#its an odd kind of night to be thinking about this stuff but idk

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

you know, we're taught about the horrors of war in school, but sometimes those lessons aren't when it sinks in. sometimes it's watching your friend sitting on the floor of your dorm remember he legally has to sign up for the draft. and he gives up and calls his mom instead, but then it hits you that if the government snaps and pushes the metaphorical big red button, it's your friend that's getting sent out there. your friend that doesn't like to be alone in social situations. your friend with the space themed bedspread and mickey mouse jacket and stuffed tiger and fluffy fold-up chair. and it hits you that these people that get sent out there if the government changes their mind one day aren't names without faces or vice versa. they're the kids you went to elementary school with. they're not just the boys that made fun of you; they're the kids that sat with you when no one else would; the kid that made you laugh because he wanted to. my english teacher senior year told us about this, when the military branches set up tables in the cafeteria the same month we read The Things They Carried. but in high school we were only focused on what came next. the military was just one of those options, and we were barely eighteen, and no one really talked about the draft. but now that we're adults, I'm sticking a poster to my dorm wall while my best friend drops his name into the world's deadliest raffle.

[paishoeyeroh]

Bearer And The Bound

☰ Pairings: Sukuna x Reader, Slight Megumi x Reader

✧ Summary: When you stumble upon an ancient ring in an abandoned house, you unknowingly bind yourself to a cruel, powerful demon who thrives on torment. Trapped in a reluctant bond and forced to navigate a shared existence, Sukuna plots your downfall while you fight to survive his sadistic games. But as your fates entwine and secrets of Sukuna’s dark past begin to unravel, the lines between enemy and ally start to blur.

✧ Tags: True form Sukuna, Enemies to Lovers, Dark Romance, Demonic Bonds, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Sukuna is Bad at Feelings, Possessive Sukuna, Tension, Forced Proximity, Eventual Smut, College/University AU, More Tags To Be Added Later

✧ Status: Ongoing

✧ You can also read it on AO3

☰ CHAPTER SEVEN: Unspoken Truths

Chapter Summary: A night out leads to unexpected revelations.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The bright amber glow of the setting sun shines through the windows, casting long, soft streaks of orange across the living room. You’re sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, scrolling through your phone with the kind of mindless detachment that comes from too much time spent alone. The screen’s faint light reflects in your eyes, its cold glow at odds with the warmth of the room, but you’re not really paying attention to what you’re looking at. News headlines blur together, photos and updates from friends barely register. It’s just noise, something to fill the silence.

Your thumb pauses mid-swipe as your phone buzzes in your hand, the vibration cutting through the quiet. A new message lights up the screen.

It’s from Yuji.

Hey! Haven’t heard from you in a while, is everything okay?

You stare at the screen for a moment, chewing the inside of your lip. You don’t even know how long it’s been since you last saw him, of course he’s noticed your distance. You feel the familiar sensation of guilt tugging at you as you type back.

Yeah, just been busy with school and stuff. You know how it goes. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.

It doesn’t take long for his reply to come in.

Aw, it’s okay! We just miss you! Are you sure everything’s okay? We’ve all been worried, especially Megumi.

Your stomach twists at the mention of Megumi. Before you can think, your fingers start typing.

Especially Megumi? Why do you say that?

Idk, he’s just been different lately I guess. Kinda quiet, distant. Like, more than usual. Especially since that night he stayed over at your place. Did something happen?

Your heart starts to race, a wave of panic crashing over you. Does Yuji know something? Did Megumi tell him about Sukuna? No, you’d definitely know by now if Megumi said something. Right? You hesitate before responding.

No, nothing happened. Why do you ask?

You wait for Yuji’s reply. You can feel the weight of your lie pressing down on you as the seconds tick by.

Like I said, he’s just been off since that night. But it could totally be nothing. Just thought I’d ask!

You let out a breath, though the guilt doesn’t fade. So Megumi hasn’t told them. For a second, you think about what that means—about how much of a burden he’s been carrying on his own. You feel yet another sharp pang of guilt, knowing you’ve been avoiding him for too long now.

I'll reach out to him, you type back to Yuji, and then you close the conversation before you can second guess yourself. You stare at your phone for several seconds before pulling up Megumi’s contact. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a few moments, anxiety bubbling up inside you, but you finally manage to send a message.

Hey. How have you been?

There’s a long pause as you wait for his response. Your thoughts race, wondering what he’s going to say, if he’s even going to reply at all, if you’ve waited too long to fix things between you. Finally, your phone buzzes with his reply.

I’ve been fine. You?

Your fingers hover over the keys, unsure of how to continue. You don’t want to dive straight into everything, but you also don’t want to keep dancing around the issue. You decide to start cautiously.

Yeah, me too. I’ve just been thinking a lot about the other night. About you. I feel really bad, Megumi. I know I’ve been avoiding you.

Another long pause, and you feel the tension mounting. When his reply finally comes, it’s more direct than you expected.

It’s alright. I get it. I’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.

As you respond, you feel the weight of your own guilt pressing down even harder.

I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this. I never wanted you to get hurt.

It’s not your fault. But I don’t think you’re safe with that thing living with you. I still think you need to find a way to get rid of it.

Your heart sinks as you read the words. You know he’s right, but the idea of exorcizing Sukuna—of him being gone forever—feels more complicated now than it did before. You stare at the screen for a long moment, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to figure out what to say next.

I know. I just don’t know how.

Megumi’s response is immediate.

I told you, I can help. We’ll figure it out together.

Your chest tightens, a surge of panic rising up at the thought of losing Sukuna. You press the phone against your forehead and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push away the unsettling emotions clawing their way to the surface. You don’t even know why the thought unsettles you so much. Maybe it’s the bond, or the sheer chaos he’s brought into your life. Maybe it’s the fact that things have been going good lately, and a small part of you has grown strangely accustomed to his presence. Whatever it is, you can’t bring yourself to tell Megumi right now. Instead, you type a quick, simple response.

Thank you, Megumi, for everything. I’ll see you soon.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The next evening, you’re sprawled across your bed, propped up by a few pillows, your laptop balanced on your thighs as you half-heartedly work through an assignment. The cursor blinks on the screen, taunting you with the unfinished paragraph you’ve rewritten three times already.

Your focus keeps drifting, your eyes flickering toward the window or the clock on your nightstand, as if the time passing will magically bring clarity. The room is quiet except for the occasional clatter of keys on your laptop and the faint hum of activity outside.

Your phone buzzes against the bedspread, pulling you out of your daze. You glance over, expecting another email or random app notification, but the screen lights up with a message from the group chat. Nobara’s name flashes at the top. You sigh, reaching for your phone as the faintest smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

Nobara: Let’s go out tonight! I’m so sick of sitting at home every Friday night. Anyone down for a dive bar?

You inwardly groan, already feeling a sense of dread creeping in. You haven’t seen your friends in over two weeks, and after what Yuji said about Megumi being different lately, you know you should probably go. But the thought of bringing Sukuna into such a setting makes your stomach churn. As if on cue, Yuji responds.

Yuji: YESSS! I’m in! Let’s drink until our livers explode!!!!

Yuji: I’ll buy the first round ;)

You roll your eyes, smiling as you read his text. Then, to your surprise, Megumi’s response comes in next. His texts are short, as usual, but the fact that he’s agreeing at all catches you off guard.

Megumi: Fine. I’ll go.

Megumi: Just don’t expect me to drink as much as Yuji.

Your stomach tightens with a sudden bout of anxiety. Megumi hasn’t spoken much since that night, and now he’s agreeing to drinks? Is he trying to make things feel normal again, or is he waiting for the right moment to say something? You can’t tell, and that only makes your nerves worse. Another text comes in.

Nobara: Finally! Now we’re only missing one person…

You hesitate. What do you say? You can’t say no now. They’d be suspicious if you didn’t agree. And to be honest, a night out with friends does sound like fun. With a small sigh, you force yourself to respond.

You: Okay, I’ll come. What time?

The moment you hit send, a flicker of unease rises in your chest. Sukuna will have to come with you, there’s no avoiding that, but the idea of bringing him into a noisy, crowded bar unsettles you. He has been better lately, borderline tolerable, but the thought of him in a space filled with drunk strangers is enough to make your head spin. You can’t shake the feeling that no matter how much control you think you have, Sukuna is always one step ahead, waiting for the perfect moment to remind you of who he really is. Even so, something about the last few weeks makes you pause. He’s been different—less antagonistic, less dangerous. But trusting him completely? That’s a leap you’re not willing to take. Your phone buzzes again, jolting you from your spiraling thoughts.

Nobara: 9pm. Don’t be late ;)

You close the chat and let out a heavy sigh. There’s no getting out of this. You’re going, whether you’re ready for it or not. And if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Sukuna’s presence will probably make this night anything but ordinary.

You step out of your room, making your way toward the living room where Sukuna is sprawled lazily on the couch, taking up as much space as possible. His robe is slightly askew, the fabric pooling around him like some kind of dark, regal mantle, and his expression is one of utter boredom. In his hand, he’s holding one of the decorative items from the coffee table—a small glass paperweight filled with swirling patterns of color. He turns it over in his fingers, watching the light catch on the curves with a look of detached interest, as if the mundane object holds some secret he hasn’t yet unlocked.

