#if i start crying hysterically - MIND YOUR BUSINESS

[nic-coughlan]

i need to go into town to pick up a christmas present and i honestly would rather throw myself off a building

[vcrnons]

so. i just nearly died.

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[nanaslutt]

The wrong place at the wrong time

snopsis: you walk in on a particularly interesting facetime between gojo and geto in which gojo tries to convince geto that the prostate is magical thing, but he needs your help in convincing him

contains: fem reader, sub!gojo, geto is on the phone while you and gojo fool around, dirty talk, prostate milking, anal fingering, hand job, masturbation, bisexual satosugu

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

..."You what?" You stopped in your tracks in the hallway in front of Gojo's bedroom, staring incredulously at the white-haired man lying on his back, one knee propped up, his arm outstretched above him, Geto's face filling up the phone screen. "Oh? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" Gojo asked, covering his mouth as he snickered behind his hand.

"Your door is wide open and you practically just screamed at the top of your lungs that you've fingered yourself before, was I not supposed to hear that?" You asked, your face scrunching at your own words as if you couldn't even believe what you were saying.

"I don't care if you hear~" Gojo cooed, his hand dropping back down to his chest. "Is it really that surprising?" Geto's voice chimed in through the speaker on Gojo's phone. "What's that mean?" Gojo chipped, turning his neck to pout at the dark-haired man, his soft hair falling graciously against the sheets around his head.

"I think he means you're shameless, Satoru." You said, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning against his doorframe. Gojo smirked, unable to deny your words. "You always have been one to talk brazenly about your endeavors in bed... like you were just doing." Geto agreed, his deep voice coming out smooth and sultry through the phone.

"Well, you asked if I had any ways to spice up your alone time... since you're too scared to go find a hookup~" Gojo outted the man, resulting in a tsk from the speaker. You shouldn't be standing in the doorway still, but this conversation was too intriguing to walk away from.

"I didn't mean fingering my ass, save that for the people who really love it. Like you, apparently." Geto deadpanned. Gojo sat up in his bed, his hand placed behind him as he held his phone out in front of him, pouting at his best friend. "It really does feel good, I'm telling you It'll change your life~" Gojo cooed, raising his eyebrows at the dark-haired man.

"I bet my roomie can attest too, I hear you whimper through these thin walls late at night when you think I'm asleep," Gojo revealed, turning his head to look at you. Your jaw dropped, words failing to find your tongue as you stared at him dumbfounded. Yeah, you absolutely should've minded your business.

"W-what the fuck?" You stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up at Gojo's unexpected words. You heard Geto laugh through the phone, followed by a quiet "Does she really~?"

"Since when was this conversation about me now?" You said, your face scrunching in displeasure as embarrassment flooded your body. How was all of the attention suddenly on you? "It's okay, everyone gets horny, so no need to feel all shy about it~ You sound really cute anyways, you have nothing to worry about."

A loud groan fell from your lips, your hands uncrossing to cover your face, your displeased noises becoming muffled from how hard you pressed your hands to your face. Geto's laughter became hysterical at your dismay. You felt a headache start to come on.

"Heh~ further proves my point though, fingering yourself feels good Suguru~ I don't want you to come crying to me when you're 80, complaining about how you wish you would've tried it when you were in your prime," Gojo said, raising his chin smugly.

"With your eating habits, you'll be lucky if you break 60." Geto quipped, "Anyways, I wouldn't even know where to start." He confessed, Geto's voice coming through softer, honest. A sinister smile formed on Gojo's face as Geto's words reached his ears, an idea popping into his head. His eyes falling on you made your body tense where you stood, wondering why he was looking at you again. You thought you had successfully escaped being the center of attention.

"Wanna help me show Geto how good your prostate can feel?"

The words fell from your roommate's lips as nonchalantly as he had just asked what you wanted for dinner. You kept your hands over your face, your fingers cracked over your eyes so you could see him. You felt a blossom spread in your tummy at his proposition, what did that even mean? How would you have any involvement in this? You didn't even have a prostate.

You felt your heart rate pick up, the organ beating faster in your chest as you stood underneath his awaiting gaze, trying to wrack your brain for the right words to say. Your eyes darted around the room as you tried to escape his eyes long enough to think of a reasonable reply.

You and Gojo have lived together for 2 years now. The two of you practically joined at the hip, courtesy of Gojo who had no concept of personal space and hated being alone. Gojo liked to refer to your personal space as 'our personal space' you had grown used to it.

The childish man could be obnoxious and crass sometimes, but he also had a strange sort of charm to him. He was very observant of your needs, and somehow always knew what you were thinking. Not to mention he was undoubtedly easy on the eyes, no matter how annoying he was--and you would be lying if you said a few of those nights you spent alone in your room with just your fingers to keep you company that Gojo had referred to; hadn't featured said man in your fantasies as you fucked yourself.

After going over these facts and losing yourself in your own mind as you did so, you decided on what you were going to say back to Gojo. Snapping back to reality by dropping your hands to your sides and making unsure eye contact with Gojo, you spoke. "H-how would I help?" You didn't realize that those very words had sealed your fate.

—

"D-deeper cmon~ touchin' me like you're scared I'm gonna break or something." Satoru teased, wiggling his ass back into you. You felt your face heat up at his words. Well sorry... I've never exactly fingered someone's ass before, excuse me if I'm a little tentative... you shot back in your head, opting to just bite your lip and take his jab in the world outside of your head.

Gejo had placed his phone on his five-foot tripod on the side of the bed, giving Geto a perfect view of Gojo who was laid face down ass up, with you sitting on your knees behind him, a bottle of lube by your thigh, the cap was still undone in case you needed more. Your finger was about halfway into Gojo's ass, slowly and shallowly pumping into him. He was right, you were afraid he was going to break, afraid that if you moved too suddenly, you would hurt him.

The camera was angled near the end of the bed so Geto could also see Gojo's hungry little hole swallow up your fingers, making him palm his large hand over his cock at the sight of it pulsing around you. "You listening Suguru?" Gojo breathed, his head lying against the sheets, and turned to the side so he could see Geto staring at him, and a little sliver of your blurry, shy face.

"Oh, I'm listening," Geto responded, squeezing his hand over his tip as he spoke. He didnt want Gojo to know how much this was affecting him; watching his best friend get fingered by his cute roomie; so he kept his camera on his face for now, keeping the minstrations on himself to himself.

"G-good... you better take it all in for when you try this later~" Gojo cooed, confident that Geto would actually try this. Geto nodded, jerking his hand over his clothed cock harder as he pretended to listen to his words. A choked moan from you brought the attention you detested so much to be centered on you once more. "You okay there?" Geto's voice chirped teasingly through the phone, his eyes taking in your flustered face.

"It's... It's in." You whispered, your words barely being loud enough to be heard through the phone. "Your finger?" Geto asked you, keeping his voice and face monotone as he slid his hand underneath the band of his sweats, his growing arousal needing more than over-the-clothes touching to be satiated.

You nodded, a deep blush spreading across your face as you relished the feeling. Gojo was so tight around you, even tighter than your cunt felt when you touched yourself. "Yeah, I can feel it too, so stop teasing me and move it already~" Gojo groaned, pushing his hips back against your finger, slick from the abundance of lube you used.

You swallowed hard watching Gojo fuck his hips back against you, the motion only resulting in your finger jolting around slightly, not enough to give him any real stimulation. "O-okay." You mumbled quietly, before you pulled your finger out, and screwed it back in. Gojo breathed out through his mouth, relieved you were finally moving.

"How's it feel?" Geto chimed in, his hand now tentatively stroking over his cock, his sweats and boxers alike pulled halfway down his thighs. Gojo grumbled, pouting dramatically against the sheets before he spoke, trying to angle his head to look at you the best he could from his current position. "Feels like I have a finger in my ass," Gojo replied with a short giggle.

Geto hummed in response, tilting his head at his companion through the phone. "Though you were gonna show me how good your prostate feels?" Geto teased, slowing his strokes over his cock as he waited for the real action to happen, not wanting to blow his load too soon. "I would if my cute roomie started listening to me~" Gojo cooed, disguising his jab at you in his teasing words.

You knew he was immediately referring to how gently you were being. Curse you for being curdious of his most sacred place in all of his body. "Fine, you want it harder? Don't come crying to me if you get hurt." You said with a sigh, shaking your head. You placed your free hand on his ass, giving yourself some leverage before you started fingering him properly.

"Yeahhh~ Cmon, give it to me~" Gojo cooed, that annoyingly cocky tone laced throughout his voice. His unaffectedness to having your finger in his asshole made you want to wipe that smirk off his face and replace it with a more desperate look. You tried to be nice, but clearly, that wasn't what he wanted.

Geto watched you carefully as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, readjusting yourself on your knees closer to Gojo before you pulled your finger out of his hole and grabbed the lube, spreading it across two fingers this time. "Hey, I said give it to me not pull out complete- ahh!" Gojo's complaint was short-lived when you thrust both of your fingers in his ass to the hilt all at once.

Gojo gasped against the sheets like the wind had just been punched from his lungs, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall in shock. "You're so impatient Satoru." You shot back, starting up a decent pace on his ass, your fingers colliding against him causing the fat of his ass to ripple under your hand as you held him steady. Geto laughed at how fast Gojo's expression changed from cocky to desperate, the sight making his cock twitch in his hand.

"A-ah- ah-" Gojo softly whimpered, his hands curling around the pillow under his head for comfort as you fingered him. Your pace now felt words better than your sloppy, slow one just seconds prior, but something was still missing. He needed you deeper, lower. Your fingers just barely ghosting over his prostate was not nearly enough, he needed you to jab directly into it, to abuse it with no remorse.

"Deeper baby, a little deeper," Gojo instructed, the teasing in his voice long gone, now replaced with a carnal need. "Angle your fingers down, curl them down like you're trying to touch my stomach." You quickly took his words into action, wanting to see him crumple under your hand. "You know all the tricks, huh?" Geto chimed in, wishing so badly he was there right now.

What would be his role? Would he be the one fucking his fingers into Gojo's ass while you sucked him off? Maybe he would have you lean forward so he could eat your pretty pussy out while you fingered Gojo, both options sounded delicious. His hand sped up as he lost himself in his fantasies, his free hand curling into the sheets as his eyes stayed glued on the two of you.

You angled your fingers down, towards his tummy like he had instructed, and jabbed your fingers in, curling them when your fingers fucked into his ass to the hilt. The guttural moan Gojo released sent shivers down your spine. "Oh fuck- right there, do that again-" He begged, his arms tightening around his pillow as he shamelessly wiggled his hips back against you, trying to get your fingers to hit that spot inside him again.

Your face scrunched in pleasure as you repeated the motion, feeling a walnut-shaped ball under your fingers each time you curled them inside him. "Ohmyfuckinggod-" Gojo grits through his teeth, his teeth clicking together each time his jaw opens and closes in pleasure. "That looks like it feels good, Satoru," Gojo smirked, the only tell of his arousal being how a light blush spread across his face. Pretty impressive considering how much he was leaking on his fingers from how hot he felt watching the show the two of you were putting on.

Gojo tried to open his mouth to respond but you had gotten more confident with his unabashed moaning, your fingers pistoning in and out of his tight ass, drilling straight into his prostate. "Ah- ah- ah-" The white-haired man moaned so prettily, all the sounds coming from his body being music to your ears. "Does that feel good, Satoru?" You ask, your words coming out more timid than you would've liked.

Your roommate nodded profusely, an adorable red blush spread across his cheeks as his eyes rolled back in his head from how good he was feeling. "So f-fucking good- Ngh- feels so- intense! Nghhhh-" Gojo whined, his words coming out choppy and slurred from the whines being fucked from his body.

“Oh fuck baby- fuck- fuck my ass baby ohmygod- harderrrr-“ Gojo slurred, whimpering into the sheets like some slut. You pressed your thighs together, your clit throbbing at his desperate show of his need for pleasure.

Geto pressed his lips together as subtly as possible, trying to appear unaffected as he rapidly jerked his hand over his cock, matching your pace inside Gojo's tight hole. His camera was shaking slightly with his movements, but he was feeling too good to care. The both of you were quite preoccupied anyway, it's not like you would notice his camera shaking anyway.

"Grab his cock pretty girl," Geto instructed, his eyes falling lower with his arousal, a warm heat flooding over his body. You looked over to the camera, making eye contact with Geto, who kept his unwavering eyes on yours, his eyes slightly glossed over with his arousal.

