. "You're burning up, I think that curses blade was poisoned. Fuck." You sighed as he began to sway.

"Hmhm Peach I'm fine, lets just rest awhile yeah?" Gojo mumbled as he leaned his forehead further into your hand.

"No, we need to keep moving, come on.. Just loop your arm around mine and tell me something, k-keep talking to me," You insisted hesitantly as you began to pull Gojo a bit quicker through the muddy forest. Using what little reversed technique you knew to try and heal him. If you made it back, you needed to remember to thank Shoko for showing you a few tricks.

"I think that's the first time you've ever asked me to speak, rather than shouting at me to shut the hell up. Are you sure you're not the one with the fever Peach?" Gojo smirked as his steps began to match your pace but his weight noticeably leaned into you.

You laughed at this, just satisfied he was still walking and talking. The camp wasn't far, you could do this. Sure - It was only the strongest.. close to passing out in your arms.. Gods, what would the camp think if you got him killed? Then where would you all be, and a small part of yourself couldn't deny how awful it would be to not have his annoying optimism around all the time.

"I thought we were supposed to be talking Peach, " Gojo breathlessly said as he floppily turned his head to yours, his eyes hidden beneath the fabric on his head. "We are! We're all fine. Everything will be fine." You spoke more to yourself than him.

"Heh, I know it will be Peach" Gojo said as he began to walk with a bit more strength, "because I've got you. You really think any of us would be still here without ya saving us all the time Peach?" Gojo said as a lazy smile graced his face.

This was strange, Gojo and you tormented each other but you were sure over the last five years he had never acknowledged your leadership in the camp or how you tirelessly worked towards keeping everyone alive and stopping the curses once and for all.

You were silent in this, unsure what to say. "Why do you call me Peach?" You asked, wanting to steer the topic away from his strange vulnerability at the minute.

"Heh, I've always called you Peach. Do I need a reason?." Gojo laughed as he staggered slightly across a small fallen branch on the ground. You steadied him with your arm and pulled him closer, the camp wasn't far now.

"C-come on, just a bit longer Saturo.." Gojo seemed to wake at this, "What did you call me?" He asked in a hazy confusion, "Your name silly, we're nearly there." "Ye-yeah, right. Nearly there," Gojo muttered as you continued to walk, Gojo leaning into you still.

"I call you Peach because when we first met, before all of this, you were so shy and awkward. You would go pink as a peach whenever we spoke, but now.. you're so different.."

"Bad different?" You snorted as you glanced up at the tall white-haired boy.

"N-no, never. You keep us all alive, heh- I've never known someone so stubborn to fight for this world.." You held your breath, the only sound of both footsteps in the quiet woods to fill the air. Gojo sighed, the poison clearly fighting back against the healing energy.

"I guess it's just nice to hold on to something that could have been ya-know? Everything is changing every day and it can feel so scary, but if I can still call you Peach and maybe tease a lil, then I guess it's not too bad right?"

You glanced down at the ground, processing Saturos small confession. You always thought he was an arrogant fool, too powerful to understand what it was like to fear death every day. Too busy laughing and making jokes to understand the gravity of what you were all doing here, fighting back. But maybe you had been the one to judge too quickly, maybe this was just how Gojo coped with everything. Just how you leading the camp and fixing everyone, helped you feel a bit more in control.

"Come on, we're here. Shoko is going to pull that poison out of you and you'll be back to your usual teasing self." You said with an eye roll, dismissing the curious conversation.

"Hmhm..home sweet home.." Gojo muttered as he almost fell into the protective wall that kept the camp safe.

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

After dropping a babbling Gojo into the arms of Nanami and Shoko, you quickly made your way to the small 2 room quarters you had been provided many years ago. The camp consisted of a series of shacks and some larger buildings for a food hall, medical and defence, it wasn't much but it was home.

Now resting on the tiny beaten table in what could be called the living room, you tried to get comfortable as you poured over war strategies in books and any possible weapons for defeating curses.

A knock sounded at the old wooden door. Your head whipped around at the sudden sound, and the door began to creak open. Immediate panic ran through you as you moved for the cursed-infused dagger resting on the table and stood to attack. But as quickly as you were standing, the door opened fully and a mop of white hair bobbed into the room, ducking down, clearly too tall for the shack's rickety door.

"Woah-woah, I come in peace alright, jesus, and I thought we liked each other now,”

Gojo laughed as he held his hands in the air and looked you up and down. His mask now abandoned and his captivating six eyes staring into your soul. You calmed your breathing, glaring at his back as you placed the knife on the table and Gojo slowly shut the door behind him.

"You ass! Can see you're back to your usual self now," You snarled, angry at yourself for reacting. Reading about war strategies and demons for two hours in silence would make any girl jumpy.

"So this is how you spend your nights.." Gojo smirked as he took in the worn shack filled with aged volumes and archives containing vital information about the war you were fighting, usually swapped between you and Nanami. Weapons scattered the floors and more clutter accumulated over the years. Small drawings littered the door of a long broken fridge, which caught Gojo's eye as he walked over to observe.