For a moment, he glances up, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as they meet yours. A flicker of amusement plays across his face, as though he’s waiting for you to reprimand him. You clear your throat, shoving your unease aside. You know you need to talk to him about tonight, to lay down some ground rules before things get out of hand.

“Hey,” you call out, “we need to talk.”

He sits up, leaning on one arm, his eyebrow raising slightly, “Oh? Are we having another heart-to-heart, princess?”

You try not to roll your eyes at his response. “I’m going out tonight with my friends.”

He tilts his head, the amusement in his expression growing. “And?”

“And,” you say, crossing your arms, “you’re not allowed to cause any trouble.”

He lets out a low chuckle, standing to his full height and casually strolling toward you, his grin widening, “But what if I want to cause trouble?”

You’re unable to suppress your eye roll this time, at his ridiculous attempt to pretend as if he has any control over the situation.

“Look, Sukuna, I’m not playing around. I command you not to cause a scene tonight or bother anyone in any way whatsoever. Okay?”

Sukuna stares down at you, the amusement fading from his face, just slightly.

“Tch. Pulling the command card, huh?” He sneers. “Fine. I’ll behave like a good little demon. But don’t blame me if your precious friends bore me to death.”

You let out a breath, relieved that the conversation went more smoothly than you’d thought it would.

“You can’t be ‘bored to death.’ You’re immortal.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, but you continue, “I want to have fun tonight for once. Please don’t ruin this for me.”

Sukuna sits back onto the couch. “I already told you, I’ll be on my best behavior. Don’t really have a choice after your little command, do I?”

Feeling satisfied with his answer, you turn on your heel and head back to your room to start getting ready.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The door creaks on its hinges as you step into the bar, a faint chill brushing your skin as the heavy air inside the building washes over you. The unmistakable scent of stale alcohol and cigarettes hangs thick, mingling with a hint of something fried wafting from the kitchen in the back. Dim, amber light filters down from hanging fixtures over the booths lining the windows, reflecting faintly against the smudged glass panes.

Your eyes scan the space, taking in the familiar trappings of a dive bar that feels frozen in time. The battered wooden tables are etched with initials and graffiti carved by countless hands, and the leather on the barstools is cracked and peeling from years of use. The walls are plastered with old band posters, each one a relic of another era, their edges curling and colors fading. Neon beer signs buzz faintly from behind the bar, flickering now and then as if tired from decades of being left on.

The place isn’t too busy yet. A handful of people are scattered at tables or leaning against the bar, nursing drinks as they chat quietly. The speakers hum with rock music, just loud enough to vibrate the floor but not so loud that it drowns out the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You’ve always preferred places like this. Dive bars have a certain charm, their imperfections making them feel more lived in, more honest.

You move further inside, weaving past a couple of tables, and let your shoulders relax slightly. It’s not like the clubs you avoid—the sticky floors and dim lighting here feel welcoming in comparison. No blinding strobe lights or pounding bass, no sweaty strangers invading your space or asking for dances you don’t want to give. This place is raw, unpolished, and exactly the kind of scene where you can blend in without trying. The thought steadies you as your eyes scan the crowd for your friends.

For the briefest of moments, you wonder what Sukuna would do if you were in one of those clubs tonight, if some guy tried to hit on you. If, god forbid, you brought one home. The thought sends an odd, unexplainable feeling through you.

Nobara catches your attention, waving at you from a booth in the back, tucked away from most of the crowd. Yuji and Megumi are sitting on one side, so you make your way over and slide in on the opposite side next to Nobara. Yuji stands up to greet you with a hug before he heads to the bar.

To your surprise, Sukuna slides right into the booth beside you, his broad frame crowding your space as his shoulder presses against yours. His warmth is immediate, radiating through the thin fabric of your sleeve, and you shift slightly, unsure whether to lean away or stay where you are. A strange flutter stirs in your chest—unwelcome and unexplained—but you quickly brush it aside, chalking it up to the awkwardness of sitting so close to him like this.

You glance at your friends, hoping they haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, but Sukuna, ever perceptive, catches the flicker of unease on your face. Leaning in closer, his lips hover just over the shell of your ear as he speaks, his voice low and deliberate, cutting through the noise of the bar.

“Can’t really have any fun because of your silly command, now can I? Might as well make myself comfortable. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

His voice is a low rumble, smooth as silk, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You shift in your seat, gripping the edge of the table to steady yourself as Yuji slams down the first round of drinks with a grin.

“First round’s on me!” He announces excitedly, holding up his shot glass. “To a fun night out with the gang!”

You chuckle, raising your glass along with everyone else, and you take the shot, wrinkling your nose as the alcohol burns its way down your throat. Yuji, clearly eager to abide by his earlier comment about “drinking until his liver explodes,” immediately calls for more shots.

“Come on, guys! Don’t make me drink alone,” he pouts at all of you until you agree to join him.

As you glance at Megumi, you notice him watching you with a strange, lingering look. It’s subtle, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes, like he’s trying to read your thoughts. You shift under his gaze, feeling the weight of the secret the two of you share. It’s an odd feeling, being here, surrounded by your friends who have no idea about Sukuna’s existence, while Megumi knows the truth. You offer him a small, apologetic smile. To your relief, he gives you a slight nod in return, his lips curving into a barely-there smile of his own before he turns back to Yuji. His silent acknowledgment eases some of the tension, and the night carries on as normal.

Yuji, as expected, is drinking the most by far, slamming back shot after shot with a grin, trying to get everyone else to match him.

“Alright, time for another round! Megumi, don’t be a fucking pussy!”

Megumi groans, holding his head in his hands. “We literally just took one, Yuji. At this rate, I’ll be passed out in a bush somewhere by the end of the night.”

“We won’t let that happen to you again, Megumi. Not after last time.” Nobara snorts, smirking and looking at you. “What about you? You’re being way too quiet. You gonna let Yuji drink us all under the table?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Fine, one more,” you say, reaching for another shot, but you know it’s a lie. The more you take, the more the nerves you’d been holding onto from earlier slowly dissipate.

Sukuna, for the most part, remains quiet. He leans back in the booth, his eyes flicking between the growing crowd and your group. Occasionally, you catch him watching you, his gaze lingering just a little too long for your comfort, though you’re too buzzed at this point to be truly concerned.

Yuji slaps the table again, his loud laughter echoing over the hum of the bar as he pulls Nobara into some exaggerated story. The corners of your mouth tug upward almost instinctively, and before you know it, you’re laughing along with them. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through your veins, smoothing the edges of your nerves and loosening the tension in your muscles. Slowly, the weight of your worries begin to lift, fading into the haze of the moment. For the first time in months, you feel light, unguarded, and the sensation is a welcome reprieve.

After a few more rounds, the group is decidedly drunk, especially Yuji. His cheeks are tinged a bright pink from the alcohol, his eyes glassy and bright with mischief as he interrupts Nobara who was telling some story about a guy she’d gone on a date with the other week. He leans forward suddenly, both hands on the table, before he turns to Megumi.

“Megumi… you know what your problem is?” Yuji slurs, his voice a little too loud. He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“You’re like, you’re like a cat. Wait! No,” he slams his hands on the table, his eyes widening as he has a sudden realization, “A bear! A big ol’ bear, all grumpy and fluffy, but deep down, you just wanna hug.”

Megumi, now slouched in his seat, frowns at that. His eyelids are heavy, and you can tell he’s just about done with Yuji’s antics, although there’s a small grin fighting to escape the corners of his lips.

“I don’t want a hug, Yuji,” he mutters, his words slow and drawling, “And I’m not a bear. Or a cat. I’m more like a… like a dragon.”

Nobara and Yuji burst out laughing, which makes you laugh in response, nearly spraying your drink all over the table.

“A dragon?! Are you fucking serious? Get a load of this guy,” Nobara pipes in, still giggling, “No, you're definitely a bear. Just look at you!”

She gestures toward Megumi’s disheveled appearance, his eyes half-open and his hair sticking up haphazardly in every direction.

“Like a bear that just woke up from hibernation.”

Yuji lets out another loud cackle, drawing the attention of a couple other patrons in the bar.

“See, I told you!” he leans in closer to Megumi, a wild grin on his face. “Admit it, Fushiguro. You wanna hibernate, don’t you? You wanna curl up in a cave somewhere and sleep for like, a hundred years.”

Megumi sighs, letting his head fall back against the booth dramatically. “If it means I don’t have to listen to you morons, sure,” he grumbles.

“Oh my god,” you slap your hands on your thighs as you try to breathe, wiping the tears of laughter that have formed in your eyes. “Megumi the hibernating bear! That’s so perfect. Big, strong, grumpy bear on the outside, but on the inside? Cuddly as hell.”

Megumi shoots you a glance. “Keep talking and you guys will be the ones hibernating,” he threatens, but the amused glint in his eye gives him away.

Yuji points at him dramatically, his voice loud and teasing. “See! That’s exactly what a grumpy bear would say!”

He leans in closer, wrapping his arm around Megumi as he leans his head on his shoulder. “But secretly, he’s really a teddy bear. Just a big ol’ softie.”