"Yeah- y-yeah, m-my cock, touch my cock-" Gojo jumped in, a drunken smile plastered on his face as he tried to look at you over his shoulder, his pink face nodding profusely. You looked away from Geto to look down between the white-haired man's legs, your eyes finding their target--being his long, thick cock that dangled heavily between his legs, a steady drip of pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock each time your fingers hit his prostate.

"Been watching his poor cock leak since you started this, the tip is so red," Geto added, his voice failing to sound as unaffected as he would've liked. If Gojo was in the right headspace, he would've teased Geto at the fact that he just admits to staring at his cock throughout this whole endeavor, but alas, he was too busy drooling and whimpering against his sheets to tease anyone right now.

Blushing, you abandoned your hand that was placed on Gojo's soft ass to drop it between his legs. The second your lithe fingers wrapped around his neglected cock, his whole body jerked harshly, almost like it was trying to escape your hand. "Fuck-" Gojo grit, wincing at how sensitive his cock was from being neglected for so long.

"Oh shit, bet it's sooo much right now, huh?" Geto asked his best friend. Gojo's eyes found Geto's through the phone screen, tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes as you immediately fell into a quick rhythm, your hand jerking over his length at a pace that matched the one inside him. Gojo could only nod pathetically, his face scrunching in pleasure as your hand focused on his tip, jerking over the sensitive red head quickly, causing cute squelches to echo throughout the room.

"You're so wet, Satoru." You whispered in awe, your mouth dropping into a small o as you milked his cock, the pool of pre-cum on his sheets between his legs making it look like he had already cum several times--you had no idea how he still had so much to give.

Gojo's body jerked around, the tears that had welled up in his eyes finally fell down his rosy cheeks, over the slope of his nose, and joined together on his pillow. "Fuck- please p-please- Nghhh- A-ah-" He didn't know what he was begging for. He was unsure if he wanted you to stop, or give him more. All he knew is that it was all so fucking overwhelming; having everyone's attention on him.

"Talk to us Satoru, how's it feel?" Geto asked, his words coming out more like begs as he felt himself steadily approach his orgasm, his hand focusing on his tip just like yours was doing on Satoru's. "I- I don't know I- fuck it's so much- too much-" Gojo answered, his eyes twitching and rolling back in his head.

You showed no mercy, jerking your hand faster over the entire length of his cock you stood on your knees and pistoned your fingers into his prostate more directly with the new leverage, resulting in Gojo's ankles crossing and kicking up at the intense pleasure. "I thought you wanted it rough? Do you take it back? Want me to stop?" You asked teasingly, knowing you weren't going to let up even if he begged you to stop.

"No! Nonono don't stop p-please don't stop-" Gojo cried, his head jerking against his satin pillowcase as he fought through the intense pleasure, his body jerking and spasming without his permission. "He's a fucking mess, look what you did~" Geto laughed, his dick twitching with interest at Gojo's teary, drooling face.

"Ahhh- ah- right there- keep f-fucking me right there-" Gojo gasped, his hands digging into his pillow as his eyes squeezed shut, his orgasm welling up in his tummy. "I think he's gonna cum pretty, is his cock twitching?" Geto asked, knowing very well what the telltale signs of a man's orgasm were.

You nodded, Gojo's cock was throbbing profusely in your hand, and his tight hole was squeezing more consistently around your fingers as well, almost like a heartbeat--it was so cute. "Oh yeah, you're gonna cum aren't you Satoru? Gonna cum from a few fingers in your ass? Hmm?" Geto teased, taking a sharp inhale in through his teeth as his own hand sped up, his cock twitching in his hold.

Satoru nodded, unable to voice his thoughts. Unable to scream from the top of his lungs, "Yes! Yes, I'm going to cum!" Instead, his jaw fell completely slack, drool pooling out of his mouth and onto the sheets as you worked him right up to his orgasm.

"Me too, look at me Satoru, look at me." Just moments before Satoru was pushed over the edge from your merciless fingers, he cracked his teary eyes open and was faced with Geto's long cock filling up the expanse of the phone screen, his massive hand jerking quickly over his length, making it almost look blurry from how fast he was going.

The visual of his best getting off to his ass being pummeled was all Gojo needed to be pushed off the edge. With a high-pitched cry of your name, his shaky hand shot back to grip your wrist as the first rope of his orgasm shot out of his cock, adding to the pool of his cum already between his legs, soaking into the sheets.

His hole squeezed tightly around your fingers, acting as if he was trying to snap them off, keeping them deep inside him. “Don’t stop- D-don’t stop” He begged pathetically, his wrist being dragged with you as you kept thrusting into him, working him through his high.

You moaned with him in awe as his body was wracked with tremors, threatening to collapse against the sheets. “I won’t, I got you Toru, I got you.” You consoled, paying special attention to his tip as you milked him for all he was worth.

Gojo’s thick cum made a mess of your fingers. Most of his hot cum landed on the bed sheets, but when someone cums as much as he does, it only makes sense that you got some on your fingers.

“Oh fuck- so pretty-“ Geto groaned, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth as he came. You and Gojo both watched as white streaks of cum landed on Geto’s abs and thighs, the squelching on his own cock got louder as his cum acted as lube over his cock, increasing the already messy slick on his length.

“I didn’t realize you were getting off to this Geto.” You said, your chest heaving with your own arousal as your eyes flit back and forth between Gojo’s tight hole and Geto’s cock on the screen.

Through his groans, you heard him laugh as you watched him wring out his cock, making sure all of his cum had released from his cock. “How could I not? You guys are so fucking hot.” His gruff voice spoke, the camera flipping back to his handsome face.

You and Gojo both silently mourned the loss of the view of Geto’s cock. Although it was fairly hard to be disappointed when his pale face came into view his cheeks dusted in a deep pink, sweat beading on his forehead, his chest heaving as he tried to recover from his orgasm.

“H-hey-“ Gojo whined, his strength returning to his body as he gripped your wrist he had a hold of, signaling you stop moving inside him. You mumbled a quick ‘sorry’, you had gotten distracted watching Geto cum, forgetting you were pleasuring your handsome roommate underneath you.

You slowly pulled your fingers out of his ass, Gojo whined dramatically at the loss, his hole clenching around you in sensitivity. “You don’t wanna let me go, do you?” You giggled, your fingers finally slipping free of his tight hole.

“Fuck no~” Gojo giggled, the cloudiness slowly clearing from his brain, allowing his signature snarkiness to come back to him. Geto laughed as he set his phone down, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he wiped his softening cock clean with a towel.

“Suguru~” Gojo called in a singsong voice, his body collapsing on his side, his cock twitching limply against the sheets. Your hands rubbed along his thighs as he relaxed into the bed, noticing how a cute red flush was also dusting along his thighs and shoulders. Adorable.

“Were you paying attention? You have to admit that looked nice, right~?” Gojo asked teasingly, raising his eyebrows at the dark-haired man through the screen. Gojo’s ability to bounce back from even the most intense prostate orgasm was astonishing.

“I think it looks nice on you, sure.” Geto laughed, throwing the towel he used to clean his cock to the floor, grabbing his phone back in his hand as he laid back against his bed, throwing his arm behind his head.

Gojo pouted, rolling on his back to look at you for help with puppy eyes. “What are you looking at me for?” You asked, sitting back on your heels as you jerked your head back, looking around the room for anyone else Gojo could be looking at.

“I thought you were gonna help me convince himmm.” Gojo drawled, his arms pushing himself up to sit on his ass as he reached out for you. You blushed as you let him pull you into his arms, your hands falling on his chest with a surprised noise as you sat on his thighs, just under his cock.

“I could only do so much you know…” You said, avoiding his eyes as his hands made a home on your upper thighs, stroking the skin teasingly. “Maybe you should‘ve cried a little harder!” Geto chimed in, winking into the camera.

Gojo pouted, wiping his hands over his still-wet cheeks to rid the evidence of Geto’s teasing. “So all of that was for nothing then?” Gojo asked, looking between the two of you incredulously, his hand that had whipped at his cheek slapping back down onto the skin of your thigh.

“No, not nothing,” Geto said, looking smugly into the camera. You and Gojo looked to Geto confused, waiting for him to elaborate. “I discovered how bad I wanna fuck you both. That’s not nothing, right?” Geto revealed nonchalantly, making you and Gojo’s jaws drop in tandem.

You felt your face heat up at his confession. Maybe you hadn’t convinced Geto to play with his ass just yet, but you had unknowingly convinced him to play with something even better.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … DUMB & POETIC ♡

track eight of the short n’sweet series. pairing: dbf!johnb + reader. based loosely off the song dumb & poetic by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱

word travels fast when you’re hopelessly in love with your dads best and youngest friend.

rain was starting to spit down on the crown of your head as you marched your way up the dry grass to the chateau. a storm was headed your way, and john b was probably to give you a real earful at the fact you’d even walked here so late in the evening with a storm on the horizon but that didn’t matter. it seemed a feeble thing now, too focused on the tugging of your heart strings.

“old john b’s got himself a date.” your father had chuckled into his newspaper that morning and you froze at the sink, pouring milk into your coffee. your skin felt hot, eyes prickly.

“what?” you ask quietly, trying your hardest to sound unshaken by the news.

“the guys down at the garage stitched him up. i didn’t get involved, was too busy working but… yeah. finally getting himself out there. was wonderin’ when he might. times ticking for him.”

your milk pours over the rim of your now overflowing coffee mug and you curse, lurching to clean it up.

now you’re knocking at the older man’s door, shivering from the icy droplets that are tickling your hot skin. you feel feverish, wrong, all muddled up. john b was yours.

he’s frowning when he opens the door, and you don’t let him speak.

“is it true?” you yell over the wind, voice cracking and he pulls you inside by the arm.

“uhm, did you walk here in a storm? are you— what, have you lost your mind now?”

“is it true, john b?” you don’t lower your voice even though you’re inside now, infact your words are punctuated by a harsh shove at his chest. he stills, staring down at you solemnly and shamefully.

“i assume your…dad told you—”

“so this — us, it just means nothing to you?” you go in for another push, crying now and he catches your wrists, eyes softening sympathetically as he pulls you in.

“you know that’s not true. look, listen to me—”

“who is she?” you wail and he holds your wrists tighter.

“listen to me!” he raises his weathered brow, hands loosening around your wrists just enough to swipe his fingers gently in windscreen wipers on the skin. you stare up at him expectedly — fat tears even frozen on your cheeks and his shoulders drop slightly. how was he meant to compete? it wasn’t fair when you looked at him like that. “the guys at the garage set me up.” he explains calmly and you’re quick to cut him off.

“and you agreed! you could have just said—”

“i have to! okay i—” he takes a breath, ripping his fisherman cap off to run a hand through matted brown hair, streaks of silvery grey through the sides illuminated in the warm orangey light of the chateau that made your heart clench with fondness and familiarity. “its not right that i’m feeling this way for someone so much younger than me, and more importantly — it’s not right that you’re dating someone so much older! you should… i don’t know, be out there! experiencing the dating pool! going on dates with guys that are allowed to be seen with you! not… your dads friend.” he shakes his head, defeated.

“i don’t care about all that!” you step up to him, a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“well i do!” he bellows back, and just like that it dies.

you crumple, heels of your hands coming to press into your eyes as you lower yourself to the floor. you mewl in devastation, salty tears burning into your retinas and he watches in heartbreak, heaving out a long sigh before lowering himself to the floor with you.

“its not fair! its not fair— just because shes older than me doesn’t mean — it doesn’t —”

“i know.” he mutters into your hairline, pressing a kiss there. you clutch his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you tied down gravitationally to earth.

you get real worked up into hysterics so soon he’s calming you down the only way he knows how, straw-feeding you water as you sit in his bed wearing his clothes, still snivelling. he shuffles in beside you with a book, pulling your head to rest down on his shoulder and shushing you when you fight.

“you think y’know everything john b.” you croak, glaring at the dumb pretentious poetry book on his lap.

he clears his throat, flipping to a random page.

“though the night was made for loving, and the day returns too soon, yet we'll go no more a roving, by the light of the moon—” his husky voice begins to read, lulling you into that calm safe space that only he creates. there’s a lingering sadness in your chest when you drift off, knowing it could be the last time and between his words you’re sure you whisper a “dont go”. but you’re not sure whether or not you dreamt it.

you wake up at noon somehow. all that crying wore you out and it goes without saying with the situation you’re in, you didn’t have the greatest sleeping pattern. sticky eyes flutter from the alarm clock, to the absence of john b in his own bed beside you. you hope for the reassuring sound of coffee being stirred or the tv in the living room but the chateau is deathly quiet. once your eyes focus, you’re confronted with a note on the bed side table.

his familiar scrawl, it reads —

‘I’m sorry. I just have to see for myself.