"Make yourself at home.." You muttered as Gojos eyes skimmed the collection of sketches from another life, along with some children's drawings. "Wow, you really are talented, seriously if art museums still existed this would be a home run." Gojo laughed as he picked up a splotchy painted drawing, clearly done by one of the small children you helped train and not yourself.

You snatched the drawing from his hand and placed it on the counter, "What do you want Saturo..?" You were so tired after being nearly eaten by curses, saving Gojo and pouring over those beaten books. You weren't in the mood for his teasing.

"Hey it's been a long day but um, I guess I just wanted to say thanks alright? I guess you saved both of our asses today and I appreciated it."

Gojo said awkwardly as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, his muscles flexing through the tight t-shirt he now wore. You could see the lining of where the bandage ran around his ribs.

You were clearly sleep deprived if you were admiring Gojos muscles, you shook your head. Clearing the fog.

"Uh, yeah it's fine I guess. I mean you hah-you saved us first, and it wasn't much." You mumbled, feeling an awkwardness from the vulnerability again. You weren't used to this.

"I guess the Peach name still counts.." Gojo smirked as he stared at you and your slightly flushed cheeks.

"Ass" you muttered as you turned to sit at the table. As you sat down, Gojo started to follow but instead of sitting down on the other remaining chair, he knelt in front of you.

"Look I mean it, thank you. And I'm sorry if you don't think I take things seriously Peach, because I do, trust me. But sometimes it's nice to remind you that life can still be fun ya know?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed but Gojo placed a large hand on your thigh and pulled your body back to face his kneeling form. "You don't always have to be the strong one Peach. You deserve joy as well, you know... ”

And you didn't know what to do with those words, it was as if five years of pressure and fighting came crashing down on you all at once. You felt the breath be sucked out of your lungs at someone seeing you, and you were so tired. So tired of running, of fighting, of making the decisions. But you weren't ready to face that just yet, and you hadn't realised you had knelt forward, your face now so close to Gojo's who silently watched you.

Tears threatened to spill in your eyes but you couldn't deal with it, couldn't stand it. So you did the only thing you could, you kissed Saturo. His initial shock reflecting through the kiss, his lips unmoving against yours and it was as if time had slowed down.

And oh god, this was a mistake. What were you doing? Why were you kissing him, but then he was moving the hand on your thigh to grab at your hip and ghosting his other across your jaw. Parting your legs to lean in further on his knees he pulled the chair closer and kissed you back with a force you had never expected. He groaned into the kiss, which surprised you even further and surprised you how much you liked that noise from his lips, and how you would do anything to hear it again.

As his tongue pushed past your lips you let out a small moan and allowed him to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. Lips crashing together, his tongue moved around your mouth desperate to taste more of you. The hand on your jaw now snaked into your hair as small mewls fell from your lips between breaths.

"Fuck Peach, you're something else.." Your arm moved around to his thick white hair as you pulled slightly and that delicious noise crept up from his throat again.

Gojo broke the kiss to stand but quickly pulled you up from the chair and began to scatter kisses all across your neck. Sucking lightly and nipping wherever he felt was right. His hands now stroking your hips, wanting to make this moment last forever. You let out small moans of pleasure at the feel until you needed more, "Hmhm Touru please.."

"Fuck Peach, say-ah-say that again," Gojo murmured into your neck as he roughly pulled your hips against his.

"Tou-hm-ru" you muttered as you began to pull at his arms, his hair, his neck. Anything, you needed to feel more. You needed more of him.

"Peach, let me make you feel good yeh? I can do that, let it be about you okay, Peach." Gojo whispered as he continued placing kisses across your shoulders. He said it so gently it made you feel sick, this was such a strange day but the contact felt so good and you just wanted to forget. To be that girl again from 5 years ago who had a secret crush on the Saturo Gojo and not the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

You pulled him to the room other room where a small bed was situated in the middle and nothing more. He nipped at your neck as he lightly pushed you down and then caged you in on top. Dipping back to your lips, tongues tangling against each other as you arched into him. Quiet moans fell from your lips at the light friction, your pussy growing wetter by the minute with each grind.

"Heh, so responsive Peach." Gojo breathlessly laughed as he nipped at your lip. "Can I make you feel good Princess, can I do that for you?"

"Hmhm, yes please," You muttered as your hips grinded into Gojos again. "Uh s-shit, I've wanted you for so long Peach" Gojo muttered as his hips thrust down in response, his cock now painfully hard in his dark pants.

Gojo grabbed your chin and moved your restless head to meet his eyes, "Tell me you want this Peach, tell me you want this and I'll make you forget everything for tonight" "Hm fuck, please Touru, need you," not allowing yourself to process his previous words.

Gojo didn't hesitate after that, scared you may take those precious pleas back. He continued to kiss down your body, pulling your vest over your head along with your sports bra. Suddenly you were brought back to reality and very aware Satou Gojo was on top of you staring at your full breasts as if they were the last Mochi on the planet. Feeling exposed, you made to reach for the blanket but he held back your arm with his own, locking you in as his head went down, his lips suckling at your nipple and then grazing his teeth across the puckered bud as moans filled the room. Pushing against his arm at the newfound sensations. His head bobbed up, those bright blue eyes staring into yours.