Megumi groans, shoving Yuji off of him. “Get off me, dumbass,” he takes a sip of his drink as Yuji blows him a kiss, pointedly ignoring him. “You’re all insane.”

You raise your glass, Yuji and Nobara joining you before even knowing what they’re cheersing to.

“To Megumi, our resident bear!”

All three glasses clink together dramatically as Megumi slides his hands over his face, looking more than done with your antics, but his grin lingers nonetheless, and you know him well enough to see past his front.

Sukuna shifts next to you suddenly, causing you to jump slightly. You’d almost forgotten he was even there, he’d been so quiet. You glance at him quickly as your friends become engaged in another discussion, and you find that he’s already looking back at you. There’s a strange intensity in his eyes, but you’re not in a state to try and decipher it now, and without being able to talk to him in a place like this, you ignore it, turning back to your friends to join the conversation.

But with your inhibitions lowered, you find yourself leaning into his side, pressing up against his arm. If you feel Sukuna stiffen next to you at the contact, you’re far too drunk to care.

As the night wears on, Yuji becomes even louder, babbling on about random things and trying to convince Megumi to go do karaoke with him later. Nobara’s leaning into you, giggling uncontrollably, and you’re pretty sure Megumi’s had more to drink than he let on, as he looks about two seconds from falling asleep on the table. It’s when you start to feel your head spin that you decide it’s time to head home.

You say your goodbyes, standing up a little too fast, and the room tilts slightly. Sukuna’s hand is suddenly on your elbow, holding you in place.

“Steady now,” he says, his voice low, “Wouldn’t want you to fall on your face in front of your friends.” You feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks as you try to steady yourself. You wave to your friends, who are still caught up in their drunken revelry. You head to the exit doors, with Sukuna trailing close behind.

The walk back to your apartment feels longer than usual, your steps unsteady, the world spinning around you. Sukuna doesn’t say anything, but his presence is solid, like a constant force by your side. When you reach the door leading into your apartment, you misstep, and before you can catch yourself, Sukuna’s arm is around your waist, holding you upright.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble near your ear.

You laugh, the alcohol making you feel bold, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Y’know, you’re not as mean as you pretend to be.”

Sukuna stiffens slightly, and for a moment, you think you’ve said something incredibly stupid.

“Is that so?” He chuckles, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow, your heart beating just a bit stronger in your chest as you will your eyes to focus on his face through your blurry vision. His red eyes are gleaming with amusement.

“Yeah, S’kuna,” you slur, “you could’ve let me fall, just now. But you didn’t,” you grin up at him, placing a hand over his that still grips at your waist. “You’re so nice. Maybe you’re a big, handsome teddy bear.”

His grip on your waist tightens just a fraction as he glances down at your hands, and he leans in close, his breath ghosting against your neck.

“Careful, girl. You’re treading dangerous ground.”

His voice is low and smooth, dripping with something sharp that cuts through the fog in your mind. It’s playful, almost mocking, but there’s a heat in it that makes your breath catch in your throat. You tilt your head at him, a lazy grin spreading across your face as you respond.

“Maybe I like danger.”

For a moment, there’s a heavy silence between you, his eyes searching your face. Then, he pulls back, letting go of your waist.

“You’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed before you say anything else you’ll regret.”

“I am not—“ you hiccup, “I am not drunk!” You sway slightly as you say it, and Sukuna doesn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“Uh huh. Come now,” he puts a hand on the small of your back to steady you as he leads you to your bedroom. You flop down onto your bed unceremoniously, and proceed to promptly pass out on top of the blankets.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache. The strong rays of sunlight filter in through your curtains, shining directly onto your face, making your eyes ache. You groan, rubbing your eyes and shifting in bed, feeling suffocated by the clothes still on your body from the night before. You sit up, glancing around, and notice your shoes are neatly placed by your bedroom door. And somehow, despite your faint memory of collapsing on top of the bed, you’re tucked neatly under the covers.

A glass of water sits atop your nightstand, along with a single aspirin, as if waiting for you. You blink in surprise, piecing together the remnants of last night. You don’t remember taking off your shoes, and you definitely don’t remember pulling the covers over yourself. Your cheeks flush at the thought of Sukuna doing it, the implications swirling in your mind.

Shaking your head, you slowly sit up and reach for the glass, sipping it as your thoughts run wild. You certainly wouldn’t have had the foresight to get yourself the water and aspirin before passing out last night. But would Sukuna really…? No. He wouldn’t. Yet the evidence is right there in front of your face, and you can’t shake the strange warmth that comes over you at the idea. Still, you’ll never hear the end of it if you bring it up.

You crawl out of bed, trying not to move too fast as your head spins. Your hair is a mess, and you’re sure your makeup is smudged across your face. You shuffle into the common space, eyes barely open, as you search the fridge for something quick to eat. You decide on a small container of yogurt, and as you walk over to grab a spoon, Sukuna peers over at you from his spot on the couch with something akin to amusement in his eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he smirks, “Look who finally emerged from her cage. You look like shit.”

You glare at him half-heartedly, too tired to muster up any energy for a real comeback.

“I feel like it too,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as your head continues to pound. You make your way over to the couch, taking a seat next to him. “I didn’t realize you were the type of man to comment on a woman’s appearance first thing in the morning.”

Sukuna chuckles, low and rumbling, “Just stating the obvious, sweetheart.“ Sukuna gives you a knowing grin, his eyes flitting up to the ceiling as if in thought. “You were a little bold last night too, if I recall.”

You freeze mid-bite, staring over at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sukunas gaze lands back on you, peering at you from the corner of his eyes. “Don’t remember, hm?”

You wrack your brain in a panic, trying to recall the events of the night, wondering how badly you may have embarrassed yourself. Suddenly, it all comes back to you.

“You’re a big, handsome teddy bear.”

“Maybe I like danger.”

You suppose you could’ve said worse, with the amount of alcohol in your system, but a wave of embarrassment washes over you all the same. You set the yogurt on the coffee table and hold your head in your hands as you let out a groan.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you mutter, your voice muffled through your fingers, “it was just the alcohol talking.”

Sukunas lets out a low chuckle. “Too late,” he says, clearly enjoying your embarrassment, “it’s already gone straight to my head. Plus, alcohol only serves to make you more honest, if I remember correctly.”

You peek at him through your fingers at his statement, curious. If he remembers correctly? Is he referring to his past, as a human? You want to ask him, but the memory of how he reacted when you first saw a glimpse of his human years still lingers fresh in your mind. It’s enough to make you think twice, deciding it’s best to leave the question unspoken.

You stand up suddenly, a bit too fast as your head pounds from the movement, making you wince.

“I need more food, like a bagel or something. I don’t have the energy to make anything complicated.”

Sukuna watches you as you move back into the kitchen. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today,” he says, “otherwise, I’d be giving you more of a hard time for looking like you just crawled out from the underworld.”

You grab a bagel from the pantry, not sparing him a glance as you start spreading cream cheese on it.

“That’s rich, coming from you. Didn’t you like, literally crawl out from the underworld?”

Sukuna laughs then, his real laugh, and it forces a small laugh of your own in response. You take a bite of your bagel, the laughter still echoing faintly in the back of your mind. The kitchen feels warmer than it should, like the kind of warmth that comes from something shared—something pleasant. Sukuna’s voice drifts lazily from the couch, another dry remark thrown your way, but there’s no bite in it. Only amusement. You chew thoughtfully, glancing his way before turning back to the counter. You shake your head, a small smile making its way across your lips, and focus on your breakfast, letting the moment settle in the quiet rhythm of the morning.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It’s been a couple of days since you last spoke to your friends, and since the night at the bar, you’ve found yourself increasingly distracted by thoughts of Sukuna. You don’t want to admit it—not even to yourself—but something about that night lingers in the back of your mind, tangled up with the way his teasing grin had sent an uninvited warmth creeping through your chest. You take a breath, trying to focus as you move around the apartment, tidying up. The repetitive motion of cleaning helps steady your thoughts, or so you tell yourself, but even as you fold a blanket on the couch or rearrange a stack of books, the growing confusion over your feelings refuses to be pushed aside.

Your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, pulling you out of your thoughts. You wipe your hands on your pants before picking it up. It’s a text from Megumi.

Can we talk?

You know what this is about, and you feel a pit forming in your stomach. You’ve been dreading this conversation, but you knew it was coming. You head to your room, shutting the door behind you, and sit on the edge of your bed. You take a deep breath and type out your reply.

Yeah, sure.

A few seconds pass before your phone buzzes again, with an incoming call this time. Your hands feel clammy as you accept the call and press the phone to your ear.

“Megumi?”

“Hey,” his voice is calm, but you can hear the underlying tension. “I wanted to talk to you about your… about Sukuna.”

You sigh, a sense of heaviness settling onto you at the thought of the conversation ahead.

“Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a pause on the other end before Megumi continues.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I know it’ll be hard, but we need to find a way to get rid of him. It’s too dangerous for you to keep him around. You know that.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you’re about to say.

“I dont… I don’t want him gone, Megumi,” you confess quietly, feeling small.

There’s a longer pause, and you can feel the shift in the conversation.

“What do you mean?” His voice is sharper now, clearly frustrated. “You have to want him gone. He’s a literal demonic entity.”