— Yours, J.B ♡’

[yolli-es]

That was the last time

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mental issues, mentions of blood, selfharm

At the request of one of the readers. I find this idea interesting. Also, I think you're already tired of my headcanons, so I wrote the text :3 I hope I was able to convey to you the idea I was thinking while typing this.

Jinx was sitting in her workshop, working on her bombs as usual. Before meeting you, Jinx never worried about time. Spending the entire night creating a useless trinket was not a problem for her. But not now. On the walls, on the table, on the floor, and even on the couch. Watches are everywhere, so Jinx always keeps track of time. It also helped her get into the habit of checking her watch. She did it again, as she had done many times before, when she suddenly realized that it was well past midnight and you were still not with her. She actually hasn't seen you for a little over two hours. Jinx breaks out in a cold sweat, and her body trembles. The realization made her jump and immediately run out into the street in search of you. In her head, Mylo and Claggor immediately started suggesting the worst-case scenarios. But now was not the time to panic; Jinx had to be stronger than them now. She knew without Mylo that you were probably in a terrible situation right now. You couldn't do something stupid again, could you? It could be fatal. And it will be her fault. Again. 

"It's your fault now."  

"Shut up, Mylo."  

When you officially started your relationship, Jinx knew it would be a hard and challenging time for the two of you, but she never realized how hard. 

Jinx ran and ran, knowing exactly where you were and what you were probably doing. You left "on business" a couple of hours ago, and she was only now thinking about the real reason. "I'm disgusting, disgusting, just useless," was going through Jinx's head over and over. It was too obvious; how could she miss it? The way you looked, the way you trembled and blinked awkwardly at her questions. It was so obvious this morning. You thought about it all day, fought with yourself, and she just did nothing; as always, she couldn't help. No, she just didn't want to. Mylo was destroying her for it right now, making her cry but not stop. She fought with her mind and thoughts just to get to the decrepit factory with only two floors. It's too old to use, but also too expensive to just tear down. It's just that no one needs it. That's why you're so drawn there? 

It took her another two miserable minutes to reach the farthest room on the second floor. It was dark, but the light from the lantern came through the right window, giving Jinx a chance to see the basics of the place. There was a complete mess around you—a bunch of paper, candles, and some junk. And you were lying on the floor, holding your knees with your back to Jinx. The air was heavy, the atmosphere oppressive, and only the sound of your breathing in the complete silence allowed Jinx to relax a little. 

Hey, Toots—Jinx began, walking up to you slowly, trying to catch her breath,—You didn't do anything wrong, did you? You didn't have to run away from me. 

You didn't answer, although you were startled by her sudden presence. You must have been too desperate and decided that she would never come.

—She’s become so persistent today—you answered very quietly, sometimes forgetting to breathe and simply suffocating—I just couldn't resist.

Jinx was finally close enough to see the small blood stains just inches away from you. Damn. She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into tears and become hysterical.

Unfortunately, Jinx wasn't the only one who suffered from voices in her head. However, while she had Claggor with his comforting words and encouraging words, you were all alone. Just you and "Alice," as you called her. A girl with long, white hair, always hiding her face, and significantly shorter than you. She had a sweet voice but cruel words. Alice hated you and longed to take your place. Because she was better. You described her so realistically, truly believing in her existence. Jinx realized that Alice was only in your head when you suddenly ran away from her in the middle of a conversation. Jinx asked you about it later, and you said that Alice took you away then.

Jinx understood you like no one else, so your peculiarity was not a problem for her. Until Alice began to cross the line and deliberately suppress your personality along with your body. At first, you behaved aloofly, often not hearing Jinx and awkwardly asking to repeat herself. Then you became irritable, and only after that Jinx found out about your cuts, which you did yourself. "Alice made me," is what you answered. Jinx tried to act radically, constantly repeating that it was only in your head and self-harm was just crazy. You almost broke up then. You were so angry and upset, screaming and tearing your hair out. And then you suddenly went silent and ran out of the workshop, leaving her alone. If Jinx hadn't decided to follow you then...

Enough time has passed since that incident that Jinx swore to herself never to make you feel so insecure and misunderstood again. But then she did it again yesterday afternoon. She's sorry, but you just crossed the line. Then she spent the whole day with you just to make sure you were safe.

And now she has to bear the consequences of her actions. And it's just unbearable. You look sick, almost dead.

It doesn't take long for Jinx to fly up to you and gently flip your body over. Your eyes are closed, your body is shaking, your hands are weakly clinging to her hand, and, worst of all, this time you went too far and cut your legs. Your arms were hurt too, even more than usual this time. One of the cuts was so deep that Jinx thought she could see the bone. It looked disgusting and simply awful, but Jinx was tormented only by fear and sadness. Your clothes were covered in blood, some of them torn into shreds and clumsily tied around your arm and leg. Maybe Alice had left at some point and the will to live had returned to you. But it was too late, and you didn't have the strength to help yourself.

What have you done?—Jinx sobbed, no longer able to hold on. Nothing matters now; there's only you and her. Fighting, voices, work, and everything else just don't matter.

Sorry—was all you could say before falling into a deep sleep. Now that Jinx is finally here, you are safe. Alice can't hurt you, definitely not now.

Jinx pulled you out of there as if in a fog. The street, the alleys, the workshop, the search for Shimmer, and, finally, salvation. Yes, Shimmer did a good job of coping with your suicidal antics, but alas, the scars remained. Jinx blames herself for all of this. She saw your condition, knew about your thoughts, and still did nothing. Even when your worsening condition was her fault. She is too busy with her own problems; Mylo and Claggor constantly put pressure on her. You cannot be a support for her, just as she cannot be for you. But she still does not give up trying to be there with you. Jinx still loves you too much to leave you, but not enough to focus on your problem.

Sure, you'll wake up in a couple of hours. You'll apologize with tears in your eyes, and Jinx will do the same. You'll live in harmony for another week, and then Alice will come back.

Jinx promises herself to be better, for the tenth time. Perhaps this situation taught two of you a lesson, and now you will support each other? Who knows.

I'm going back to yandere requests, I hope you're happy about it 🤭🥴

[de4dlyniightshade]

can you do pregnant reader gets angry at post prison reid and baby reid for a stupid reason

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: none

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: none besides mild arguing but not really

A/N: idk how both scenarios ended up with both crying

- post prison reid:

"hey, spence could you come help me move this table?" you called to him as he sat on your shared sofa, book in hand as you put away and organised your little book corner on your own, already mildly annoyed that he hadn't offered to help or put away the books he'd taken out.

"yeah, could it wait 'til i finish this chapter?" his tone was more like he was telling you to wait rather than asking you(to your pregnant mind), which set you off, letting out an irritated sigh as you unceremoniously dropped the book you were holding onto said table, the hard cover creating a loud bang that startled him, his head whipping around in confusion.

"doesn't matter." you huffed, walking away from the table to head to your bedroom, spencer jumping from his seat at your change in demeanour.

"no no, i'll help, sorry" he apologised but you were already on a roll, you'd set your mind to it and that table was staying where it was.

"oh so now you wanna help?" you snapped, turning to glare at him, his wide eyes looking back at you, slightly hurt at your outburst and your bitter tone and he suddenly felt a lump in his throat, you'd never been so hostile with him before and it hurt.

"i-i'm sorry if i- if i did something wrong, please don't be mad at me" he spoke meekly, his voice cracking as he did, lip quivering slightly as he avoided your eyes.

the sight of him upset at your words made your emotions go into overdrive, tears spilling over your waterline almost immediately as you began sobbing hysterically, spencer's eyes becoming massive as he rushed to your side, placing his hand on your back as you stood double over, sobs wracking your body as you spoke nonsense, not a single word intelligible and then spencer understood.

"oh...oh! come on, sit down, shh shh" he spoke softly as he guided you to the sofa to sit down, rubbing your aching back before he quickly fetched you a glass of water, bringing it to and crouching down in front of you as he urged it into your hands.

"just breathe, sweetie" he murmured, rubbing your knee soothingly as you took big gulps of water, taking a few good deep breaths when you were finished.

"that's it, just breathe" spencer encouraged, offering you a sympathetic smile as your breathing evened out eventually, guilt now filling your chest at the realisation of what you did.

"i-i'm so sorry i- i don't know-" you tried to explain, spencer just shushing you and shaking his head, "don't be sorry, it's not your fault, now, you still want that table moved?" he asked sweetly, making you giggle at what silly thing had started the whole argument as you nodded.

- baby reid:

"spence?" you said quietly as you knocked lightly on his office door, not getting a reply back so you peeked in to see him with his nose buried in a file, clearly not having heard you the first time you called his name again, this time louder, nothing.

"spencer." you said more sternly, not taking too kindly to being ignored and when he didn't reply a third time you snapped, turning on your heels and slamming the door so hard you were surprised the whole building didn't shake, which for sure had his attention now.

"i was listening" he said as he opened the door to see you throwing yourself down on the couch in anger, faced away from him to further show how mad you were.

"yeah well try actually acknowledging me." you seethed, not even looking in his direction as you spoke but you could practically feel his puppy eyes in the back of your head and it took all your will not to turn around.

"i-i was just...busy" he spoke quietly, trying to explain himself to a very emotional, very pregnant woman, which was almost impossible, there was no right answer.

"what a surprise." you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes even though he couldn't see you, your tone making his chest tighten with something he hadn't felt before, a dull pain in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back his tears and failed.

"i-i'm sorry" was all he could get out before he got completely choked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as his lip quivered uncontrollably.

the sound of his voice so hurt made you instantly realise your mistake, bringing your hand to your mouth as you turned to see him at the door of his office, fidgeting with his hands as he looked at the floor, his shoulders twitching as he let out silent sobs.

"spencer i'm- i- i didn't mean it" you stuttered as you stood from the couch and made quick strides to him, your heart breaking a little more as he looked up at you with his teary eyes and wet cheeks.

"y-you've never yelled at me before" he whimpered, looking away from you as more tears fell from his eyes and suddenly there were tears streaming down yours too as you pulled him into your arms.

"i'm so sorry, baby, i-i'm just really emotional right now, i'm sorry i took it out on you" you explained softly as you ran your hands up and down his back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck.

"wh-what did you want to ask me?" he finally said after a few moment of silence, making you remember that you went into his office for a reason, which you then realised was completely stupid and you had to tell him why you got so mad.

"uhm i was gonna ask...if you wanted to go get ice cream" you winced at having to admit it, spencer going silent for a moment before he started giggling into your neck, pulling away to shake his head at you as he continued laughing, "it's not funny!" you scolded, scowling at him.

"i know, i know! i'll get my jacket" he said, holding his hands up in surrender but still laughing to himself.

[lace-coffin]

Hello! Could you please write something about The Collector (Asa Emory) who falls madly in love with fem!reader who lives a very lonely life? At first the man begins to stalk the reader, but one day he still decides to kidnap her and brings her to his den in order to give her a happy life that she truly deserves. Thank you so much!🦋🌺💖

Asa Emory x lonely!fem!reader

Requests are open!

I really hope you like this! Thank you a bunch for the request I love writing for this silly little guy !

You could try convince yourself that your life wasn’t mundane but…let’s be honest. It’s the same in and out, wake up, drag yourself to uni running on a cup of shitty instant coffee, try keep your eyes open and focus on said lecture, grab something quick to eat on the way home and then rot in bed until it’s time to sleep and start the cycle all over again.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends, well not many but that’s beyond the point. You just don’t see each other much, always busy with university or work, god knows you don’t have the energy to meet up on your free days anyway. Keeping up relationships was always a struggle for you and it felt easier to just quietly drift.

Despite this you still get lonely, it can be an isolating existence when the only people you interact with daily are your lecturer and maybe the shop staff. Unfortunately narrating to yourself at home doesn’t count as company.

Little did you know that your lecturer had taken interest in you, he didn’t really have reason to in your mind, but to Asa you were different, reclusive and usually quiet, didn’t answer many questions but usually knew the answers when asked.

You stood out to him despite your best efforts to blend into the background noise of the class. Asa loves to dissect people like you, he finds there’s often more under the surface than you expect, maybe a reason for their timidness, or an unexpected shady social life. This is why Asa is currently keeping a good distance between you as you go about your day, lurking just far enough as not to raise suspicion but close enough to study you like a bug under a lens.

This was not the case for you. Asa couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, instead of some shady back alley business or home drama he just witnessed a depressingly mundane day. Maybe you would meet a friend after uni? Maybe you would come home to a lover? Maybe you would have a fun hobby? None of those things.