"Still with me Peach?" He asked with a smirk as you nodded, eyes rolling into your head as he dipped down to the other breast.

"Hmhm Turo, please-hm-need you, please" You muttered, impatient at the lack of friction. Gojo began to leave wet sloppy kisses down your navel as he slowly pulled your pants away from your legs.

Your wetness clearly visible in the light grey panties you wore, you arched up again, the cold air providing a frustrating relief. "Shit Peach, you're soaked. This all for me? I can't wait to taste you." You blushed at this and rolled your eyes, irritated at Gojos teasing but desperately needing him to make this ache go away.

"Don't make me beg Gojo" you said with little demand as Gojo began to place wet kisses down your thighs. Your breath hitched in anticipation. Getting so close to where you needed him and then pulling back to start again on the other side teasingly.

"Uh uh Peach, I don't know. If you're calling me Gojo, we clearly don't know each other very well. Should we really do this.."

Your thighs shook with anticipation and your wet pussy helplessly bucked at nothing as Gojos large hands grazed the soaked panties.

"Turo, I need you so bad. Make me feel good, make me forget, puh-leaseee" you whined, mocking his begging from earlier in the day, still breathless.

"That felt a little sarcastic but I don't think I can deny her any longer, " And just as you were about to ask who her exactly was, Gojo dived in. At first, pushing your panties to the side but then impatiently pulling them off and lifting your lower half into the air as his tongue met your folds. You moaned aggressively, sure the whole camp would hear you but you didn't care. Fuck he had a magic tongue.

And then his long fingers entered you, first just one and then another desperately curling to a spot inside that you could never reach with your own. You panted as he nudged your legs farther apart and groaned into your pussy as you clenched around him. "Fuck peach, you taste out of this world, why have you been hiding this from me?"

"Hmhm" Was all you could say as Gojo continued to ravage you and your high began to grow. You needed the release, needed him. Your hands found their way into his hair as you pulled, needing something to ground you as you felt you were about to levitate off the bed.

Gojo moaned as you pulled on his hair, his fingers now curling again and again into your pussy. Hitting that spot you desperately needed as he continued to make out with your folds, tongue flicking at your clit, and fuck it was too much.

"Toru, I'm going to-I ccan't, shit" You mewled as his hand grabbed your own to soothe you, and then it was happening. You were so close, so close to falling. You needed to cum, you needed it so badly you couldn't see, hear or feel anything else.

"Shit Peach, cum for me yeah? Cum Peach, cum, cum" and so you did, with a final curl of his fingers, you let go and came crashing down. Every muscle in your body spasmed as Gojo continued to suck on the juices leaving your body. You think you screamed but you couldn't remember, couldn't make sense.

"Fuck Turo, what the fuck." You cried as your body came down from the insane high. It had been too goddamn long.

Gojo looked as dishevelled as you felt as he emerged from your thighs, wiping his mouth across his arm and then sucking his fingers dry.

"God damn Peach, that was something else."

You mewled back, still struggling to catch your breath as you stared at the ceiling.

You glanced down to Gojo and you wanted more of him, you needed it. But you were so tired, your eyes blinking slowly as you made grabby hands to pull him back up. He was visibly hard and you wanted to return the favour but your limbs felt like jelly, still feeling fuzzy from the previous high. Exhaustion taking over you.

Gojo quietly groaned when you began to palm at his visible erection but he quickly grabbed your wrist to gently move your hand away. He instead pulled your body into his chest and adjusted the blanket onto both of you as he brushed the top of your head with his lips.

"Sleep Peach, you did so well," He whispered into your hair as your eyes finally fell shut, officially exhausted.

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

Part 2?

I really enjoyed writing this so please lmk if you liked it, this is like my second smut so pls be kind !!

[phefics]

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮) contains: afab!reader, edging, fingering, oral, polyamory, threesomes

“ellen can make me finish much faster than you can,” you tell thomas, mischief twisted in your smile, having successfully broken the comfortable silence in the room.

thomas looks up from his book and narrows his eyes, clearly taking your words as a challenge. “is that so?” he asks.

you nod, playing into it. “she knows my body so well. it comes naturally to her, i suppose, as we share the same anatomy.”

thomas sets his book down on the table and stands.

you shoot a glace over to ellen, who is hiding a smile between her embroidery. you meet her gaze and grin.

thomas stalks over to where you are sitting on the couch, and gets on his knees in front of you. “how long would you say it takes ellen to please you?”

you hum. “i believe she has done it in eight or so minutes.”

there is a desperate wanting in his eyes and he lifts your skirts, like a starving man who has finally acquired a feast. he turns his attention to ellen. “would you say that that is accurate?”

she carefully sets down her embroidery, watching you two with excitement in her eyes. “i would say so.”

thomas pushes your knees apart with his hands. “if i can finish you off in eight minutes or less, perhaps you will learn to watch your mouth."

you doubt that you will ever learn to watch your mouth, but you smile and nod anyway. thomas also knows it's an empty promise, but that is a part of the game that the three of you play: an unconventional arrangement, where no rules are ever set in stone.

thomas brings his face between your thighs, his tongue licking clumsily at your pussy. you breathe out a sigh, looking over to ellen, who is watching the clock, her eyes occasionally darting over to watch you.

as thomas begins to find a rhythm, begins to locate the right spots to focus on, you moan, one hand moving to tangle into his hair, while the other reaches out and grips ellen's hand. she squeezes it, still watching the clock.