Your teeth gnaw the inside of your cheek, and a quiet ache blooms in your chest, heavy with unspoken shame.

“I know. I know he’s dangerous. But… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

Megumi lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. What’s complicated about it? That thing is evil. You can’t seriously think keeping him around is a good idea.”

“I’m not saying it’s a good idea,” Your voice rises in defense, feeling cornered. “I just… I don’t think I can do it. I can’t get rid of him.”

Megumi is quiet on the other end, but his disapproval is palpable, lingering in the silence like an unspoken judgment.

“Why not?” he finally asks, his voice softer but still strained. “Why would you want to keep him around? This isn’t like some pet you can take care of. He’s going to hurt someone eventually, whether it be you, or someone else.”

You struggle to put it into words, grasping at fragments of meaning as the confusion churns restlessly within you.

“I don’t know why, okay? I just… I feel like things have changed. He’s not the same as when he first appeared. We’re… I think we’re friends.”

Megumi’s sigh is heavy, and you can tell he’s trying to be patient, even though it’s clear he’s not understanding.

“This isn’t like you. You’re not the type to get caught up in something like this. It’s not safe.”

“I know,” you whisper, feeling torn. “Trust me, I know. But I’m not in danger. Not from him, at least.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice is sharp again, but it softens a moment later. “Look… I know I can’t force you to do anything. But this isn’t something you can just brush off.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of his concern. “I know, Megumi, but… I just don’t think I can get rid of him. Not right now.”

Megumi is silent for a long time before he finally speaks again, his voice resigned. “Alright. But if you ever change your mind… or if anything happens… you call me. Immediately. No matter what. Okay?”

“I will,” you promise, your heart heavy with your spoken confession.

“I just…” Megumi pauses, his voice quiet now. “I really do worry about you, you know. A lot.”

Your chest tightens at his words, your eyes suddenly filling with unshed tears. You try to keep your voice steady as you reply.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

There’s another pause, and then he sighs. “Take care of yourself, alright? If you ever need anything, anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. Please.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Alright. Take care.”

“Goodbye, Megumi.”

The call ends, and you sit in the stillness that follows, the echo of the conversation lingering in the air. You’ve said it now—admitted the truth you’ve been avoiding: you don’t want Sukuna gone. But even as the words settle, guilt coils tightly in your chest, sharp and relentless, knowing the toll this is taking on Megumi.

You drop your phone onto the bed with a sigh and rub your temples, trying to ease the headache that’s beginning to form. There’s a storm brewing inside of you—a mix of confusion, guilt, shame, and frustration.

You feel torn between your loyalty to your friend and this inexplicable connection to Sukuna. Maybe you could continue to push it all down, ignore it like you’ve been doing. But you know you can’t keep running from your reality forever.

Just as you’re sinking deeper into your thoughts, the door to your room creaks open without warning. Sukuna leans against the doorframe, both sets of arms crossed, his eyes focused on you. You glance up at him, feeling a mixture of emotions bubble to the surface. Part of you is frustrated with him—frustrated with the whole situation. And yet, there’s that strange feeling that creeps in when he’s near, the feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since that god forsaken dream.

“Brooding again, hm?” His tone is sharp, laced with mockery, but there’s something quieter that lingers beneath his words.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, turning your gaze away from him, unable to meet his eyes just yet. Sukuna doesn’t move from the door, his gaze careful.

“You’ve said that before, and it’s just as unconvincing now.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh. “It’s nothing. Just… talked to Megumi.”

There’s a pause, and you feel Sukuna’s eyes linger on you. You can tell by his silence that he’s not entirely thrilled about the mention of Megumi.

“Oh?” His voice holds a hint of derision. “Let me guess—he wants to try to get rid of me. Again.”

You can’t help but scoff. “Of course he does. He doesn’t exactly love the idea of me being stuck with a cursed spirit.”

Sukuna grins at that, but it’s not a malicious grin—it’s more amused, as if he finds the whole thing ridiculous.

“He’s not wrong, you know. You should want me gone.”

You freeze at his words, another wave of guilt and shame crashing over you. You don’t respond at first, unsure of what to say. But the silence only seems to stretch between you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow, watching you intently, his smile fading.

“But you don’t, do you?” His voice drops, quieter now, softer, laced with inquisitiveness, though you’ve got a feeling he already knows the answer. You swallow hard, your throat tightening under his stare.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Sukuna steps closer, standing in front of you now, his eyes boring into yours. A playful grin tugs at the corners of his lips, tilting his head.

“Don’t tell me you’ve started to grow attached to me, now. Silly girl.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t bring yourself to respond. The room feels suddenly smaller, the air thick with an unspoken tension as Sukuna continues to watch you. After a moment, you stand abruptly.

“I—I just… need some time to think.”

You head toward the bathroom, feeling the sudden need to escape the weight of the conversation. As you brush past him and head into the hallway, Sukuna doesn’t follow or press the issue. But just as you’re about to step inside, his voice reaches you from behind—casual, almost indifferent.

“Don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

His tone is light, but you catch the subtle edge to it, as if there’s more he’s not saying. You pause at the door, his words hanging in the air between you. Without turning around, you nod once, acknowledging the truth behind his statement. Then, you step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a sigh, relieved to have escaped his interrogation.

You turn the knob to the shower, needing something to distract yourself. As you stand there, looking into the mirror, the cool tile beneath your feet steadying you, your mind is racing. You grip the sides of the sink. Everything feels so confusing—your feelings for Sukuna, your guilt about Megumi, the strange sense of security you feel in Sukuna’s presence. But one thing is clear. You don’t want Sukuna to leave.

And that scares you more than anything.

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☰ Taglist: @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

[dykesynthezoid]

Hey so there's been another bullshit "tumblr user is a zionist" callout post made about you and I just want to say as a pro-palestinian non jew. Its bullshit and transparently anti-Semitic and I'm so sorry about it. Putting a post about how Jews are held to an impossibly high standard in pro-palestinian spaces in a callout post about a (soon-to-be) Jew as evidence of their Badness is simply beyond parody. I just wanted to pop in and say not everyone agrees with them and some of us have the critical thinking skills to recognize an anti-Semitic smear campaign when we see one. My apologies again. Im deeply embarrassed on behalf of this entire fandom that this is happening.

Yeah I’m not surprised, I knew it might happen eventually. I tried talking to an iwtv mutual about a different callout post last night and they appear to have blocked me now. Which sucks. I tried to be really detailed and honest about why this is all so messed up without being too accusatory or anything like that; in the past I’ve had success having conversations like that where I just tried to be straight forward with someone I had a previous online relationship with. But I guess not this time.

Idk man. If people have been following me this entire time idk how they can think I somehow became an evil genocide supporter when they weren’t looking. Like I haven’t been quiet talking about antisemitism, and, simultaneously, I have pro-Palestinian posts on this blog. I just don’t even know what to say. I even said outright to that (ex) mutual that I don’t identify as a zionist bc it’s at odds with my other (anarchist-leaning) political beliefs. Which frankly I shouldn’t have to give that sort of specific reasoning bc it’s not anyone’s business. I have a right to be listened to. If I say I want a free Palestine, I deserve to have that taken seriously and not be treated like I’m a secret evil scheming liar. I’m a human being.

I think the most frustrating part is that sometimes there’s just no way to get through to people. There’s no way to make them listen to the actual words I say. And I’d already lost a lot of online connections bc of that in the last year, but not any mutuals whose blogs I enjoyed that much, who I felt like I saw eye to eye with that much. Frankly I got really vulnerable in the messages I sent them; I wanted to come from a really genuine and unguarded place. I openly described how isolating these feelings of alienation are; how it very much does feel like Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis. Like you wake up one morning and everyone has decided you’re vermin.

But also it seems like they’re in a very close knit circle along with the person who made the first call out post that started this, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that they decided to fall in line with their friend, who they’re definitely closer to than they and I ever were. Who knows if they even read past the first sentence of my message.

Idk. I hope maybe one day the people doing this stuff; not just these people specifically, but everyone online who’s engaged in these behaviors; realize their mistake.

I am very, very grateful for your kindness, and I apologize preemptively if you get targeted because of this ask. And you don’t have to feel embarrassed; other people are going to do what they’re going do, and your actions speak for themselves. Please know that the support means more than you can know.

[elis-blawg222]

November 3 - Sunday

The way that this was yesterday, and I had to sit and think for like 5 minutes about what happened LOL.

I woke up kind of later than I wanted, but that's okay. I think I only felt like it was late because the time changed, and also I didn't wake up a million times during the night like I usually do, so I felt like I slept a really long time. After I got up I like immediately knew that it was gonna be like... a weird day. Idk really how to explain it, but sometimes I feel like there's so much pressure weighing down on me. Like there's just pressure and weight pulling down on me and breathing feels heavy.

... that's kind of a lot LOL but that's how I felt when I got up. I've gotten sorta used to it so I usually just try to ignore it and make the most of the day. Sometimes if I'm lucky it will go away eventually. But this morning it was hard to get out of bed. I eventually convinced myself that I could do something kind of easy and make my bed and take a shower. It still felt hard, but I did it.

At some point Angel called me, and THE WAY I CANNOT MAKE THIS SHIT UPPP. I felt soooo much better. I told you guys our calls does something to my brain chemistry.