Asa watched through the blinds as you sling a microwave meal in and slouch at the table, resting your head on the cheap wooden surface and groaning in defeat. To be honest Asa was bored out of his mind, having been trailing you for the entire evening and witnessing nothing of interest. After you lay in bed and start having some kind of breakdown, Asa thinks he’s seen enough, deciding to leave.

Later in the evening Asa can’t stop wondering about you, surely you can’t be content living like that, a young women like you should be in your prime years, eating at cute cafe’s with your friends and partying on the weekends, right? At least that’s what Asa thinks the 20 somethings are doing these days, he’s to old for this.

This won’t do, it’s not like you’re an unpleasant person, always an angel in his lectures but keeping to yourself, the way you move to put your hand up to answer questions but pull it back in shyness is endearing to Asa. Sometimes he asks you anyway because he feels you deserve to be heard.

After a few weeks and a couple more days of watching you, you wake up contorted into a box. Fantastic. You go through the motions as all captives do, the hysterics, crying, pleading, fighting and bolting. Usually this part is the most inconvenient for Asa. He’s never threatened by it, knowing well that he’s the one in control. With you he can’t help but want to coo and tell you everything will be ok if you’re good for him. Maybe he’s getting soft. Or maybe you just have that effect on him.

Time passes, a few months maybe, and things are better. Your body has softened out a little from your masters insistence on you eating good balanced food, a healthy glow in your cheeks and a little extra fat on your curves. You still attend lectures at the uni only now you’re arriving with Asa and parting ways until class starts, not wanting to raise any suspicion. It turns out it’s a lot more helpful to just have your tutor at home if you get stuck with work, Asa loves teaching you anyway, getting to talk about his special interest to his favourite pet? Beautiful.

On your free days you visit restaurants and events together, the way your face lights up when you try a new yummy food or find a cute trinket tugs at your owner’s heart. Sometimes you think about how you could just run now and not look back, easily lost in the sea of people at the market, however the idea no longer appeals like it did months ago. Given the choice you wouldn’t want to leave anyway, tied to your master so deeply by now. Call it love or Stockholm syndrome, you don’t care anymore, your days finally feel more like a new opportunity and not a burden. You look forward to weekends again, Asa jokes an old man like him isn’t the best company but you wouldn’t want to spend the time with anyone else.

This is how it should be, how it should’ve always been. Asa thinks, as he unclasps your collar for the night. enjoying the pleasant hum you let out as he massages your neckline, rubbing his coarse hands over it gently, tracing the faint red lines the display of his ownership left behind. “Let’s get you to bed cricket” Asa says softly, scooping you up and depositing you onto your shared king bed. You waste no time in snuggling into his soft fuzzy tummy once he’s stripped off his day clothes and settled into bed. With one last chaste kiss to the forehead Asa leans over and turns off the lamp, draping his arms over you. “Goodnight cricket, I love you” “night sir, love u” you mumble back, already half asleep.

[weebsinstash]

I have some more ideas, observations, and thoughts to drop before Hazbin is officially here tomorrow!

-Vox's blue fingertips are sharp metal claws and they make audible clinking noises when he touches certain things with them. It makes me curious about the composition of his body but... nice detail

-oh so you're telling me Vox can enter security cameras and warp around and also teleport short distances like he's Tracer, ok, ok, he definitely is primo stalker material, you could literally have this man warp to your location if he really really wanted to find you

-seeing Vox handle Valentino and know how to calm him down (which was kinda sexy ngl) gives me big BIG "Vox would want to keep you for himself but if you ever run away or threaten to leave him he'll threaten to bring Val into the mix to intimidate you into obedience" vibes. You're halfway down the block from like escaping out a window and suddenly your phone turns itself on and you hear Vox say "Valentino is still asleep. If i dont see you don't turn around in 5 seconds I'm gonna wake him up and he's going to be REAL hungover while I tell him you left" and you do a u-turn on the sidewalk right then and there because, Vox might take away privileges and confine you, but Val is the one who's more likely to get physically violent or at the very least yell and scream at you

-ughhhh I just really like the idea of Reader actually getting to be like his platonic friend or secret crush and you're running around as like either his own PA or even his co-host and, you're just a positive influence in his life, he likes you, spending time with you, like you guys hang out outside of work, and eventually having you hang around so much catches Val's eye. He sees Vox talk casually to you and suddenly is overwhelmed with curiosity on who tf you are and is maybe a little jealous his man seems more than comfortable around you

honestly just platonic/genuinely cares for you yandere Vox who hides you away from Valentino when our favorite moth starts being a creep. You tell Vox ONE TIME that Val cracked a joke about you throwing neck for him when your boss left the room and Vox is sure never to leave you alone with Val ever again

-I just see like in some noncon poly scenario where you get passed between them like a blunt that there would still be hard lines Vox hopefullyyy wouldn't let Val cross? Like you start hysterically crying one day, "do YOU think I'm ugly Vox?!" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Val wants me to have cosmetic surgery! He gave me a list of all the work he wants to have done!" and you hand him like a literal actual list in very familiar pink handwriting and here's Vox, forcing a smile, "hm! Gonna be right back!" and he leaves the room and like in 10 seconds flat you hear them roaring at each other from the other side of the house and Vox zooms back, "hey, great news! You aren't having surgery" and it's never brought up again

-also as an end note. Reader who winds up having the same body type as one of Velvet's models and she snags you from Vox or Valentino one day to have you try on something and you become her like. Her new favorite little pincushion she likes to try new ideas on. You're just minding your own business and she's barging into the room with sudden inspiration and she's, doing her little finger waggle and changing your clothes without your consent, potentially making you half naked or explicitly dressed in front of your male companions or anyone else around

I'm just definitely looking to watching the show and seeing more of everyone in full ^^

[sillyromance]

Can you make comfort vore? From Optimus?

Hello, dear evelyntyecrqzy!

Sure! Here you go!

P.S: there is angst and one heavy word in this work. Also I've written it from the first person's perspective... I really hope you don't mind it.

Have a good day and take care!

***

- How do you feel, little one?

It was late evening; almost all the lights were gone, the only bright area was Ratchet’s lab: the old medic was staring at the big green screen, typing aggressively on the panel and mumbling something inaudible. He was too busy to pay attention to anything else. The rest of the team left to their quarters after they had brought the kids home. No body had shown any signs of life since then.

I was lying on the couch, curled up in a tight ball. My head felt heavy and hurt; I felt cold and lonely. It was hard to hold back sobbing, but I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention - nobody cared anyways. Why would they? Were my problems that important?

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears running down my cheeks violently as my shoulders started shuddering...

And then I heard his deep, gentle voice.

"How do you feel, little one?" - I turned my red face to the huge mech behind me. Optimus Prime, my guardian. Through the cacophony of my thoughts I hadn't heard him coming. His blue optics far above glowed with concern.

I hurried to wipe the tear tracks from my face and stand up, mumbling something like: "Sorry" or "It's fine, don't bother yourself..." But as far as I did this, his large servo wrapped around me and very soon I found myself sitting on his plain rough palm, being swirled with his kind, sad gaze. I felt nothing but guilt, though the only reason for it was my depressing mood. I couldn't look straight at him, turning away over and over, rubbing my hot cheeks in attempt to get rid of the tears. I hated myself for the mess I had become – I waited for him to throw me away as far as he would get a good look at my ugliness. However, Optimus didn't seem disgusted with me at all.

- Did someone offend you? - The mech asked again with the same sincere tenderness in his tone.

I shook my head negatively.

- Is it something in your body?

I closed my face with both hands and shook the head even more violently, crooking.

- No...

- And what’s about your soul?..

I sniffed silently; choking sensation dug its claws into my throat as it let out a pathetic "Mm-gm..." and I nodded. Everything in me just fell somewhere down; I felt my poor heart beating hysterically in the stomach. There was a crazy mix of panicking fear and complete indifference. I was trembling, wishing to be left alone. But even more, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted someone to embrace me and whisper soothing words, to say that it was going to be OK, to stroke my hair as if I was just a kid. But wasn't it too much to ask? I didn't dare to believe Optimus would bother himself to spend time with such a puny, pathetic creature.

After this cut through my head, I couldn't keep myself from crying anymore – I literally burst out.

- Hey, look at me, Y/N.

Hesitantly, I obliged. I was ready to see disappointment or distaste, but instead...

- There is nothing to be embarrassed with. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he really... worry about me? Of course, as my guardian, he should have, regardless... Wasn't I dreaming?

- W-what d-do you m-mean? – I replied indecisively.

- I thought, perhaps you could share your pain with someone. Sometimes it helps. - A small, understanding smile appeared on his faceplate. - I'm sorry... It hurts my spark to see such precious little thing crying.

I lost my ability to speak for some seconds.

- Does it r-really? W-why?

Prime's eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

- Because you matter. You're my friend, Y/N. Friends help each other, don't they?

His gravely voice had already had its way with me. My shudders calmed down and though my eyes were still wet, I couldn't help but smiled back at him.

- Thank you... for this... But I don't want to talk right now...

- It's absolutely fine...

- ... I'm very, very tired, though. - At the moment I said that, my spine weakened and I collapsed at the flat, warm surface of Optimus' hand.

Something childish, basic, something from the abyss of my wild, subconscious core suddenly arose inside me and escaped my chest with barely audible plead.

- Please... Don't leave me here...

A quiet sigh rambled beside me; my entire figure was washed with warm air of his exhale.

- Don't worry, Y/N. I won't.

His digits closed over my tiny form. I wasn't able to see a thing anymore, but I could say for sure that we moved away from the place.

Quite soon the sounds of Ratchet's work faded away. Optimus opened one of the many electric doors and walked into a somewhat room - I heard a soft "whoosh" as the panel shifted back to its place. My guardian set me free on his berth, and only then I understood that we were in his private room. Sitting down beside me, he spoke even gentler than before:

- You are out of energy. And so do I. But still, I don't want you to stay alone...

Do you trust me?

I nod, already predicting where he was heading to. Cybotronian friends committed this small ritual with humans regularly; many were fond of it. However, I had never tried it with him. I couldn't claim that I was completely inexperienced too, but those previous times were emergencies which I couldn't truly like – they were harsh and distasteful like a rotten fruit. Now... It promised to be much more intimate. And it depended only on my wish.

I glanced at him through my eyelashes - I was too sleepy to keep the eyes wide open - and murmured:

- I do.

Optimus nodded. I was lifted up again - straight to his mouth.

Slowly, controlling every his movement, my guardian guided me inside his maw and laid my feet on his squishy glossa - there was a faint blue light twinkling at the back of his depthless throat illuminating a humid, warm chamber. Thanks to him I didn't even touch the sharp dents – their deadly blades loomed right above me, but stayed harmless, serving simply a reminder of what power Optimus actually had over me. The glossa curled around my legs as soft, thick blanket, then released them and I was pushed further to the glowing entrance of the esophagus.

I stared down, processing what was about to happen. I appreciated the leisure pace Optimus chose with me; his gentle licks and steady, rhythmical ventilating brought me nothing but comfort and peace. I sensed my toes in his pharynx and waited for inevitable with dull thrill - to be unceremoniously drugged into misty, humid confines of the muscles’ trap, to be deafed and choked. That what I was usually met with before, every time I was gulped down. However, when Optimus swallowed, his artificial, metal flesh contracted just slightly, pulling me so carefully inside that I almost missed the moment. It was like... A hug. The next swallow was just a little bit stronger - I gasped as he let his hand go off me and my tiny being got engulfed into his soft throat. It felt better than anything I knew before. Surrounded by the pulsing alien flesh, I finally felt protected and loved – the state I sought for so desperately all that fuckin’ day.

For some time he just held me there, his head titled back. I didn't make a move, trying to avoid hurting him. Living heat of his soaked into my bones and made me so drowsy that I thought I would fall asleep. However, at that moment the muscles came to action and lovingly tugged me deeper. The light grew brighter, though it didn't bother me at all; I was easily slipping in a long wiry tube constructed from the smaller ones, thinner and more solid, poured with viscous, bubbling energon – I was watching little sparks floating in there as I was passing by and a weak flame of forgotten happiness flickered in my soul once more.

Finally, I arrived at his fueltank. Its walls greeted me with a friendly squeeze, forcing me to curl into fetal position. I didn't cry anymore; all my worries and demons disappeared long ago, at the second I heard: "How do you feel, little one?"

God! I was so horribly wrong. I thought no one needed me, that I was lost, abandoned... And still, there was someone who couldn't bare me cry.