"six more minutes," she says softly. "is he doing well?"

truthfully, he is, but you know that thomas likes to be pushed, challenged. "not as well as you," you answer.

thomas practically growls from between your legs, the vibration of his lips a new sensation that sends your hips bucking up into his mouth. his hands roughly grab at one of your thighs, pushing it further to the side, while he other hand moves for your entrance, easily pushing a finger inside of your wet, wanting cunt.

you moan again, grabbing his hair harder. he is always so eager to please, so ready to rise to the occasion. he loves it when you tease him like this, testing his patience. he doesn't just want to be good for you, for ellen: he wants to be perfect.

ellen strokes her nails over the palm of your hand, up your wrist, a gentle and subtle way of including herself in the moment, as more than just the one keeping time. you welcome her touch, drink it in greedily, wanting to pull her close and have her kiss your throat, tear open your corset and touch you with a rougher hand, but in this little game, she would be interfering with thomas' attempts to prove himself.

perhaps after thomas has his way with you, ellen will join in on the fun. as if she can read your mind (and sometimes you think that she can), ellen says, "two more minutes."

thomas slips another finger inside of you, curling inside of you in the most incredible way, as his tongue still works at the most sensitive part of you, and you feel the waves building up inside of you, toes curling inside your shoes, your fingers tightening their grip on his curls.

"i'm close," you say. "oh, thomas, i'm close, yes—"

"time's up," ellen says, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

just as you feel you're about to tip over the edge, thomas stops, and you whimper, your hole clenching around nothing as he pulls his fingers out. "wait, thomas, please—"

"oh, you wish for me to continue?" he asks, his lips shining with your wetness. "i assumed that if i could not perform to your standards, you wouldn't be interested in my attempts."

"i want you to finish me," you say, breathless. "you feel so good, my love, please."

thomas and ellen exchange looks, and before you can beg any further, ellen is at your neck, kissing your skin, her hands ravaging your waist and chest lovingly, and thomas is back between your legs.

"here is one thing that ellen cannot give you," he says, unbuttoning his pants and revealing his hard cock.

"yes, please, i want to feel you inside me," you plead.

he slips inside of you, arms wrapping around your legs to hold them apart as he thrusts into your warmth.

ellen kisses your lips sweetly, stroking your hair. "you are so beautiful. let us see you come undone," she whispers.

after he brought you so close to the edge and back down again, thomas is quick to bring you back to that precipice of pleasure, and you finish with a loud cry, your face buried in ellen's hair, breathing in her scent of lilacs.

if this is what you get for speaking so boldly, you will certainly not be watching your mouth any time soon.

[dodgerkedavra]

2024 fics-in-review

Doing this to impress @its-the-allure, thanks for tagging me! And what a year, am I right, LOL

December

New Heavens (3k, G)

Percy lasts six and a half years.

Go Up to Gilead (106k, E)

The Aurors are Harry’s whole world—right up until he carries Draco Malfoy out of Azkaban in his arms. Harry can’t keep both, so he’s got to choose: forfeit the world, or forfeit his soul?

Clear, Warm Light (36k, E)

Instead of going to Hogwarts for eighth-year, Harry goes to bed.

Blossom the Lovely Stars (33k, E) *finished, from 2022

After three weeks and four days of dating, Draco asks Harry to stay for the holidays. Harry agrees.

Sweet to Your Taste (6k, E)

It’s just like Draco to fall prey to the machinations of his fellow Slytherins. This time, he ends up owning a bakery.

Burn Like Fire (4k, E)

Harry comes out of the Forest dead inside. Draco’s going to bring him back to life.

November

Ye Olde Publick Indecency (3k, E)

Draco and Harry get separated for ten minutes at the Mediaeval Fayre, which demands a carnal reunion.

October

Each According to Its Kind (10k, E)

Draco has one goal: become the best Obliviator the Ministry has ever seen. Everything proceeds exactly according to plan… Until he’s assigned to deal with a SNAKE SWARM in Godric’s Hollow.

Sleep, My Love (13k, M)

Why does Minerva McGonagall always wear green?

September

The Work of His Hands (digital art, E)

It’s not the first time Harry’s got a head injury. It is the first time he loses his ability to write. Now it’s up to Harry’s brilliant and beautiful husband Draco to save the day. Bending a naked and gorgeous Harry over Draco’s desk is an unconventional Healing strategy, but the Boy Who Lived has never been a conventional wizard.