I went to my dad's house later on (sobs) and he didn't apologize for embarrassing me the other day in front of his friends, which why would he tbh bc he never thinks he does anything wrong. Then, he made me go say hi to our family friends and it was... WEIRD.

They ended up like trying to guess my weight??? It was genuinely so so weird and odd. But that just makes me feel like my dad has been talking to more people about that/me losing weight. WHY. LEAVE ME ALONE. And I'm not even underweight??? I'm not even close. I'm closer to being overweight than underweight pls let me be..

I went to work later on and it was fineee. Then, when I got home I had my Omad. I had a cal limit of 350.

Desc: Banana cream greek yogurt, 1 cup of frozen cherries, string cheese. (plus my lovely stuffed animal, what a cutie)

This flavor of yogurt has to be one of my favorites, its so good. And the cherriesss oh my gosh yum. They were a bit weird to eat because cold stuff hurts my teeth, but that's okay. I was also so happy to have cheese today since I love cheese so so much. I think it's becoming one of my favorite foods, I wish it were lower in cal.

Total Cals: 320

While I was on the phone with Angel we also created "The Holy Pentagon." LOL it consists of:

Cheesecake

Cake pops

Brownies(or blondies)

Cake with jelly

Tiramisu

(I love angel)

That's all that happened for Sunday, byeee! ^3^

[bisluthq]

I saw people saying they remembered articles from February 2020 about Jason and Olivia separating but living together because of covid and the children, which disappeared around January. To me, the timeline doesn't make sense. Why was Jason perfectly happy with Olivia saying they split in February 2020 in the first article in November 2020 if he already knew about Harry? Also, Harry’s team putting an article out saying he wasn't to blame for this affair, and he was told they weren't together less than 12 hours later was funny.

Look, essentially you have three separate teams (Olivia’s, Jason’s and Harry’s) all doing separate things + the DWD promo team/the studio’s doing its own thing. Then you have the three of them also all doing their own separate things. I don’t think we’ll ever know exactly what happened because obviously they all have reasons to lie lol and did and will. Jason would obviously not want to have been publicly cucked - no man, let alone a Gen Xer man who’s very much a dude - would want that out there. It’s not imo that sympathetic to have had your BM fuck Harry Styles while living with you, it’s kind of deeply embarrassing. So I can see him also being invested in rewriting the timeline to look like he was less of a cuckold. Olivia obviously lies (we know this) so she likely was lying to both men. Harry wouldn’t want to be seen as splitting up a family tbh so whatever he knew or didn’t know like he also would’ve been invested in making the timeline like… more palatable lol so Jason and Olivia split up but were amicable co-parents and then he and Olivia started dating like that’s obviously a better version to put out than “Olivia cheated”? Especially since they still had the movie to put out so like 💀💀💀

idk man people who aren’t even famous lie and fudge timelines. My partner’s ex told people she met her AP the night he (my bf/her ex/her then husband) kicked her out and that they met on accident. She said she got kicked out after a big blowout fight, it was the middle of the night (this part is true) and she went to a friend’s house (unclear if this is true) because she was upset (probably true) etc and this new guy coincidentally happened to be staying there and that’s when they met. But like that’s not true lol. She got kicked out because her then husband saw messages on her phone from this other guy after she came home late and drunk after a meet up with this guy. Odds are she actually went to that guy’s house tbh and she def knew him - biblically - at that stage. But she tried to lie about it lol because saying “I got caught cheating and my husband told me to GTFO” isn’t a very sympathetic story. She also apparently then changed that story a bit when probed and like said my partner was distant and cold and shit and basically emotionally abusive which drove her to cheat/look for other guys lol. Again, more of a sympathetic story than “she cheated and got caught”. She also well likely believes some version of that second story idk she probably thinks if my bf/her ex was different then she wouldn’t have cheated. But also she stayed with the AP until he died in COVID because he was an anti vaxxer and anti masker and stuff but also recent tea I obtained through mutual friends because I’m xoxo gossip girl tbh heavily suggests that she cheated on that new/now dead guy too so maybe she should be asking herself why she keeps cheating lol idk.

Idk that lady’s thought processes like she’s just super fucking crazy imo and kinda a bad person. Not because she’s my bf’s ex because especially when I’ve been pissed at him I’ve investigated this and y’all know how much I like doing detective work and I really am a girls’ girl (pussies included and like he is not wrong in that she’s attractive so my drunk ass one time was like “how funny would it be if her and I got together” and then I truly FBI’d) and I’ve actively wanted to know like what he lied about (because everybody lies) or where the piping hot tea is being poured (I want to be there) but what I keep coming up with… is she is a crazy ass cunt lol who lies and cheats and has done so since she was a teenager (because a friend of hers from school is still mutuals with both her and my bf and I quizzed her - subtly - and like… bruh this lady is insane lol which actually at the time was an L for me because it was during our break and I was trying to prove he is always the problem).

my point is people involved in cheating generally speaking lie so idk why you’d expect to figure out exactly who knew what and when about complete strangers. I wouldn’t trust like friends’ versions of their cheating accounts 100% let alone the cheating accounts of total strangers. I assume Jason, Olivia and Harry all lied (to each other and to their teams and their teams lied too because it was a bad vibe situation???)

I’m not sure who the crazy ass cunt is in their situation. All or none idk. Could go either way.

[unwelcome-ozian]

hey so i have a question and idk if this is an ask youre ok with answering, if not its fine- but so a week or so ago my mom offhandedly made a really weird really specific joke about me being fed balloons to traffic drugs as a child, and then immediately before i even said anything, started really aggressively saying she was joking and when i joked that it was a little suspicious that she was so aggressive about clarifying it was a joke, she said (slight paraphrasing) “well i thought i should say it because otherwise you’d be like ‘oh i don’t remember my childhood, did that actually happen?,,’” and then basically called me crazy by comparing me to a really notoriously eccentric friend i have, and when i called her out on it she accused me of being the one who was calling him (and myself) crazy, then when i said she was acting weird she started getting really flustered and it was super awkward and she was over explaining in a way she only does when she’s lying or trying to cover her ass, she kept giving me reasons that i wasn’t a drug mule as a child, and then she left extremely quickly and unnaturally after the whole interaction. I don’t have any memories of this, but the whole thing left me feeling extremely uneasy in a way i usually am not. I felt like I was in danger the rest of the night and even ended up sleeping with a weapon, which to be fair is a feeling i’ve had before but it’s never been exactly like this. I really felt like i found something out that i wasn’t supposed to, and that they would kill me for it. i do have ocd and this could’ve just been that, but it was weird. it felt more real and ive been very off balance since this, feeling very unsafe everywhere i go. i have a weapon by my bed at all times now just in case, but i have no idea why i am doing this because i have no memory of having any reason to. 

im very polyfragmented (dont know why or what caused it, know i experienced some kind of severe childhood abuse but generally don’t remember anything from childhood before age 10) and i’ve been splitting much more than usual since this, idk why.

I have been badly triggered by mention of organized crime and drug rings in the past but i assumed it was just because it was a heavy topic. I also have symptoms and vague memories of csa, as well as csem/csam. some of my alters are intensely triggered by the word magazine, i dont know why.

i am having trouble getting this out, i feel like my mind is trying to stop me if that makes any sense,  i feel like im sealing. my fate by typing this. i dont think i am but its a very heavy feeling. i just want to know if this is something i should actually be concerned about, or if i am just crazy and an attention seeking liar making up false stories for pity. my parents dont seem capable of anything like this at all, and i know i at least had a regular side of my life as a child with friends and school and stuff, but for some reason I’m scared and have been scared since my mom mentioned it, and i just need to know if this anything i should be worried about, or look into, or anything. if theres a possibility i experienced something awful and don’t remember it at all. its been really bugging me and scaring me for a bit,

im sorry this is a really long confusing ask, youre free to delete it. my mind is quite jumbled. sorry

No worries about the length of the ask. I want to assure you that you can write as much as you feel comfortable with.

I agree with you, it is an odd joke that your mother made. There is a saying that behind a joke there is some truth in it. 

Ultimately you know your mother. Does she often turn things around on you when you have disagreements? From what you described it sounds like gas-lighting.

Feeling safe is so important. I understand the need/feeling/desire to sleep with a knife. Feels safe, I get it.  My question is, who are “ they”? Who would try to kill you?

Which leads me back to safety. If you are physically safe, which only you can answer, and have been then you are likely safe.  If not, what things do you feel you are able to do to work towards safety?

There are parts in your system who do remember the abuse and what occurred. With time perhaps they will share those things.

Take your time in deciding what you want to do. The choice is yours to make. There is something awful that occurred that led to you living with DID.

Take care,

Oz

[foundmars]

okay i had hopped on HW2 today to just mess around and see after the new content update and noticed some things and had some thoughts and maybe theories from the update and stuff before and just want to dump it here. mind you its early in the am for me so i may not make sense

As i was walking around the lobby, i messed with the little character wheel up infront by the stage that displays the characters, just curious what all they looked like again so i looked at each character i had. I actually almost forgot about glamrock bonnie being in there. and like yeah his pose is something like he is in shock/ trying to defend himself. but i scrolled to another character, glamrock freddy and noticed how odd of his pose it is. idk if its lighting of the angle from where i was seeing at but his expression looked shocked? and his body language mimics or rather mirrors Bonnie's pose.