I felt Optimus' servo laying down on the lump I must have made on his waist, caressing me. I rubbed my head against the spot where I could recognize the pressure and smiled.

I did matter.

[megxplryxb]

Just thinking about Reader finding out she’s having Steve’s baby and how Steve would be during her pregnancy.

You’ve only been married to Steve for a blissful couple of weeks when you realise you’re expecting a little baby Harrington.

One morning after Steve leaves for work, you rush to the bathroom feeling extremely nauseous and after realising your period is more than a little late, you run to the store to buy a couple of pregnancy tests to put your mind at ease.

It’s impossible you think, you’re completely overreacting. It’s just stress after the wedding and nothing more. You and Steve had always been so careful…well, except for one night. One drunken passionate night on your honeymoon when you just couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you any longer. You hadn’t used a condom and had completely forgotten to get the morning after pill with all your holiday activities keeping you both busy. Fuck, you were so stupid!

Your heart beats out of your chest as you wait for the result of the first test, sitting on the bathroom countertop, nervously biting on your nails as you stare at the watch on your wrist. You prayed it would come back negative, that you’d never even have to tell Steve about your silly worry and things could just go back to normal.

When it’s finally time, you psych yourself up to look at the test., taking a few deeps breaths in and out. A cold sweat pouring from you as your hands begin to shake, picking up the test.

+ Positive. Fuck.

You fall to the floor in tears, trying to catch your breath before beginning to process the result. You’re pregnant and the timing couldn’t be worse.

You and Steve were newlyweds, you’d just moved in to a new apartment of your very own and had so many plans for the future that didn’t include children. Of course you both wanted kids, Steve wanted six for christ sake but not now, not yet. It was too soon.

You’d taken 2 more tests throughout the day, both of which came back positive, confirming that you were indeed expecting. You sat in silence most of the afternoon wondering how you were going to tell Steve. Was he going to be angry at you? Would he still love you? You were terrified to find out because you loved him so much.

By that evening, you were starting to imagine what life would be like with a little baby in it. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they look like Steve? Would they have his eyes? Would be good parents? Would it be so bad if you kind of wanted this baby?

It was shortly after 8pm when you hear the familiar sound of your Husband’s keys turning in the front door of your apartment. “Hi honey, it’s me. How was your day? It’s freezing outside!” He shivers, removing his coat before walking towards the kitchen to see you sitting at the table.

“Honey, are you ok? What’s the matter?” He questions, bending down to cup your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes. He’s concerned now, panic visible on his face as you try to gain your composure.

“Stevie, I have to tell you something but I’m so afraid you’re going to be mad and I just need you to know that I’m sorry and that I didn’t plan on this happening right now.” You cry hysterically as he wraps his arms tightly around you, he can feel your body shaking, the tears soaking his t-shirt. He’s completely terrified. Were you sick? Did you not love him anymore? Did you regret marrying him?Was there someone else? Were you going to leave him?

“Honey, please just tell me what’s going on? You’re starting to scare me.” He trembles as you take a deep breath before blurting out. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re…. You’re what?” He asks, eyes widened in shock as he tried to process your statement.

“I’m preg- we’re pregnant.” You mumble again as he stands back up, a hand over his mouth as he remains silent. You can’t read his expression.

“When you left for work this morning, I started to feel really sick, I puked a couple of times and I thought maybe it was that take out we got last night, you know? But then it dawned on me that my period was late, like really late and I didn’t think it was possible at first, I mean we’ve always been so careful to use condoms and I was going to go on birth control one I got my next period but then I remembered that night on our honeymoon when we didn’t use one and we forgot to go to the pharmacy the next day, so I went to the store today and got a bunch of tests and…they all came back positive.” You say, taking the tests from your bag and placing them on the table for Steve to see for himself. “I’m so sorry Stevie, I honestly didn’t mean for this to happen. I know we had so many plans for the future and this is happening so much sooner than we wanted it to but…”

You were so busy rambling, afraid of his response that you didn’t even notice the smile on Steve’s face, the tears in his eyes as he finally picked up one of the pregnancy tests to inspect it further.

“We’re really having a baby? I’m going to be a Dad?” He asks, staring at you, his wife, with utter adoration as he walks closer towards you.

“Yeah Stevie, we’re really going to have a baby.” You cry as he places a loving kiss to your lips, once again wrapping himself around you, rubbing your stomach gently. “I love you Mrs Harrington, we’re going to be the best parents.”

When you finally tell people, the kids all fight over who gets to be the baby’s godparents but you and Steve have already chosen Robin and Eddie, telling the others they’ll be awesome aunts and uncles either way.

Even Steve’s parents are excited, spending more time in Hawkins to help you both get ready for the baby and it makes you happy to see them finally making an effort for their son.

Steve is the best Husband and birthing partner, attending all the classes and appointments with you, reading all the baby books to know as much as possible before the baby arrives. Making sure you take your vitamins etc.

He tears up upon seeing your baby for the first time at the Ultrasound appointment. Showing EVERYBODY the pictures when you get home from the hospital.

Steve quickly got to work on building the nursery, getting annoyed when you insist on helping him paint the room. “Baby, I don’t want you straining yourself.” “I’m pregnant, not dying Steve.” You’d joke. “Just let me feel useful for a while, please?” You begged and he sighed, knowing he could never say no to you. “Alright, fifteen minutes, then I’m running you a bath.” He said kissing your forehead before handing you a paintbrush.

You decided not to find out the baby’s gender, wanting to keep the surprise for when you gave birth but Steve was convinced it was a girl, often referring to the baby as she/her when talking. “There’s my two girls.”

You and Steve’s weekends are spent buying stuff for the baby, high chairs, strollers, diapers etc. You’re both working extra hours to save as much money as possible, but as the pregnancy progresses, Steve takes on more work so you can rest up at home.

As your tummy grows, Steve can see you’re getting a little self conscious in your clothes. Outfits that fit in the past are no longer comfortable and it makes you sad.

He gives Nancy a couple of hundred dollars to take you for lunch and to shop for maternity clothes, making sure she gets you whatever you want.

He constantly reminds you how beautiful you are, showing you he’s not afraid to have sex with his pregnant wife. He just wants to make you feel good.

Every morning he wakes up, he kisses your lips and then your tummy. “Good morning baby, and my other baby.” He does the same when he gets home from work and every night before bed.

The first time the baby kicks, you’re both lying on the couch watching Jaws, Steve talking over the movie as usual. He drops the bowl of popcorn when he feels you jolt beside him. “Honey what’s wrong? Are you ok? Is it the baby?” He panics, jumping from his seat but you’re quick to pull him back down and place his large hand on your stomach. “The baby, it’s kicking. Woah!” You say, starting to laugh at the feeling of your tiny human growing inside you. “I.. I feel her! Oh my god, she’s kicking hard huh?” He smiles, holding your other hand in his. “I think they like your voice baby.” You say as Steve looks at you in surprise. “You think?” “Uh, huh. They kicked when you started speaking, didn’t you peanut?” You giggle rubbing your belly.

Steve comes home from work the next night with a box of children’s books and he’s so excited getting in to bed to read the bedtime story to your swollen bump. “Stevie, what are you doing?” You giggle as he begins to read.

“Well, you said the baby likes my voice and I want her to recognise that I’m her Dad when you give birth, so Phil from work let me borrow a couple of his kids books so I can read to her. Plus I want her to be smart, not like her old man.” “Steve, you’re not an old man and you are smart.” You smile, putting a gentle hand through his hair, getting cosy in bed as he opens the first book to read to your tummy.

You were almost a week overdue when you decided you finally had enough of being pregnant. You’d gone on multiple walks, ate all the spicy food you could possibly eat and tried every position possible while having sex with Steve. Nothing was working, this baby was as stubborn as you were.

When your water finally breaks, Steve is super calm and you can’t believe he’s handling things so well. He’s had your hospital bag at the front door for several weeks now, car full of gas and newly serviced. He was getting you to the hospital without any issues. “We’re almost there baby.” He says holding your hand as you try to breathe through the pain. “Stevie, I’m scared.” You cry as he chuckles, trying to make you feel better. ���Sweetheart, you fought monsters from another dimension for four years without showing any fear but you’re scared of delivering our little girl? This is gonna be a piece of cake to you baby and I’m right here, all the way.” He assured you, kissing your knuckles.

Eddie and Robin wait in the waiting room, Steve having called them once he got you safely to the hospital, knowing you’d want them there to look after Steve if he needed anything. Eddie was beyond excited while Robin paced the halls in a nervous wreck.

Steve was great, he was rubbing your back and shoulders, getting you ice chips, keeping your facecloth cold to press to your forehead and then a few hours later, it was finally tome to push.

This was hell, you were in so much pain, your body was screaming for a break but you knew you couldn’t rest until the baby was out. You wanted to choke Steve for getting you pregnant, telling him he was never allowed to touch you again, that you were only having one baby and that was it.

“Honey, you’re doing so good. Just a couple of more pushes sweetheart, she’s almost here!” Steve whispers in your ear, refusing to leave your side.

That’s easy for you to say! You’re not pushing a football out of your vagina Steve Harrington!” You yell as he tried to hold back a laugh. “Don’t you dare laugh right now!” You warn, squeezing his hand as you feel another contraction.

“I can see the head!” The Doctor cries as you close your eyes, wanting this to be over.

“Come on honey, you’ve got this. It’s time to meet our daughter.” Steve encourages, as you find the strength to push again, feeling the pressure on the bottom half of your body. Suddenly the head is out, then the shoulders and after a few more pushes, you hear the little cries of your newborn baby, before the Doctor hands the tiny bundle to you.

“You did so good honey, you are amazing.” Steve kisses your lips as you begin to cry from happiness, relief and exhaustion.

“Congratulations to the both of you. You have a beautiful healthy baby boy.” The Doctor says as you smile at Steve, cuddling your son.

“She’s a boy? We have a boy?” He cries, holding his little family in his arms as he sits on the edge of you bed, overwhelmed by how happy he is in this very moment.

“I told you we were having a boy. Are you upset?” You frown as he shakes his head. “No! Of course not, look at him, how could anyone be upset when he’s so perfect?” Steve smiles as you move a little to hand him his son. “Take him, I think he wants to say hi to the guy that reads to him every night.” You tease, carefully slotting him into Steve’s arms as he looks down at his son in complete and utter awe. His heart completely melts when his son grabs his pinky finger, holding it tightly as you smile at your two boys.

“Hey little man, welcome to the world, I’m your Dad, and that beautiful woman over there? She’s your awesome Mom. We’re your parents and we already love you so much.” Steve mumbles as tears fill his eyes.

“You know we’re going to have to think of some new names now right?” You joke as Steve nods his head, wiping away his tears. “Oh yeah, somehow I don’t think he’s gonna like the name Phoebe.”

[readingtostaysane]

I'm glad my mom died by Jennette McCurdy - Review

rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5)

I’m glad my mom died tells the story of Jennette McCurdy’s relationship with her mother and her path towards becoming an actress and later dealing with the trauma her mother helped inflict on her.

This book deals with themes such as abusive parents, anorexia, bulimia, anxiety, panic attacks and it implies rape and sexual abuse in the workplace.

Prior to my reading I had seen a few episodes of iCarly, however I wasn’t an avid watcher, I tuned in to Disney Channel more. Therefore I went to this book not knowing much about Jennette’s life.

The marketing for this book might have been misleading to some, it was said to be a heartbreaking and funny memoir. While Jennette’s voice as the narrator can be witty, it is mostly provocative, challenging you to react and oppose to what is bring shown. The things that happen are horrifying, sad and at times hopeless.

Speaking of Jennette’s voice, this book is narrated through her perspective as she grows up. Her inner voice changes and evolves throughout the memoir as we see her go through changes. This type of narration worked really well here, it makes it more brutal but also honest. We could see how the things her mom did to her affected her in real time, instead of only reflecting on the trauma she left behind. We also see her slowly coming to terms that she was abused, and I think had she gone a different route and write this solely based on her present self perspective, it wouldn’t have been as impactful.

“I've spent my whole life studying her so that I can always know, because I always want to do whatever I can in any given moment to keep or make Mom happy.”

The relationship Jennette has with her mother is codependent, hurtful and scary. She has no autonomy over her life, her decisions or her tastes because she’s busy trying to please her mother. She carries very heavy weight of responsibility to make her mom happy, she makes sacrifices no child should do to make that happen. 

Her mother is no different, she’s very codependent on Jennette, citing her as her best friend multiple times. She wants to be around her daughter at all times and control every aspect of her life. She knows Jennette so well she can use her words to hurt (which she does in adult Jennette’s life) or to comfort.