Wherever He Leads Me (11k, E)

Draco never knows when a certain someone’s stag Patronus will block his path as he’s trying to sneak out of a memorial or leap on his pelvis during yoga class.

A Line-storm Song (12k, E)

Harry holds it together for five years after the war. Well—he sort of holds it together. Then his Auror partner Pansy Parkinson says it’s going to rain.

En Passant (46k, E)

An en passant capture can only be made by another pawn, and it is only possible on the move immediately after the enemy pawn lands shoulder-to-shoulder with his opponent. Nine days before the end of Draco’s probation, a grievously injured Auror Potter crashes through the roof of the Malfoy Manor and lands in Draco’s arms. It’s Draco’s first capture of the game. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

August

Bad Cop, Good Boy (1k, E)

Five times Harry Potter is a cop, plus one time he’s still a cop. A bad one? Well, that depends entirely on the beholder.

July

Perpetual Motion, Perpetual Sound (51k, E)

Harry Potter can’t sleep.

June

The Winds Forbid (8k, T)

The third letter Petunia receives from Albus Dumbledore simply can’t be right.

See Me and Live (37k, E)

Harry and Draco are roommates. They're coworkers. They're secret boyfriends. And now they're having a baby together!?

One Warm Line (1k, E)

This pain is part of being human.

May

Love Will Abide (41k, E)

Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

April

Stand in the Shadow of the Moon (4k, E)

Husbands Harry and Draco road trip to Maumee, Ohio to experience totality at the 8 April 2024 solar eclipse.

March

Bike Dream (27k, E)

Draco’s going to learn to ride a bike if it’s the last thing he does.

Bridal Rose (2k, E)

Harry would do anything.

The Dancing Hours (2k, E)

Harry begged. Draco couldn't say no.

A Soft, Low Strain (2k, E)

Harry can’t help that it feels so good.

February

Perennial Blooms (5k, E)

The flowers keep coming back.

I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) (15k, E)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter make a pact that if they’re both still single on New Year’s Day in ten years’ time, they’ll get married. It’s a long ten years.

January

Get What You Knead (7k, E)

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes... You might find You—

All told, this was somewhere in the realm of 500kish ??? !! So

[skelesunderthetale]

First kiss? How? 💕

Sans (Undertale) Sans wouldn't be the one making the first move, that's for sure. You'd have to be the one initiating or at least give him a sign that you would want to try out kissing. He's a bit romantic without even trying, so it'd be after a dinner date. It didn't need to be classy, you like him for his simplicity. If it had been a while since you guys were together, you would've been thinking about it for a while and would feel a bit relieved. But if it hasn't been a while, he would be surprised by your boldness. It'd be a soft smooch on the mouth. Red (Underfell) More straight forward, and it would happen not long after meeting if there was immediate flirting. If it's more of a slow burn, it would happen a short bit after getting together for real. After that, he's definitely not letting you go, he's very clingy sometimes and probably more than you. Probably annoying about it too, but tells you he's just teasing with a smirk on his face (he's not, he's hurt if you reject him). Blue (Underswap) Romance lord. Literally thinks it's wrong to kiss before dating, only hand holding allowed. If you meet him at a party or a bar, try to flirt and things go hot too quickly, he'll be the one to reject you. If you're his type (probably, I mean he doesn't have very high standards), he'll ask you out for a date the week after, he's a very busy skeleman! If you think you can kiss him after the first date, well... you guys aren't really there yet. He's very patient about it, and should be too if you want him that bad. After all this courtship, you find out he was worth the wait. Dream (Dreamtale) Another one that you'll need to make the first move for. It's not that he's shy, but that he feels like it's not his thing to do stuff like that. Add a bit of hyperselfconsciousness and awkwardness, and you have him when it comes to physical intimacy and romantic feelings. He can feel if you have good intentions or not, and if your heart is pure enough something between you two COULD happen. You also need his trust, and have to convince him that he can let himself loose more often. Nightmare (Dreamtale) Just like Dream, it's not that he's shy. For him it's because he just really hates it. If you want a chance at it, you have to take him by surprise, which isn't easy to start with. Also, you need to have a good friendship already or a nice enough relationship if you don't want him to rip you apart (and not in any of the possible good ways, I promise you). He's not gonna just blush and look away like in a cute comic, he's not a tsundere or whatever, Nightmare will stare into your soul until you apologise. Good luck guys! Ink (___tale) Ink thinks it's just a fun thing, if he knows you enough. Ask him and he'd probably do it, not directly on the mouth though. Of course he knows the meaning, and would ask you if you realise he's not really the type of guy you should consider as a future lover, but if you're sure that there's no other feelings involved, he's fine. But like... why do that though? Is it because you're curious about how a skeleton with an actual mouth feels like? Error (Errortale) Ouch, very hard to do that in general. He's a bit more easy to fall in love with than Ink or Nightmare, but he's still not the lovey-dovey guy from your dreams, and he knows that, and it irritates him. Even if he finds interest in you, or even loves you, it's hard for him to fight his phobia and fears. You need to be patient, and let him come to you first. Killer (Something New) Another one that doesn't really wait up on things like courting or relationship stages. You like him? What the hell but damn he likes you too so let's go! He has close to no experience, and it's messy, the kiss and your face after... because his tears are definitely tainting it. He knows you're a freak anyway, so he doesn't try to avoid that. Author note: I just wanted to give something during my winter break. A lot happened since my last post. I wrote something for Dust but Tumblr doesn't like it.