Which got me thinking...was there anything stated in the game that Freddy not know how Bonnie was gone or where he was? What if this is a freeze frame moment of them two in that backroom together before disaster stuck? What if Freddy witnessed Monty kill Bonnie. And Monty is going after Freddy next. Like is there anything in the game that had stated otherwise? I can imagine something of Freddy being there and maybe memory wiped and given the corprate "Bonnie is retired/on vacation/going elsewhere" kind of stuff but is still sad that his best friend is gone. But that same attitude can go to if Freddy does remember the incident. Freddy isnt mean to Monty in base game but they dont seem close either like he is to lets say Chica (i cant rememeber if he says anything that might hint he knows Roxy well) because that isnt in his personality per say.

I might be thinking too much into this scenario but i just thought it was two very odd poses that complimented each other to two very relevant characters.

~~~~

Also another theory. about dca

I've seen other people talk about this but i need to like dive deeper about it bc i love dca but i love to see any angst lore from them (because we literally know nothing about them in cannon.)

So the whole "DCA is actually part of the carnaval era of fnaf" yes. i agree. there is a suspscious amount of similarity to the build of mimic and the dca. like the hand structure, the teeth (why would the dca need teeth behind a mask??), and the exposed wires outside of frame, and they are both the only humanoid animatronics i believe. Besides the puppet. But the puppet has none of those features. That leads me to believe that the dca and mimic had the same uh maker. like theres a certain style to the animatronics that you can tell who built what.

I forget the guys name, but basically the guy that made the mimic might have made the dca as well.

Why have moon be seen as the aggressive one? Why have him set at the carousel? the "What makes you so special line".

There is a small part of my brain that believes that maybe moon was first to have a body. the original was something to like the jack-o-moon design where moon was all fall fest themed as a scarecrow. He was meant to be scary and scare the kids. Sun during those carousel games would be the announcer but we never saw him.

but. i could be half wrong about that.

scratch the moon was the first part. they shared a body from the start with their original design at fall fest. Jack-o-moon was just a cosmetic for moon to comeout. at night (or something like that). in the house that was revealed in the puzzle, we see quite a few sun and moon images on the panel. sure its a classic design. but you cant just put a sun and moon and NOT think about the two vague characters that they have that are literally resemble the sun and moon.

Their body is dated. you can see in security breach that they have no recharge station, not even one in their room (which by the way takes lots of effort to figure out and get into in sb), they have wires STICKING OUT and they are very dirty compared to all animatronics. even so you can say that music man and the dca are the only animatronics that dont erode so rapidly during the game. Their design is so different from the rest of the cast. Their design is not sleek. They arent even an animal! Heck, the dj is referenced as a spider and thats something! and we just have a sun and moon.

My brain is getting fried but basically like

sun is really the only passive one. sure hes sassy but he never kills (except in hw2 in a certain circumstance so does that mean he can get the virus?) and its painted and even told as moon wasnt always this aggressive and that he was soft, and gentle to the littles. So did he always have the scare factor bc of his fall fest days and had to be programmed to be softer? Sun had to be around kids anyway to deal with since fall fest, and be all announcery, but he carries that into his theater kid/childcare roll in sb. was moon more likely to get the virus becasue he went under so many changes before? im not sure if that made sense. but like moon went through the most personality changes over the course of his time.

I also have so many questions about eclipse too (like why is it jack-o-moon and not jack-o-eclipse?) but i think that is to be descovered or to be believed its a merged program of sun and moon when needed.

but yeah thats my ramble. idk if it got anywhere or made any sense if at all but im going to eep

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary331

8/16-17/24

friday - saturday

watched 2 movies today...

last night i asked my friend for a bunch of silent films to watch, one of the ones he suggested was the marriage circle, a lubitsch film, i decided to because it seemed kind of normal i suppose?? i dunno, but i ended up quite liking it, the more i think about it, the more i like it, it's just rather funny, it's not much more than rather funny as well, but i like the way it's funny, and i like how silent films thus far seem to handle guilty characters, the panic and the way others don't see it, the invisibility of the obvious guilt, the fact that you can't be so guilty something disappears, that it has to be about expressing it, coming to terms with it, making something pass, this feels different to what we see now. though that's hard to articulate because #sleepy so i'll try tomorrow. tomorrow i'll probably watch nosferatu.

the 2nd film i watched today was l'etoile de mer, by man ray, it's watchable on yt:

i love the shot that's here as the thumbnail, definitely a very beautiful short. the poem used in it has me curious about desnos, so i dled a book of his poetry, to see what that's like, has me very curious about man ray's other films, so maybe tomorrow i'll also do another one of those? or i might try the short artaud wrote. i'm very excited to uncover other surrealist films, hopefully i can find more stuff from the 20s, it feels odd to me that there's not a ton listed places but there must be more than i see, i suppose it's also a good idea to widen the search to also include dadaist films.

again i'd like to say more about the movie... there's a lot there about how it handles its procession of images, the grammar of that up against the lubitsch, for instance, here the presence of nudity, relaxed bodies, a greater sense of informality, subtlety in the acting, in lubitsch, and with most narrative films probably of the time, the actors had to do that to get themselves across, and create excitement, and it is also a meaningful and interesting way to express emotion, the actors in surrealist film, at least in man ray, they're not less weird, really, they are obviously of this time in some way, but there's more slackness, less cartoonish maybe. but in the editing and movement of the camera too, there are many differences, and then the ways all of this is organized, images fall back on themselves in man ray's film, at one point the explosion of all these simultaneous images, simultaneity in lubitsch does occur in ways, mostly for gags, and never with editing, so much as long sustained shots and then the consequences of whatever mishap. it's fascinating.

but i gotta sleep, we went out today and weren't out late just for a while, since 2 pm, and we're just so sleepy from out dumb schedules getting fixed. it was great to see our friend, and we saw our other friend at the book store she works at, we went out to eat after, i saw a kid unwrap his burrito at a restaurant and hold the tortilla over the plate, everything falling off, seeing him learn how things work wwas kind of awesome, and i made a stupid joke that inspired some writing. in the bookstore i read some books that i cannot buy... i read some of horse crazy by gary indiana, and some of the passion according to g.h. by clarice lispector, both are books i would really like to have and read all of... but cannot atm. i will pick through desnos' poetry book that i dled, i think, at least, and tomorrow try and get thru more of dennis coopers new book, and work on music. that might seem like a lot... but i can do it.

reading felt good today, it centers me a bit i think, especially gary indiana, idk why, his way of writing connects to me somewhere inside, some kind of thing to do with all the distance i feel, the ways i ruminate and all that...

gotta... sleep... i took selfies too today, i'll post them tomorrow also... promisszszsse

so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wolfofartblock]

Trying to get some semblance of a story put together for the Researchers Au because I want to be consistent with what I draw, but I'm not a writer lol, so this is going to be long, it might run on and on, it'll probably be full of typos and errors because I'm also listening to music while typing it up, and more so please be patient >.> Things stil might change but for now I'm mostly satisfied with this.

Researches in the south pole find two creatures trapped in ice, as if they were frozen in the middle of a big fight. Both are cut and thawed out to be studied.

Dr. Mercer is such an important and world-renowned scientist that the (corporation/organization/government/idk) that the team works for lets him do whatever he wants when it comes to the research project. This includes him being the sole person allowed in the labratory containing the first creature's body (Alex).

Dr. Mercer was weirdly obsessed with Desmond, but also really hated him. Didn't think he deserved to be there, just like most of the scientists there, but to the extreme. While studying the creature he comes to theorize some of its abilities, including how it's able to consume and replace any organism, but of course this is just at theory and he needs a ginea (<- how do you spell that) pig.

Dr. Mercer then lures Desmond into the lab and attempts to get the creature to eat him. This backfires. Even while trapped in ice and subsequently the cyropod, the creature was aware of the presences and actions of each person at the station it came into contact with. It kind of liked Desmond and it was aware of what Dr. Mercer was trying to do. So it ate him instead. Easy.

Desmond obviously sees this, tries to tell the others but is not believed when "Dr. Mercer" appears behind him looking just fine and clearly not eaten. The real Dr. Mercer had never shared his theories with anyone, so no one suspected a thing.

Once everything is settled (for the night), Desmond goes to bed and the creature disguised as Dr. Mercer (Alex) goes to find the creature #2 to finish what they started however many thousands of years ago, but it's gone. No where to be seen. He thinks maybe it took advantage of the chaos Desmond caused running down the station's hallways screaming about Dr.Mercer's death. He swears and leaves the room.