"I don't want to act anymore," I say before I even realize I've said it. (…) "Don't be silly, you love acting. It's your favorite thing in the world," Mom says in a way that makes it sound like a threat. (…) "No, I really don't want to. I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable." Mom's face looks like she just ate a lemon. It contorts in a way that terrifies me. I know what's coming next. "You can't quit!" she sobs. "This was our chance! This was ouuuuur chaaaaance!" She bangs on the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn. Mascara trickles down her cheeks. She's hysterical, like I was in the Hollywood Homicide audition. Her hysteria frightens me and demands to be taken care of. "Never mind," I say loudly so Mom can hear it through her sobs. Her crying stops immediately, except for one leftover sniffle, but as soon as that sniffe is over, it's complete silence. I'm not the only one who can cry on cue.

Jennette does a very good job in choosing specific scenes to make a point across. She does one of the things I love the most in literature. Show don’t tell. Some scenes are short but powerful, aiming to show us her mother’s sadistic behaviour, leaving Jennette’s anxiety levels to rise up.

Her mother wanted her to act and she manipulated her until she died just so she could continue that job, the excerpt above is one of the examples of that manipulation happening. 

If I start to grow up, Mom won't love me as much. She often weeps and holds me really tight and says she just wants me to stay small and young. (…) I'm determined to not grow up. 'll do anything to stop it from happening. "Well, is there anything I could do to stop the boobies from coming in?" I ask Mom nervously. (…) Mom is grateful-happy. (…) "Well, sweetheart, if you really want to know how to stay small, there's this secret thing you can do... i's called calorie restriction."

When I read that passage I had to put the book down and scream into the void.

A big theme this book addresses is eating disorders, Jennette’s issues with food start when she’s eleven years old and her mother incentives her to calorie restriction. It’s a very graphic part of the book and possibly the most disturbing. Jennette goes into great detail in how she and her mother planned and prepped her foods (or lack of) and how they measured her weight. It also shows her mother’s careless comments about her body, making her relationship with food even worse. When she starts developing bulimia it is graphic, horrifying and if you’re someone that struggles with this, this might not be the book for you. I thought it was too much, but maybe it was necessary for her to get specific, so we could really understand.

The book doesn’t go into great detail about her time on iCarly and Sam&Cat and it didn’t need to. I understand fans would love behind the scenes, but ultimately this memoir was about her traumas with her mother.

Jennette tells us about “The Creator” and how her workplace was abusive. She speaks about the anxiety and unhappiness she felt when shooting the series, them not letting her direct and episode in Sam&Cat and her friendships that outlasted the show.

She also speaks on how fame affected her and how much she loathe it. This book starts great conversations about the ethics behinds child actors and how much the work conditions fail them. 

Sometimes when I miss her I start to fantasize about what life would be like if she were still alive and I imagine that maybe she'd have apologized, and we'd have wept in each other's arms and promised each other we'd start fresh. Maybe she'd support me having my own identity, my own hopes and dreams and pursuits. But then I realize I'm just romanticizing the dead in the same way I wish everyone else wouldn't.

The book ends with Jennette enrolling into therapy (god bless) and her path to healing. It’s a tough road but she’s making progress. In the end she comes to terms that she can love her mom while admitting she was abusive to her and I feel like that’s a very nice way to close such a tragic and horrifying story.

[rainydaydally]

You’re like the light of my life

WARNINGS:

Dysphoria

Sexuality crisis

Insecurity

Crying/Kinda a mental breakdown

Jealousy

F-slur

Cartman is homophobic but in a joke way (hes gay)

Unsafe binding (I don’t think you are supposed to swim in a binder, but I’m not sure!)

The Broflovski family is staying in a hotel after camping, and Shiela and Gerald are napping in one bed, and Ike is napping in the other. Kyle, however, is laying next to Ike, wide awake. He takes his mind off of everything, starting to use pinterest on his phone. He gets bored pretty quickly, so he places it next to his head. As he stares at the white ceiling of the hotel, he starts to think. Think about way too much confusing things he cant help but focus on. He thinks about his sexuality, his friends, his looks- *especially* his looks. He sighs, fighting back tears as he grabs his headphones and phone and walks to the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror, listening to Mac DeMarco, as he feels tears fall from his eyes. He cries and cries, and he moves to sit on the closed toilet lid, knees up to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably. He takes his phone out to text his friend, Stan.

“Hey. Can you call?”

No reply. “He’s probably busy.” He thinks to himself, setting his phone down. He decides to call Cartman, which even though he hates him, he can still cheer him up with his blunt and annoying comments and jokes. Kyle tries opening up to him about his sexuality, which he has also been really confused about. Cartman just says “F*g.” which causes him and Kyle to burst into a silent laughter, making it funnier that he cant laugh, or he will wake his family. After Kyle angrily hangs up on Cartman after some dumb shit he was saying, he goes and sits against the wall, and continues crying. He wipes his nose and his eyes but the tears never seem to stop coming. He’s just so, so confused. One day he will think he’s AroAce, and the next day he will get butterflies when he sees a cute boy at a store. He feels like everyone around him is getting into stable relationships now, like Stan and Wendy. Oh how he wishes he had a relationship like them, they seem so perfect. Suddenly, his phone lights up. 

“Yeah.” 

It’s Stan. 

“Nevermind.” 

Kyle quickly replies back, he doesn’t want Stan to see him so hysterical.

“Oh, okay.”

“Can I tell you something??”

Kyle texts, instantly regretting his decision.

“Of course.” 

Stan replies. Kyle can almost hear the text in Stan’s voice, as if he was right next to him. Before Kyle knows it, he’s confessing deep, dark secrets to Stan over text. His fingers tapping the letters quickly.

“Okay, so this is stupid. But, I feel like everyone loves someone, or someone loves them. I know we are still young but im just so ugly and unwantable and I feel like I might be Aromantic Asexual, but I’m just so confused because I want a relationship. I really have never had someone have a crush on me because I’m so ugly and I’ve always been the ugly one too, and I feel like I’m nothing. Most of the guys are so handsome, and I really dont fit in compared to the rest of them. When we were on vacation at the beach I just felt so sick and insecure because you guys (not trying to be weird) looked really good in your bathing suits, but I just felt uncomfy and I just didnt fit in with you guys.”

“I can’t believe I just texted Stan that.” He thinks, and Stan seems to be taking hours to respond, even though it’s only been 5 seconds at the maximum.

“You are not ugly, I really don’t think you are ugly.”

Why did Kyle feel a feeling in his stomach when Stan had texted him that? Stan not only said he wasnt ugly, but he said HE really doesn’t think he is. 

“You definitely fit in. We don’t care what you look like. You think you are ugly, but no one is our friend group thinks you are ugly.”

Kyle smiles, “Except Cartman.” He thinks to himself. An other text appears.

“I’m sorry but what does aromantic asexual mean?”

Kyle knew this would happen. Most people don’t know what it means He tries to explain it, hoping Stan will understand what he’s trying to say.

“Thanks so much, Dude. Also, it means like you’re not attracted to anyone and dont wanna have sex with anyone basically. But I’m just not sure yet because I’ve never had a crush where the other person really liked me. I mean, I’ve dated people but it was mostly over text and facetime. We never hugged or kissed or anything. I’m probably just asexual, but sometimes I have a crush on someone and later it goes away.”

Kyle continues.

“And I’ve only kissed two people before, and I know thats two more than most people our age. I just feel really terrible for not feeling anything towards them. I mean, they were both girls, so I could be gay.”

Kyle desperately wants to tell Stan about his dysphoria, how his mother keeps telling him he looks just like her, and that he hates how feminine his body is getting. He does not say a word.

“You do have that rizz. I’ve never really talked to anybody in a romantic way before besides Wendy… and that hot sub we had in 3rd grade.”

“Dude! Gross! Also thanks. I just don’t know if I want it, I guess. I mean, your first kiss is supposed to be magical, but I felt nothing. I didn’t think I’d be kissing a girl in a pool bathroom who never even thought of me romantically.”

It was Bebe. Now she acts like nothing happened, but it did, and she knows it did. She is so perfect and pretty and smart, so why didn’t he like her?

“I wasted it. It sucked.”

“Wow. You never told me that before.” 

Stan replies. Kyle feels bad for not sharing it with him before, but it just never seemed appropriate. 

“Yeah. I’m still friends with her, and I don’t want to seem mean, but I really wasted my first kiss.”

“You know how in the movies their first kiss is like amazing magical stuff? Well, we are weird, crazy teenagers that go through stuff and things do not always go according to plan, and that’s ok. I know you will find a perfect kiss one day.”

Kyle really wants to just text Stan right then and there and tell him everything, that Stan sometimes gives him butterflies, and when the backs of their hands graze he feels his face heat up. He can’t tell him that, though, obviously. He doesn’t want to ruin Stan and Wendy’s relationship over a *maybe* crush.

“Dude, I don’t deserve you, I love you so much. You are way too kind and caring.”

“I love you too, bro.” 

Stan replies. Kyle feels a smile grow on his face.

“Also, I don’t mean to be nosy, but who was your first kiss?”

Kyle was really hoping Stan wouldn’t ask that. 

“She would get mad if I told you.”

Is all Kyle replies with.

“That’s okay.”

Kyle continues with his rant.

“I’m going through so much right now though. I hate being trans so much, I’m so jealous of everyone who isn’t tbh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m glad you are telling me so I can try my best to help you through it.”

Kyle sighs. How can Stan be so kind to him? Like he said before, he really doesn’t deserve to be best friends with such a sweet boy.

“I love you so much, you’re like the light of my life.”

Kyle jokes, smiling while thinking about hanging out with Stan. 

Suddenly, theres a loud knock at the door. “Kyle? Kyle, are you in there?” “Oh shit, it’s mom!” He thinks. “Yeah!” He replies, trying not to have his voice break from the crying that was happening before. “Kyle, we’re going to the pool soon. Ike and Dad already left. Do you want to come? I know you’re uncomfortable at the pool-” “I’ll go. Give me a second, though.” Kyle grumbles, sitting up and wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He would be looking foward to the pool- he really loves to swim- but lately he’s been so uncomfortable going, like his mom said. He hates going because he doesn’t know what to wear, and if he wears his binder with his trunks people give him such weird looks. He changes into the clothes nonetheless and steps outside the bathroom, arms crossing over his chest.

Shiela must have noticed he was insecure, because she went up to him and hugged him. “You are such a wonderful son, Kyle.” Kyle feels his stomach turn as he tries his best to hold back his tears, but they spill out again. Instead this time, he isn’t silent. His sobs are loud as he holds onto his mother. She lets go of the hug and walks him to sit on the edge of the bed together. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” She asks. He shakes his head, wiping his tears. “Can we just stay like this for a while?” He asks. “Of course.”

AO3 Link: You’re like the light of my life

Wattpad Link: You’re like the light of my life

[jrosa82fanfics]

Part 21 of Finding Family

More don’t follow it as a light floods the room. With it he is able to finally discover their location and is surprised to find they remain in the house, sort of. The cave system under the manor wasn’t the first place Damian would have guessed he’d be taken, but it makes sense when he remembers that it leads to various parts of Gotham making it a perfect escape route.

Another punch is thrown, this time by his mate and as he watches his grandfather stumble back his father comes over to untie him. Dick and Jason soon restrain Ra’s and Tim turns to him. He looks frazzled, his hair a mess and his attire in disarray. He isn’t wearing a tie or suit coat, his white shirt is unbuttoned and his knuckles bruised but the second Damian is free he can’t help throwing himself at the alpha he planned to spend the rest of his life with.

“I love you” he whispers into Tim’s ear as his mate catches him in an embrace. “I love you too. I was so worried about you” Tim says in a soft whisper. “shhh, it’s okay, don’t cry. I’m fine, I’m right here.” Damian responds as he feels the start of hiccupping breaths against his chest. “You have a bruise on your face” Tim says in a voice that makes it clear he doesn’t think Damian is fine at all. It doesn’t matter though as Damian pulls away a bit so he can press his lips to Tim’s and distract him from whatever thought plagued his mind.