[mikefrawley]

snowangelsoul

It is possible to keep some of our innocence. It's part of your nature, Mike, & that makes you a beautiful soul.

sherrylephotography

Beautiful 💖

ends-2-beginnings

Love this. 💝

Kindness Greetings my dear friends, and thank you to everyone who's been kind to anyone today. I just wanted share a litle bit on how blessed we actually are. Here on Tumblr we can and do share both love and kindness with our friends, mutuals if you prefer, and even our beloved *moots all aroubnd the world. Just for a small example, as some of you already know, I'm 66 and my lungs are definiitely not pleased with the abuse they received from my unhealthy lifestyle over far too many years. I'm not looking for sympathy, but I have COPD and have to take it a little easy. Now you'll either love or laugh at this next part. I go to my Chen Tai Chi Class four mornings a week, and to the gym the other three. Trust me, it's not always easy, but I will NOT quit for as long as I do not lterally have to. I know at one or time or another all of us go through hard times, and I pray none of you will quit either. No matter what any of us may face today, please rember we are alive, and this day at least, we could ask for nothing greater! Okay, back to kindness. This morning at the gym I suddenly started coughing and it did not want to stop. I was having difficuly breathing and had to leave and go straight home. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper, but the kindness of a few friends including the ones shared above, helped me get back to a good place. Thank you and love to all, Mike 🩷 *MY VERY KIND FRIEND @snowangelsoul added "I love my moots" to one of her posts, and while I figured it was something very good, I still had a what the censored is that moment. 😂 I looked it up and moots is a very affectionate slang for mutuals, and yes, even us old people can still learn sometimes. 😊

[danmeichael]

Can u talk about why JC is your fave

jiang cheng was not my favorite character for a long time. specifically, i actively disliked him when i first watched the donghua.

a turning point, funny enough, was actually the scene in the donghua where he chokes wwx. which i think says a lot about me... much like that scene says a lot about jc.

that was a scene that really humanized jc for me and showcased really clearly what he was in that moment. a lost child, a helpless child desperately vying for any amount of control through violence and lashing out at those around him because of it.

i like when characters do that -- when they hurt the people around them in moments of weakness without really meaning it.

you know when a character asks a loved one to run an errand for them, and something terrible happens while they're running that errand? maybe their loved one gets into a car accident and dies, for example. and instead of blaming the conditions on the road that caused that, the other driver in the accident, the hospital for not saving them, they think "if only i hadn't asked them to go out?"

it's because it's smaller. it's easier to conceptualize that blame, it's easier to grasp guilt or to place fault on a single, knowable entity.

reality isn't like that. there is no one singular point of fault. it's not their fault, not really. but a single point of failure is easier to conceptualize, to cope with, more satisfying in the moment than "sometimes things just happen"

jiang cheng doesn't hate wei wuxian, he isn't really mad at wei wuxian for saving lan wangji. or rather, he won't be when he's calm or in hindsight.

but he needs something manageable to be angry at. he needs something smaller, some neat, easy solution this all stems from that he could say "this wouldn't have happened, if--"

he doesn't really blame wwx. but in addition to... everything, wwx is also the one stopping him in that moment from doing the thing he could do to, his monkey brain thinks, exert control and make it hurt less.

this is wwx's fault. this is wwx's fault, because he saved lan wangji, because he wouldn't let him go back to try to save his parents, because he wouldn't let him try to get revenge. but it's not, really. and deep down, he knows that. he knows the wens would have come for them eventually whether wwx saved lwj or not. he knows he could not have saved his parents. he knows that he would have died trying to get revenge and left jyl and wwx alone. he knows there's nothing he, or wei wuxian could have done.

but being out of control while you're in pain is scary. so he lashes out. because he can control being mad. because he can hurt wei wuxian. because he needs something, anything in that moment to feel like he isn't spinning out and about to crash.

i think that violent ugliness in response to his own suffering is compelling.

that sort of added onto the endless "what if" pursuit common of fandom, after finishing the novel and finding that jc and wwx were still estranged. logically, that was the best possible ending. them suddenly getting along at the end of the book for a happy ending wouldn't have made sense for either of their characters. them making up in a way i found satisfying would have taken another 2 english volumes and circumstances i can't even imagine, and mxtx might not have even written it in a way that i found satisfying even under the theoretical that she did devote an entire additional novel to making it happen.

but that ambiguous, unwritten, theoretical making up that exists in my minds eye haunts me.