For the next week Alex takes advantage of Dr.Mercer's refusal to allow anyone into the lab, pretending to hole up in there studying while actually crawling around through vents and pipes trying to find signs of the other creature so that he can take them down. Instead all he manages to do is give Desmond 20+ heart attacks a day and once again every time Desmond tries to tell someone he just saw something, he's brushed off, but at the same time some are worried. They think the isolation is getting to him, the way it did to his predecessor, Clay. They ask Alex to keep any eye on him because they've "noticed" the two getting closer recently anyways, but Alex was already watching him due to other reasons: already being 100% Desmond is a human since they were in the same room together when everything went down (or at the very least, that his locations can be checked and verified in some way or another the day of) (Thank you @teecupangel for that!)

At the start of the second week (as in week 2 since Dr. Mercer was eaten), one of the many sled dogs go missing. Desmond is distraught and some of the others at the station go from worried for him to scared of him. There's talk of sending him home or possibly getting him into some trouble. He's reprimanded and sent on his way. It's after this that him and Alex really do start to become a little close. There's still some odd behaviors from him here and there that weird Desmond out (stuff that Desmond would've easily connected to Alex being one of the creatures had the rest of the station not already convinced him he's being paranoid/crazy/needs help/etc.).

At the start of the third week, another dog goes missing. Desmond is once again pulled aside but this time with the promise that soon he will be returning home. He's either 1) incompetent and can't take care of them properly or 2) doing something to them and it's scaring the other station members (alongside his other recent actions). He finally goes to confront Alex about everything, because he knows that Alex knows something. Alex finally admits to being creature #1 and answers every question Desmond throws at him. He also admits he needs help finding creature #2 and Desmond is probably the only one who's able; Alex stating that he's noticed Desmond's abnormally keen senses for a human (or maybe that he might have a 6th sense altogether) and his knowledge of their environment and survival skills (thank you @twitcherpated-replies) would go a long way. Desmond says he wouldn't be able to because he leaves at the start of week 4. Alex says by then it might be too late. Creatures like them get stronger the more they eat, and the fresher the food they eat is. Alex being the good creature he is has been eating normal human food, and while it doesn't do much, it keeps him sustained. After some talking, Desmond of course agrees to help. They share whatever information they have with each other, anything and everything (turns out Desmond has way more information than Alex does because like he said, Desmond has something of a 6th sense and has noticed more wrong at the station than he's let on to others), and come up with a list of suspects that creature #2 could be: Daniel Cross, Elizabeth Greene, Lucy Stillman, etc. (thank you again @teecupangel for that one)

While carefully observing their suspects, Desmond questions how they're going to stop creature #2 if it's stronger than Alex. Alex brings up a drug Dr. Mercer had created called bloodtox, one that he was going to use on Alex had things actually gone according to his plans and Alex had eaten Desmond. They have three viles. Alex has one, Desmond has another and the last is back in the lab.

Finally, the day before Desmond is set to leave, they confront their #1 suspect, Lucy. While doing this, they're stopped by creature #2 revealing itself and the fact that it was just sticking close to Lucy because she was a really good scapegoat for them. A big fight ensues.

Alex's syringe is broken in the fight against creature #2. Desmond's syringe is broken while luring creature #2 away from Alex's unconcious body, letting himself get chased down multiple hallways and even thrown around a little. Rebecca runs into a security room and puts the building on lockdown (think of the doors closing in among us lolol), momentarily cutting creature #2 in half long enough for Desmond to get up and run and hide (2 doors closed in on it). The entire time it tries to go through the station, Rebecca is slamming doors in its face or turning on something or another to slow it down. It finally gets fed up, stares into the nearest camera at her, and flings itself into a vent. Desmond realizes creature #2 is no longer after him but after her and goes to stop it. Lucy and Shaun are left to find the last syringe. After some debate between each other they take the bloodtox out of the syringe because clearly these things aren't working. They find an empty spray bottle and decide that it'll just have to do. Desmond gets to the security room just in time to save Rebecca and Alex gets there just in time to save the both of them, but creature #2 is still stronger and the presence of Rebecca and Desmond is a little bit of a hinderance. Finally Shaun and Lucy show up and just start spraying creature #2. It's working, it's getting weaker and weaker. It tries to swat the spray bottle out of their hands but unlike the syringes, it can't shatter on impact with the ground or wall, so Alex just picks it right back up and keeps spraying them.

Finally the fight is over, Alex wins and consumes creature #2, to the horror of everyone but Desmond.

[prolix-yuy]

So I was having a watching music videos but doing stuff around the house day today.. And one of my comfort/childhood Trace Adkins songs came on.. It was Swing ( I know I'm an odd one for it being a childhood song, my mom raised me on his music and just all around more adult music.. 😆 ) Anywaysssss! It made an idea pop into my head cause I subconsciously have been on the look out for ideas to send ya after you posted your last part to the wonderful Frankie story saying you were open to ideas and such. 🤗💞

Enough of my rambling, on to the actual idea.. 😆🤣🏃💨

So maybe since they are in full cuteness of being a relationship, that Frankie would want to teach reader how to do something he loves doing.. And or her doing the same with Frankie.. 🤔🤔 Since their lives are definitely officially merging together now ( in the cutest way cause they are couple goals,lol). 💞🤗

Idk why watching/listening to swing made that kind of idea pop into my head, but it did.. 🤣🤷‍♀️

You can have full ideas of all of it, whatever kinda active they wanna teach,etc.. 💞 I just had some of small baking ingredients to gift you if you wanted to make the meal.. 😆💞 idek where that analogy came from but oh well, lmao.

But I hope your day/week has been amazingggg! 💗🤗 And no worries whatsoever if this idea does not work with you, etc. Just wanted to pass an idea on if you wanted it. 💞😊

Comfort hugs and extra sending of loveeee if you are in need of them. 💞🤗😘 ( Adorable handsome Mr. Pascal and Morales to make you smile maybe too) 💞🤗

You just unlocked a bunch of foundational memories with this ask! I grew up listening to a lot of Grateful Dead and bluegrass music (thanks Dad), so I know what you mean when your childhood songs don’t line up perfectly with when you were a kid.

Hmm, Frankie or Ms J teaching each other things…

I was trying to think of what might come up here. Frankie has a lot of interesting talents (that Ms J has definitely been privy to). But then I was contemplating your musical inspiration…and I remembered Pedro is going to play Joel in The Last of Us…and I figured out where this should go. If you’ve played The Last of Us 2, you’ll recognize a bit of where I’m pulling this from.

This one got away from me a little bit, I hope you enjoy!

Takes place after Something More.

Future Days

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish" Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"

Summary: What have Frankie or Ms J taught each other?

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, past Sex Worker!Frankie, watch me make up shit about sex work, The TF boys being too fun for their own good, Santi singing needs its own warning, descriptions of male and female bodies, breast play, unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), some minor cum play if you squint, me only knowing the smallest amount about playing guitar.

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist

It was at another one of the Miller’s barbecues, much later in the summer when the oppressive heat of the day kept everyone in lightweight clothes and the night brought out camping blankets, that Frankie found out you still had your share of surprises.

The sun had set, leaving you around “another fuckin’ great bonfire” according to Benny, when Santi disappeared into the house. When he returned with a shit-eating grin and a guitar in one hand, everyone but you groaned.

“Santi, if we have to listen to your caterwauling one more time, I’m going to put that guitar right into the fire,” Will complained, though it sounds good-natured. Santi scoffs and sits in the chair next to yours, giving you his full attention since no one else seems to want it.

“Don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous I’ve got an instant in with the ladies,” he whispers, strumming a few chords and raising an eyebrow at you. You smirk and nod, feigning an impressed expression as he prepares to serenade all of the grimacing boys. Frankie is walking back to sit on your other side, placing a fresh Corona in your hand.

You push the lime through the tight neck of the bottle as Santi does a not-half-bad rendition of “Dancing in the Moonlight,” which despite their moans gets the boys’ toes tapping. Santi’s voice is clear and lifts on the breeze, a light vibrato on held notes and breathy exhales on the low dips. He’s all smiles and winking at everyone watching, just as engaging a performer as a singer. His energy is infectious; you even join in on the verses, Will adding an overly high falsetto at times that makes you all laugh. He’s warmed up to you more over time, growing from the silent brother to your favorite person to confide in when the party gets rowdy. Silent smiles and rolled eyes are your language.

Santi waves his hands for a smattering of applause, yours the loudest. He dips his head in mock modesty.

“I’m glad someone here appreciates my musical talent,” he jokes, and you try your hardest not to break into the silliest grin. “You enjoy the guitar too, Ms Jackson?” You nod, eyeing the mahogany curves and the onyx neck of his well-loved looking instrument. Santi notices with a sly smile.

“You ever play?” he asks, and he’s walked right into your not-so-subtle trap.

‘Yeah, I’ve dabbled,” you say, earning a surprised look from Santi and, you assume, Frankie behind your shoulder. Santi holds the guitar out to you.

“Care to grace us with a little tune?” Before you can answer Benny whoops and shouts, “Yeah Ms J, show him how it’s done!” You shake your head but take the guitar, scooting up to rest it on your knees. It’s a little bigger than the one you’re used to playing, but you adjust your position around it. Taking a peek over at Frankie, his eyes shining in the firelight, you catch a surprised smile gracing his face.

It’s exciting to think you can still surprise him.

“What would you like me to play?” you ask Santi sweetly, testing a few chords.