They kiss softly at first, the slick slide of Tim’s tongue against the seam of his lips pushing the kiss quickly into more passionate territory. The move results in someone clearing the throat loudly  and Damian turns to find his father glaring disapprovingly. “You’re supposed to wait until after you exchange vows to start kissing” he says and Damian starts laughing semi-hysterically, because after being knocked unconscious he really doesn’t feel like having a wedding, much less waiting until it’s over to kiss Tim. With that idea in mind he turns back to the other alpha and whispers to him “hey, how much do you want this wedding? I feel like it’s not really necessary since we’re already mates anyways, but if you really want-” 

“Oh thank God, I’ve been wanting to opt out of this wedding idea since the beginning but didn’t want to upset anyone.” “Well we still might upset people.” Damian replies. “Yeah but they’re not you so I don’t really care right now. I’d rather take you to bed and worry about everyone else tomorrow or next week.”

“Next week it is, I’ll add it to the schedule, for now I wouldn’t mind that bed, and maybe a bath while we’re at it.” and with that they leave for Tim’s bedroom, both agreeing to not drive to their place that night. As they curl in bed together Damian can’t help but share some of what he had realized that day.

“Tim, fuck up as it may sound I’m happy today was such a disaster.”

“What, why?”

“It made me realize, this whole time I’ve been looking for something that I already have. I was so busy thinking about what I had lost before, that I couldn’t see that I had already found something better”

“What did you find?”

“My family.”

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

And that's a wrap on my second cross-post fic here on tumblr! Feel free to comment below or go to AO3 and check out the original work there.

My next story is going to be drastically different, so if you like Miraculous that's going to be a good read. If you've never seen it I'd love to introduce you to it's characters in my AU where a lot of things are different.

Until next week,

<3J

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @miaulady​​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Rating TBC

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Prophecy Bound

—

Dis was crying. And Thorin had no way to console her.

“It can’t be,” she sobbed. “Please, don’t- make it not so.”

It was supposed to be a joyous day for the Mountain, for Dis and her husband. The birth of their child. And yet everyone in the room was devastated.

A steady breath, a steady heartbeat and eyes staring at the world.

Dis’s son was alive and healthy. It should be a reason to celebrate. But they only felt dread.

“That is my wife in there!” A voice outside the room boomed and then the door swung open, Hrili falling in and slamming it shut behind him. “Stuffy nobles,” he grumbled and then flew to Dis’s side. “Amral! I am here, I am here.”

Thorin watched as Dis clung to Hrili’s shoulders, sobbing and begging for it all to be different.

Hrili held her, sadness falling on his face. He looked at Thorin, Dis still in his arms, “The little one, it didn’t make it then?”

“Oh, he is alive and healthy,” Oin stepped forward and presented the bundle that was the cause of this.Hrili’s mouth opened. And unlike each one of them before he did not break into hysterics or devastation. Wonder and Love shined out of his eyes. Quickly to be replaced with absolute confusion.

“What is everyone crying about then?!” He carefully peeled Dis out of his arms, mumbling to her that he has to greet his son but he will be right back with her.

Dis had stopped crying at this point. Which made it worse in Thorin’s mind. So much worse. He knew how to handle his little sister when she was crying and yelling. He had no idea what to do when she got this quiet.

“Welcome to this world,” Hrili took the baby out of Oin’s hands, smiling at the child and his fingers shaking when he touched the stubby nose. The child blinked back at him, a small hand trying to grasp his fingers and Hrili’s smile widened. “What wonder you are,” he whispered to the child as if it was a secret.

When he turned around to Dis, holding their child, their was a deep frown on his face.

“Why are you sad? Tell me. What is wrong?”

Dis shook her head, turned to the side and away from her husband and child.

Hrili’s head snapped around to Thorin, accusation written on it.

Thorin sighed, “You don’t know?”

“Obviously I don’t,” Hrili sneered. “My son is born. My wife is healthy- She is healthy right?” Oin nodded. “She is healthy. He is healthy. I see no reason that the world is ending, the exact opposite actually. And yet everyone here is looking like they just heard that mountain broke and is lost forever.”

“Because it is,” Thorin whispered. “I am sorry, Hrili. But-” he couldn’t even look at the little bundle, least of all say that this was his sister’s son. “He is, well. Not good news.”

“He is my son,” Hrili stated firmly. “What else could he be but good news. Dis!” he turned to his wife. “Dis, Amral, why can’t you look at your- at our son?”

She shook her head, pulled at a pillow and started to cry again.

“Please, understand,” Thorin started.

“How?” Hrili raised his voice, “How am I to understand?”

A small whimper came from Hrili’s arms.

Dis stopped crying, her head came up and turned around, looking at the small and now crying child.

“Oh,” Hrili looked at the small face and Thorin wanted to turn back time. “Oh, shhhh, little wonder. I am sorry, don’t cry. Your uncle just upset me, shhhh.” He rocked the child carefully. “It happens more often than not,” he went on. “He is a very upsetting man.”“Hrili,” Thorin sighed.

“You know, if you cry everytime I get upset with him, you will run out of tears far too quickly,” Hrili ignored all of them.

Oin, who was busying himself with clean up. Dis, staring at him like he was a creature she had never seen before. Thorin, who was now reaching the point where he was about to boil over.

“Hrili!” he stated louder.

“What?” Hrili didn’t look up and continued to rock the child, that was still upset but at least not crying anymore.

“You are holding the child of demise.”

Hrili looked up at Thorin, a very unimpressed glare directed at him.

“What did you just call my son?”

“He is the child of demise. I know you are aware of the prophecy.”

“Of an old hag that your grandfather believes spits Mahal’s wisdom in his teapot. I am aware of his existence.”

“Master Agar,” Oin grumbled. “Is a reader of the signs. Oracle work is not easy.”“It is alright,” Hrili’s shoulders went down a bit. He always had a soft spot for Oin. Being saved by him after several wars did that to you. “But not that Prophecy,” he might as well have cursed with how he spit the word. “Oin, you have the talent as well, don’t you?”

Oin mumbled something, shifting uncomfortably around.

“Ready my sons,” Hrili held the baby to Oin. “Look at him, See how bright his eyes are.”

Oin sighed and stepped closer, looking at the child intently.

For seconds there seemed to be a staring match between the healer and the child. Neither blinking. Until the child blinked and looked back up at Hrili.

“And?” Hrili asked.

“I don’t know,” Oin waved him off.

“Oin,” Hrili laughed. “You saw something. Tell us.”“Yes,” Dis whispered. “Tell us, what did you see in his eyes?”

“Love,” Oin said. “Love so strong it will be destructive.”

Hrili smiled, “Well, not too bad then.”

“Not to bad,” Thorin echoed. “He said destructive.”

“You are destructive,” Hrili shot back. “You killed thousands of orcs who dared come close to our home. Is that not destruction out of love? How dare you.”

“Hrili,” Dis whispered. He looked at her, but his face only changed minimal. “You have to understand. The prophecy, we never thought it would come about in this way.”

“So afraid,” Hrili mumbled. “Since when are you too afraid to love, Dis? He is your son. Our son. The one you sung to about the world while he was growing in your belly. How could you have turned your back on him?”

“I-” she hesitated, her voice unusually quiet. “It wasn’t easy.”

“And yet you did it,” Hrili frowned at her. “Must be a strong conviction you have that carried you through that decision.”

“Hrili,” tears started to form in her eyes again. “Please, don’t shun me.”

“You stood against your father for our love. But not against a superstition for our son? You shun him, Dis.”

Thorin sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. It wasn’t like they could do something to help the child. When Grandfather found out about it, and he surely would, there was no saving the child.

“I don’t even know you,” he heard Hrili whisper. “What happened to my heart? What happened to my friend?” Hrili had turned to him.

When door closed Thorin looked up. Hrili was gone. And so was the child.

Dis was staring at the wall, Oin at his feet.

It was the last time any of them saw Hrili and his son.

———

“Kili!” Thorin shouted. “Kili, come down from there! What if you fall?”

“I won’t fall!”

Thorin watched the little dwarf climb yet another statue.

“Kili, I mean it. Come down there this instance.”

“Fine,” Kili groaned and dropped down from the statue, giving Thorin almost a heartattack. Only to grin sheepishly up at him.

“Rascal.”

“Boring old man.”“You are the heir of Erebor, Kili, act like it.”

Kili looked down at the ground and Thorin felt shame rise up in himself. Not only was he lying to Kili but also taking away the joy of a child.

“I am sorry, uncle.”

“I am too,” Thorin kneeled down and put his hand on the little shoulder. “Let’s go and buy some of those delicious cookies you like, mh?”

“Yes!”

Years had passed since the night his sister had given birth a second time. Kili’s father was not in the picture, he was only Dis’s husband on paper and never would be more than that.

He wished the damn prophecy would have never been uttered.

It still echoed through his mind, just like the empty place that Hrili had left behind like a stain.

‘When the sister is the mother to the gold haired child,

The One of Gold brings the coldest of dark.

The Mountain weeps, the Mountain trembles.’

He had gone over it a thousands times. Trying to see another way he could have read it. But it stayed the same. The golden one, the gold haired child… Hrili’s and Dis’s son.

And now, there was Kili. Dis’s second son. Her only reason for a smile. If anything happened to Kili, she would not continue on to live. And Thorin could understand. Her heart was broken and Kili had all of what was left of it.

“Come, pick the shapes you want,” Thorin gestured at the display of cookies. He saw a star, a snowflake and a diamond shaped cookie.

Kili pondered for several seconds, looking at each shape carefully.

“Do you think Amad wants one too?”

“I am sure she would love it if you brought her one.”

“Then I have to pick the best,” Kili looked up at him. “Maybe that will cheer her up. She is so sad lately. Why is she so sad, Uncle?”

Durin damn it, but the boy was perceptive.

“She is sad because the days aren’t that long anymore. Like you are. Just a bit more,” he lied again. Lying had become an awful habit by now.

———–

Fili tried to hide under the knitted blanket from the cold.

“Uncle Bilbo?”“Yes?”“When is Adad coming home?”

“I am sure he is already on his way back from work,” Bilbo placed some cookies on the table. “Now, how about you get out of that little blanket and help me organise this mess.”“But you made it,” Fili scrunched his nose up. “I don’t get help when cleaning my room.”

“Yes, you do,” he was thrown a glare. “I helped you last time.”“Because I couldn’t lift it!”

“I helped.”

“Alright. But I get five cookies,” Fili placed his cold feet reluctantly on the carpet.

“A fair price, I think,” Bilbo agreed. “Now let’s get started.”

Books, ink pens and paper.

Their home was full of it and Fili loved it. Except when he had to clean it all up.

Uncle Bilbo was a bit odd with where things had to go and be, unless he was moving them. But his father always said that they had to help and that it was very kind that they were allowed to live with Bilbo.

He never explained to Fili why they lived with Bilbo Baggins, who wasn’t related to them in any way. But he liked his uncle, even when there was no blood connection. What did it matter, if he got the cookies and hot milk from him? That was what uncles provided as far as Fili knew.

He looked at the paper he held in his hands.

It was a map. A very pretty one.

“Uncle, where is this?” He held it up.

Bilbo looked at it. “Odd, just one mountain? Normally they form chains or clusters. Like the Misty Mountains, remember? One is very rare,” He took the map from Fili’s hand and inspected it. “I don’t think I know this place. Must be a map of your fathers.” The map was placed on the table for later.

They continued the clean up until the door of the Smial opened and shut, announcing the return of the last member of the household.

“Adad!” Fili ran out of the living room and jumped into the strong arms of his father.

“Hello, my little wonder,” his father lifted him easily up. “Where you good while i was gone?”

Fili nodded eagerly, “I helped Uncle to clean up. He made a mess.”“I did not,” Bilbo called out. “That is slander, that is!”“And we made cookies.”

“Ah, cookies,” his father sighed and kissed his forehead. “I hope you haven’t eaten all of them.”“No, but I do get five cookies as payment.”When his father entered the living room he whistled, “Must have been a mess, Bilbo.”“Not a mess,” he was corrected. “Just a bit unorganised.”

“Right. My apologies.”“Also,” Bilbo went to the table and picked up the map Fili had found. “I think this is yours.”

Hrili took it and looked at it, “Yes, that would be mine,” he mumbled.

Fili placed his head on the wrinkle forming between the eyebrows, “Why are you frowning?”

“Ah, my little treasure, just memories.”

“You were there?” Fili asked excited.

His father nodded and sat down heavily on the couch, stretching his legs out, “I lived there. And you were born in this mountain.”

“Was it sad?” Filii wondered.“What? Why would you ask that, lad?”

“Well, Uncle Bilbo told me that Mountains normally are together. Huddling and cuddling, like we do when we are outside and it is cold and windy.”

A smile formed on his fathers face and he looked at Bilbo, “A lovely picture. And yes, they do.”

“But this one is all alone,” Fili pointed at the single peak. “I am sad when I am lonely. So is the Mountain sad too?”