even after all that, i still didn't *like* jc. he was compelling, i appreciated him as a mechanism in the narrative, but he wasn't my blorbo. i didn't *like* him in the way i *like* other favorite characters.

no, no. the real catalyst is that nobody who dislikes jiang cheng dislikes him for the right reasons and it pissed me off so bad that i became protective over him.

there's plenty of good reasons to hate jiang cheng but you're just MAKING UP ONES that DO NOT EXIST and IGNORING ALL OF HIS INTERESTING CHARACTER WRITING.

what do you MEAN he doesn't love his brother?! what do you MEAN he only warmed to jyl's marriage because he came to see her as a political pawn and didn't actually love her either?! what do you MEAN he should have just been GRATEFUL that wwx surgically placed his entire fucking martyr complex into jc's body while ACTIVELY LYING TO HIM ABOUT IT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S A MISOGYNIST? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S *COLORIST*????? AM I FUCKING LOSING IT????????? DID I READ A DIFFERENT FUCKING BOOK??????????????

being so pissed off by incorrect analysis of his character made me think about him as a character, his nuances, his relationships with his family and his position of power.

there's no specific trait or scene or thing about him that makes him my favorite. he's just a good shape. he clicks into my brain in a good way.

[ranahan]

@fox-trot, they don’t make it easy to follow, but granted that TCW is a show for kids, it makes sense the political context has to be pieced together from between the lines.

This interpretation puts a different spin on several things:

Why Republic military occupation is a credible threat and a likely response to Mandalore’s internal terrorist problem. Beyond the ongoing galactic war and separatist support of the terrorists, the Republic is in control of Mandalore and might’ve decided to intervene even if it was peacetime. Only the scale of intervention tbd.

No wonder Almec can confidently predict that Mandalorians would rather side with Death Watch than tolerate another Republic occupation—the last time Republic razed them to the ground (as far as we know, ofc there might have been other occupations between the Mandalorian Excision and the Clone Wars).

Read against this context, Satine’s and other New Mandalorian politicians’ lines read rather differently. When Almec tells the Jedi that the warriors have died off, he’s reassuring the representatives of an occupying power that Mandalore is keeping to the conditions of its treaty. He’s ham-handed about it, but what he’s saying is essentially “don’t worry about the warriors—please don’t come back and glass our planet again.” People have noted that Almec is not a reliable character, but make also note of the audience he’s addressing.

Satine’s vehemence against violence when addressing Republic personnel can also be read in this light. She could be saying that a) we have not militarised, so you have no cause to occupy us again, and b) we don’t want Republic’s violence (military occupation) on Mandalore. When Satine refuses to consider joining the war despite the Separatists supporting the DW, she probably doesn’t want to—but also she also can’t. Not without the Republic’s blessing, which she would be unlikely to get and even trying could end badly for Mandalore.

It also puts a different spin on Mandalorian pacifism. I don’t doubt that there is genuine, native movement there, partly in response to the conquering ways of their ancestors and partly to Dral’Han and the following occupation. But it’s also not a free choice, but a choice that was and is pressed on them from outside. In these circumstances, pacifism—especially as Mandalore’s foreign policy—is not just pragmatic. It’s Mandalore’s best defense. It’s aranov. There might very well be “traditionalist” Mandalorians, who still support pacifism-as-foreign-policy or pacifism-as-the-official-party-line.

Fandom sometimes wonders why Jaster Mereel and Jango Fett are hands-off Mand’alor’s. The answer is that Mandalore’s traditional forms of government have been destroyed by the Excision and the following Republic takeover. The post-excision Mand’alor’s are almost like the line of Isildur, kings in exile. The only form of power they have is cultural, because they have no formal authority recognised by the civil government anymore. No doubt they hold significant informal power and sway over opinions, but they are effectively stripped of their legal powers. Individual Mandalorians might choose to respect the Mand’alor’s word over the written law, but the law no longer recognises them. This is in contrast to pre-excision Mand’alor’s, who would have been sovereign heads of state in truth.

That’s also another question that I see asked often in fandom: why don’t the traditionalist warriors just take over the pacifists? They should be easy to defeat since they don’t fight back, right? But it isn’t that simple, because the pacifist government is backed by the threat of Republic intervention. If the Mand’alor did “win over the pacifists” like happens in some fics, the Republic would intervene militarily in response. The Mand’alor’s likely don’t want to take over, not if they aren’t confident they can fight off the Republic as well. And I don’t think I’ve seen that explored in Mandalorian fanfiction very often. Not that there’s anything wrong with writing AUs, but the reality of their political situation would be interesting to explore, I think.

But like @sootyships noted, this interpretation does call into question the clan wars. Why didn’t the Republic intervene then? The Watsonian answer might be that it did intervene (sending Jedi), but perhaps the scale of the intervention was due to the different policies of the sitting chancellor of the day? Perhaps the chancellor back then was more pacifist, and/or had different policies regarding Mandalore? Perhaps they were dealing with some other crisis or scandal at the time, and wished to hush up the Mandalore problem, because a large scale intervention there would have destroyed their career? The Doylist answer is probably that the franchise was telling stories of different genres (adventures of the Jedi vs. galactic war) during these two events. I don’t know. It isn’t an entirely satisfactory answer, but we have seen irl policies regarding occupied territories change in response to who is the sitting president or the internal politics of the occupying power.

Random thought:

You know how the New Mandalorian government is descended from the post-Dral’Han Republic caretaker government? But nowhere is it said how that transition happened. Did the Republic relinquish formal control at some point (and just continues to meddle in their internal politics)? Is Mandalore still formally a Republic protectorate, even if they have (limited) self-governance? I don’t think the relationship is ever clarified in canon.

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: trust and faith

The title is a bit misleading for this post as it is not necessarily trust for everything/everyone but more an inherent trust in community and neighborhood. This is a time when people would leave their front doors wide open and small talk wasn’t a chore. Now, I know now days you can’t exactly leave your door open but I can’t help but feel we’ve truly lost when smiling and talking to strangers is compared to “emotional labor” you know? This post is about a trust that’s become lost in everyday life, social nets and a sense of safety.

Basically life pre serial killers lol

Contradiction—

While there was greater faith in society that is not a monolith or a universal truth, there was simultaneously less and more fear. Something to keep in mind is this era is coming out of McCarthism, the Cold War, the height of civil rights - still racism and xenophobia, homophobia- the beginnings of the gay rights movements. There were still broader anxieties- especially as so much change and progress was happening it leads to a lot of worry and anxieties! Some rational others not. A lot to unlearn/unpack and learn!

Urban sprawl is another cause for anxiety, and contradictory to this faith in society, while it opened a lot of opportunities for home ownership to those who’d never had the opportunity prior… it became a never ending machine chipping away at the countryside. Freeways bulldoze communities, some neighborhoods are blocked racially, some are so large you start to loose it a little. Now this is by no means a 1960s explosives it started in the 40s but the fear and sprawl of it all starts to take head.

The rise of the middle class comes with the bad alongside its many goods. Like the rise of consumerism, again largely post ww2

There was so much fear but at the same time a more … relaxed? Society for lack of a better word, it’ll make sense once I get into it.

Streetlights and latchkeys-

There’s a lot to be said about knowing and trusting your neighborhood and community, being able to have your kids play a few blocks away without much worry and leaving your door open. Now part of this, I will concede was a lot of parents just not knowing and hands off parenting. Push your kids out “don’t come back until or be sure to by back when the streetlights come on”. Not always neglectful but different from the helicopter preferences of today.

I’m not exaggerating either, the storm door would be closed but if someone was home usually the front or back door would be open. For friends, family, deliveries etc- you’d yell in first of course but then be welcomed on in. There was always serial killers but they wouldn’t become a huge fear until the absolute boom of them in the 70s-80s.

Alongside faith there was a lot less rules/regulations/laws garnering certain behaviors. You could send your kid into the store with a note to buy things such as booze or cigarettes! Sometimes just a few regular groceries if your kids out and your busy (my mom talks about running into a store to get cigarettes for her mom a lot). People trusted the note, parents trusted their kids to get what was asked and come back home right away. It was much more common to see kids unsupervised and completely fine, walking home safely - it was normal!

Latchkey kid: a child who is at home without adult supervision for some part of the day, especially after school until a parent returns from work.

8+ , young but older enough where the child is responsible/capable enough to get home and be able to care for themselves. In this I mean they’re at least able to make a sandwich and keep themselves entertained, not pay taxes or anything. The term and the idea of it took off in regard to teenagers in ww2 but they’ve been around for ages as - again childhood as we understand it post child labor is still a pretty new thing.

Latchkey kids typically were families who couldn’t afford daycare/child care facilities or had any nearby family to watch the kids or who could afford to watch them themselves. Sometimes a neighbor would be the there to call/check on them but not a constant watch.

BBQ and casserole-

Something that kept communities close/ knowing each other were regular get togethers. There were town events and social halls but also the classic neighborhood BBQ or block party! Dances (both adult and teen) when that was huge- different from clubbing and clubbing was also different.

It’s a trope now but bringing casseroles to a friend or neighbor who lost someone, being updated on their lives and there for them. Local clubs for just about anything! Hosting!

Hosting was huge amongst upper class and the ever expanding middle class. All sorts of parties and events, BBQ’s included. Tupperware parties were another big thing, or Avon calls— women’s get togethers mainly to sell product/have product sold to them (think MLM but more reputable)

Cocktail parties! Snacks and a big jug of a type of cocktail and adults hanging out. Not always friends a lot of the time men from work, important or otherwise.

This isn’t to say that clubs, parties and community events aren’t a thing anymore but more it was much more prominent than I’ve experienced/seen it today. That and of course it’s a while different era certain aspects were different.

It was a lot easier to have much more faith in society (and trust in neighbors) when it was more common to actually take the time to get to know the people around you. When there wasn’t 24/7 news cycles of fear or a million ways to get constant new info- when you got it through good old fashioned local gossip. I’ve talked about Locality before in some of my other posts!