His father blinked at him with surprise, “I never thought of that.”

Fili waited for his father. He knew there would be a reply if he was just patient enough. Sometimes his father needed time to get his thoughts sorted.

“Yes, it is sad,” his father settled on. “When I left with you it was already a very lonely place.”

“Right,” Fili nodded. “Can we go there? Make it not lonely?”

“No, Fili,” his father went through his hair. “They don’t want us there. They want to stay sad.”

“No one wants to stay sad,” Fili argued.

“Not true,” Bilbo handed a cookie to Fili. “Remember Lobelia.”

“She is not sad,” Fili said. “She is ghastly.”

“Who taught you that word?”

Fili pointed at Bilbo, “He said that she ghastly.”

“Bilbo! She is your cousin.”“What?” Bilbo squealed. “She is! And I have every right to call her that. You said yourself she is a silver spooned nuisance.”

———

Hrili looked at Fili, sleeping on the couch.

“Long day for him, wasn’t it?”

“I made sure of it,” Bilbo handed him a cup of tea. “Baking and cleaning up. Tomorrow we will decorate everything.” He looked at the map. “So that was your home.”

“Yes. Born there, raised there, fell in love, got my heart broken and left with Fili.”

“You never did explain the circumstances of it all. And Fili’s birthday is right around the corner.”“What are you getting at?” Hrili had taken the map along as a way to navigate away from the mountain, to find a good spot for him and Fili to live far far away from those dark halls. When he had reached the Shire it had been perfect. And the Hobbits were kind people. If you did not count the sharp tongued Lobelia and even she never had lashed out at them differently than to the others. He had first wanted to burn the map, destroy any connection that would bring up that place. But he couldn’t, as Bilbo said, it had been his home. And then he had forgotten the map. Until now.

“He will want to see it. One day.”

“One day,” Hrili agreed. “But that should be far in the future, when he is older. Less vulnerable to the cruelty there.”

“Not a nice place, is it?”

“It was. Once. But it changed. And I only noticed when the damage had already been done.”

“Will you ever tell me the story?”

“One day,” Hrili echoed. “You will hear it together with Fili.”

———

Kili groaned and moved his shoulders.

Being a prince was awful work.

It did something to your back. He called it chronic tenseness in his shoulders.

Since then he understood why Uncle Thorin was the way he was.

But today he was sneaking out. He would lose his mind if he had to listen to Balin drawl on over proper etiquette and what it meant if a person bowed a few centimeters lower or what else he thought was important to do around the holidays. Which didn’t even come close to what Kili thought of as important.

“Listen, it is going swimmingly, alright?” he heard a voice say and he quickly scooted into a dark corner.

“It is getting worse, I tell you!”“Nonesense. The king is putty in my hands. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut about that blasted prophecy.”

“But- But it isn’t a sin to Mahal to keep it from them? And the Princess is getting suspicious.”

“We aren’t keeping it from them, boy. Just not giving the full one. Do you want Prince Thorin to get mad at us? Now? When it is clear that the king won’t make it for far longer?”

Kili’s mind was racing.

Prophecy? The King? His uncle? His mother?!

“And anyway,” the person kept going. “It isn’t like the princess can focus for very long on the topic before she crumbles and dissolves into tears.” There was a snigger in that voice. “The royal family is ours to steer now. Don’t lose your nerves and we won’t lose our power.”

“If you say so, Master Agar.”

The steps went past Kili and vanished.

What the- What had that been about?

His excursion had to wait. He had to talk with his mother!

——

“Amad!”

“Mahal, Kili,” his mother grabbed at her heart. “Knock, would you?”

“I–” Kili started and stopped. How was he to explain what he had just overheard? “Is there a prophecy I don’t know about?”

Her face turned pale and she sank down on a chair, “Who told you?”“So there is!”“Kili, please, who told you?”

“No one. Not directly, at least,” He kneeled down in front of her. “I overheard Master Agar and someone else. They were talking of a prophecy and … it sounded not good.”

She sighed and reached out for his hair.

“If it just had never been spoken,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you, Kili. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would break me fully,” she looked at the wall. “All I can tell you is that it is the reason why I get sad in winter and why you never met my love.”

“He left because of a prophecy?” Kili snorted.

“No,” she looked at him sadly. “He left because your uncle and I could not get over the prophecy.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all. Especially considering that they didn’t knew the full version of the prophecy.

——–

Fili picked up another branch from the ground and continued the sung, stumbling only over a few words he wasn’t sure of.

Finally, when he had reached an age his father found appropriate to travel long distances, they had left the Shire. Not far. And not to the lonely mountain, not even close.

But Fili could see the Misty Mountains from Rivendell and Bilbo was as happy as he could be here.

“That is a nice song.”

Fili dropped all his collected branches and turned around.

Another dwarf stood there, between the trees and smiled at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to drop those,” he bowed down and started to pick up the branches.Fili bend down to, grabbing the few and throwing the stranger glances when he could.

He had never met another dwarf that wasn’t his father.

Who was this? There was no way he was older than Fili. Younger, probably, maybe.

“I am Kili,” the stranger smiled at him. “At your service.”“Fili,” he replied and wondered about their matching names. “At yours and your families.”

“I didn’t know other dwarfs were staying at Rivendell.”

“Neither did I.”

They started to walk back to the houses.

“Well, I am glad to have someone in my age,” Kili said. “Especially someone with such a nice singing voice!”

He laughed and Fili found it the most beautiful sound on earth. If the elves laughed like small bells, Kili laughed like a waterfall. Loud, deep and like no power could stop him from continuing.

“Where are you from?” Fili asked.“Erebor. It is far way over the Misty Mountains.”

“I know.” Fili thought of the map from years ago. The lonely Mountain, close to a lake and a huge wood. “Why did you take the journey to here, then?”

“Ah, I need advice. And with Lord Elrond being so wise, I figured he could help with my issue of a prophecy.”“A prophecy?”

“Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

“My father says prophecies are superstitions that don’t have much ground to stand on.”

“I think I like your father.”

———

“Well, this is all Erestor could find, Master Kili.” Elrond handed Kili a scroll.

He took the scroll, opened it without any hesitation and read the prophecy.

Well, it was more than what he had before, which was nothing.

He had gotten what he had come for. And yet, was unwilling to leave Rivendell to return home.

Fili had told him that he would stay for whole summer here with his uncle and father. Neither of which Kili had met yet. And Fili was fun to be around with. He had no idea that Kili was a prince, and Kili wanted to take full advantage of that as long as he could.

——–

Hrili stared at the young dwarf.

It was like looking at a memory of the past. A young version of Thorin, just with a more ready smile and laugh.

“Who are you?” He had to know.

“Kili,” the boy bowed to him. “At your service. You must be Fili’s father.”

“Yes,” he still stared the boy. “Are you from Erebor?” Maybe he was wrong. He had to be wrong.

“Yes.”

Shit.

“Who is your mother?”

“What?”

“Answer the question.”

The name… was it a coincidence? He doubted it with how much he looked like them.

“Dis,” came the quiet reply. “Please, don’t tell Fili,” he hurried along. “For once someone isn’t tiptoeing around me because of my birth. And what is the harm?”

What is the harm indeed.

“She remarried,” Hrili sat down on the floor.

“Not really,” Kili looked at him with concern and sat down as well. “I never met my father. She says the one she would call my father left before I was even thought of. But she never explained that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Kili was still looking at him with deep concern. The frown was definitely that of a Durin. “I overheard something of a prophecy and no one would tell me anything, except that it is awful. So I came here to find a copy of it. And i did.”“Really?”“Yeah, do you want to hear it? The full version?”“Sure, why not.” Those blasted lines were etched into his heart so deep anyway already.

But what he heard was a lot more than the lines he knew.

“When the day of wonder becomes a day of despair,

When the heart is broken and the father banished,

When the sister is the mother to the gold haired child,

The one of gold brings the coldest of dark.

When laughter finds his song,

Broken bonds and darkest lies are brought to light. 

The Mountain weeps, the Mountain trembles,

the lost will bring light to end it all.”

Hrili took the time to take it all in.

He knew only part of the lines. Other were new.

“Well, that is like being hit over the head.”

“Do you know it?” Kili asked and stared at him. “You are very pale. Should I get Lord Elrond?”

“Oh, no. Just. Some things are starting to make a lot more sense to me. That is all,” Hrili stood up again, the world swimming a bit for a few seconds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, let’s go find Fili and Bilbo. Because it is time for an explanation.”

——–

Kili was holding Fili’s hand while he was being hugged by their mother.

Fili was throwing him a face that screamed ‘Help!’ but Kili only grinned.

The journey to Erebor had taken a long time and Bilbo had complained the whole way there but was unwilling to not come along as well.

The Hobbit was an absolute delight, in his mind. Especially with how he was waving an accusing finger under Thorin’s nose for several minutes and Thorin was watching it like it was about to explode in his face.

Hrili was watching the scene and then took pity on his son, removing Dis from him. Which only led to her hugging him and saying sorry over and over again. Over her head Hrili looked at Dwalin and asked him to please go and arrest Master Agar for lying and for treason of the royal family. The proof would be shown soon, when he had his hands and mind free to care about it.

Kili pulled at Fili’s hand and smiled.

“Come, I want to show you my favourite spot.”

Fili followed, looking back on occasion to check if anyone was noticing them leaving.

Kili knew that it would be a problem with them being half-brothers but he could not help his heart, calling out to Fili. In the months of travelling they had gotten closer and closer. And it definitely wasn’t brotherly what he was feeling. And the way Fili was looking at him, he knew as well.

But they had all the time in the world now.

[bitchy-peachy]

Had a gory ass nightmare last night and then couldn't sleep.

TW: for violence, attempted kidnapping, profanity, murder and loud crunchy sounds.

I dreamt that there was an evacuation in my area but strangely this wasn't in our present times.

This "evacuation" was in the past.

Apparently a fire ball was expected to hit my area. Yes, a literal fireball from the sun. And the only ones getting evacuated to a safe zone were adults with children.

Luthian was with me and was 3 years old in the dream.

As soon as it was announced that only adults with children were allowed, this crazy hag started clawing at my screaming child to tear him away from me.

I started cursing her out and pushing at her, telling her to "Fuck off and die, bitch! I'm his mother! Fuck off!"

People were too busy trying to evacuate to pay attention to our fight.

She scratched at both of us but the instant I saw Luthian's little face bleeding from the claw marks of his little face, my psychotic side, the side I still need therapy for, came out.

That's what made this a nightmare. If someone shows violence towards me I black out and hurt them. Even the cops in my area have been warned cos I castrated a guy with a broken drawer and rusty nails after he tried to attack me to get into my house.

With that out of the way and with how real this dream was, I told Luthian, "Baby, please close your eyes!"

As soon as I felt Luthian's head rest on my shoulders as he sniffled, I walloped that still rabid cunt on the side of her head so hard, a loud pop was heard.

I felt like I blacked out but this time I could see everything.

She was still alive but stunned so I, with Luthian only held by one of my arms, kept punching like a piston as this bitch's face. I did take boxing for a while in college and have arm muscle so this bitch was having her face become noisy mush.

She eventually collapsed but since I was so far gone, I started stopping on her neck with the heel of my shoe and o could feel the bone snapping and the blood spraying my lower legs and skirt.

She gurgled as she died with her head nearly severed and that's when some powerful force picked both Luthian and I up and started carrying us full speed to an evacuation helicopter or Chinook (not sure what that was but it could hold multiple people)

Needless to say, I was stunned, especially when I heard a rough male voice yell, "THEY'RE ALLOWING FAMILIES IN! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME BORROWING YOU AND TAKING ALL OF US OUT OF HERE!"

I didn't say anything. This weird stranger had saved both of us by looking out for himself.

He got us on one of the helicopters. I finally saw him and he was a mixed black man with bright green eyes and a chin goatee.

He introduced himself as Christian and was friendly.

The vehicle we were in took off into the air. I could see what was happening down below.

It was like a zombie hoard. People fighting each other to kidnap small children to pass off as their own or whatever bags of valuables they had.

I could see the receding scene of the crazy woman I had killed. She was becoming a pile of mush with how many hysterical people trampled her corpse.

It was chaos.

I saw the place get engulfed in flames as we flew away and I can hear the few that got away in the air with us relaxing into crying fits. Even Christian's had silent tears running down his cheeks.

I sat back after inspecting Luthian and cleaning his face the best I could.

I felt numb. Tired and numb. I had just killed someone. I crushed her neck under my heel and fire took care of all the rest.