“Whatever inspires you, I’m beyond intrigued now,” he says, turning his chair to face you more fully. “Fish, you never told me Ms Jackson can jam.” Frankie huffs out a laugh and you beat him to an answer.

“Hasn’t come up before, Santi,” you reply coolly, looking back at Frankie and giving him a smile. He’s looking especially rumpled and adorable, barefooted in khaki shorts and a red jean jacket half hiding a tattered Fleetwood Mac t-shirt that definitely has a hole in the armpit.

“Anyway, here’s Wonderwall,” you joke, strumming the first few notes to a chorus of groans. “Ok jeez, tough crowd.” Instead you begin thumping your foot against the ground, plucking at the strings with the nimbleness of practice. You hear Will’s, “Oh shit!” from across the fire as you get through the intro and stop for two beats, all the boy’s faces breaking out in smiles as you jump into the first lines of “The Chain.”

Frankie’s bellowing cheer tells you this was a good pick. Benny and Santi start clapping along with the beat, Santi’s clear voice pairing with your airier one and adding strength to the melody. He even harmonizes with you, making your hair stand on end at the major chords. The chorus has all of the boys joining in, Frankie’s growly baritone speak-singing the lyrics next to you. Benny and Will air-drum through the interlude, you plucking through the bass section. The music peters off as you strum through the ending.

“Holy shit Ms Jackson! You’ve been holding out on me!” Santi cheers, taking the guitar from you and slapping you on the back.

“Anytime, as long as the boys don’t get tired of listening to me,” you reply. Santi slings the guitar strap over his shoulder and saunters to the other side of the fire, playing the beginning of another song that has Will and Benny practically running from him. You get up to toss out your bottle but Frankie snags you on the way by, pulling you down into his lap with a squeak. Warmth surrounds you, big arms wrapping you into Frankie’s body as he beams into your face.

“You trying to get me riled up?” he growls playfully, to which you tap him on his strong nose and weave your fingers into the base of his curls.

“I know your weaknesses, Frankie Morales,” you tease, scritching at the place on his scalp that makes his eyes close. He hums and squeezes your hips with his large hands.

“You’re gonna have to teach me that sometime,” he says, pressing a kiss at the hinge of your jaw. You sigh, giggling when you hear Will threaten, “If you sing that stupid hippo song one more time I’m going to shove that torture device so far up your ass.”

A few days later, Frankie surprises you right back.

“I would actually like to learn,” he brings up out of the blue. He’s got your feet in his lap, tucked at the end of his couch as you lounge across it. His thumb makes circles in the pad of your foot, gentle but also…nervous?

“Learn what?” you ask, sitting up to see him better. His smile is a little sheepish.

“How to play guitar,” he says a little quieter. He’s keeping his eyes trained on your feet, which makes your nose crinkle. Does he think you’d laugh at him for that? When it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?

“Of course, Frankie. I can dig up my old one.” The smile that creeps onto Frankie’s face settles into your heart like so many of his other emotions.

“It’s okay? I don’t want it to be a hassle,” he concedes, but you’re shaking your head and scooting closer to him.

“I would love to teach you.” Frankie scoffs for a moment, lifting his cap to comb back his hair. You grab the brim and toss it over onto his coffee table, replacing it with your fingers instead. He melts below your touch, leaning back and looking at you with that strangely sheepish expression again.

“I, um…” he starts, pausing to look in your face before continuing, “I’m not always the most…patient learner. So if it gets to be too much you just…give me a slap or something.” You hum at this admission. Frankie could be impatient in some aspects, but most times it had been to your benefit.

“We’ll have to see how good of a teacher I am,” you settle on, and Frankie’s gentle eyes couldn’t be more adoring.

Frankie was not kidding. For someone who could be so patient and take so much time in some aspects of his life, learning a new skill frustrated him to no end.

You’d started small, showing him how to hold a few major chords on the long neck of your old guitar. His hands dwarfed the wooden column, jaw clenching when his thick fingers pressed down on too many strings, dulling the note. He frequently shook his hand out, complaining of cramping. It reminded you of when you tried to learn piano, your hands too small to reach a full octave across the keys and how frustrated you were when you undershot a note that was so easy for others.

These lessons, spread out over several months and no more than a couple times a week, showed you a side of Frankie you’d never seen before. Your sweet, thoughtful boyfriend became more focused, serious as he tried to memorize progressions. His teeth clenched, mouth turned downward when he struggled, no matter how much encouragement you plied him with. Low curses lingered under his breath, and on more than one occasion you asked him if he wanted to stop.

“No,” he grunted out, dropping the guitar on the couch beside him and leaning back, hands coming up to scrub at his face. “I’m just feeling…slow. I hate feeling slow.” You took his hand in yours, massaging your thumb along the delicate muscles. It took a long time for your hand to feel comfortable on the strings too. You’re not Frankie’s therapist (his name is Ben), but when he gets quiet and tense like this you encourage him to speak those simmering feelings just to let them into the air.

“Want to tell me about it?” you ask. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t.

“Maybe I’m just an old dog who can’t learn a new trick,” he grumbled, head tilted towards the ceiling. Actively trying to relax his jaw, you continued working the tight muscles in his hand.

“If it’s not fun, you don’t have to do it,” you replied. Frankie brought his face back to yours. “It’s not a job. You’re supposed to enjoy it.” That granted you one of your favorite Frankie faces, sweet eyes and a gentle smile with a tilt of his head. It always bloomed warmth in your chest.

“How did you not give up on it?” he asked. You contemplated that, pulling your lower lip between your teeth before breaking out into a grin.

“I’ve got an idea.”

The next time Frankie sits down to practice, the defeat already in his shoulders, you place a few pieces of paper down on your coffee table. They’re chord progressions written out in your hand, no musical notes or bars. Frankie’s forehead wrinkles as he looks at them.

“You have to guess,” you say, sitting in the armchair across from him. “You know the song, but you gotta figure it out. I’ll give you a hint when you’re getting close.”

Frankie’s face smooths, a smile coming to his lips. Your excitement is thrumming in your chest. This is what he needs, a puzzle to solve, a game to play that engages both his body and his mind. He was a pilot after all, you’re surprised you didn’t think of this sooner.

He studies the chord progression, full focus on the sheet and his fingering, as he gets through your written directions slowly but accurately.

“Okay, a little faster this time,” you say, and Frankie nods with a sharpness that looks like it would be followed by a, “yes ma’am.” That flash of obedience sparks something primal and deep in you, but you push it down for another day. He stumbles, puffing little annoyed breaths out when he makes a mistake, but soon he’s getting the hand placement right, moving through the eight bars with more fluidity. His grimace starts to morph into a smile, and you look at him expectantly.

“What song is it?” you press, waiting for him to work through the chords again before he beams up at you.

“Well I guess it would be nice…” he rasps out, more speaking than singing, but you point at him and nod, “If I could touch your body, ‘cause I know not everybody has got a body like you!” You clap at his rendition of “Faith” by George Michael, strumming becoming more confident as he recognizes the rhythm and melody of the song he was unwittingly playing.

This is what finally gets Frankie excited instead of the single-minded goal to “be good” at guitar. Every little lesson is a game now, ranging from practicing the songs he enjoys playing (Faith has become a favorite) to new ones you write out for him. From “Kokomo” to “I Wanna Know What Love Is,” he’s starting to really get into the groove. You pretend not to notice that he folds up all the scraps of paper into his pocket at the end of the lesson, or the little pile on his bureau that bears your messy handwriting. Instead you start adding a little heart to every sheet.

Your favorite session by far was one where Frankie got the chords quickly, but was puzzling through what song it was. After almost ten repetitions he shakes his head with a stumped expression.

“You finally got me babe, I’ve got no idea.” You try not to break out into laughter immediately, instead nodding to play it one more time. As the cue comes, you start making a loud exaggerated saxophone noise with your mouth, air-playing it as well. Frankie’s head shoots up in surprise, then the laughter bubbles up from a chuckle to raucous hyena shrieks, your own breaking through and making you gasp for air.

“You taught me Careless Whisper?!” Frankie tries to say between frantic sips of air, putting the guitar down and flopping back on the couch. His chest shakes violently with the force of his merriment, and you crumple onto the living room floor as you try to overcome your giggle fit. As you finally get control of your diaphragm, Frankie slides off the couch and hovers over you, a halo of curls that the light seeps through.

“I love you, you know that?” he says, placing a ticklish kiss in the crook of your neck. You release another delirious giggle, your head light from lack of oxygen, as Frankie crawls over and cages you in. Your hands come up to stroke along the tight muscles on his back, his curved nose bumping against yours.

“I love you too,” you reply, lifting your chin to give him a sweet kiss that is still punctuated by a few giggles. “Love you even more if you let me get off the dirty floor.”

“It’s vacuumed, you’re fine,” Frankie mumbles into your neck, the twin brushes of his lips on your skin making you dig your fingers into his back. “Let me love on you for a little bit,” he adds, chasing the paths his lips left.

“You can love on me all you want in a more comfortable spot,” you shoot back. Frankie’s head pops up, fake contemplation on his face, before he concedes and continues his gentle worship in the softer cushions of your couch.

It was a cooler Friday afternoon, sunlight welcome on your back as you moved through your house, when Frankie surprises you yet again. He arrives at your doorstep per usual, but with two bags of groceries on a Friday afternoon. You’d both gotten out of work early, you because of a holiday, him because he asked his boss if he could leave when he was done working on his last car. Now, with a mountain of supplies you recognize but don’t understand in this context, Frankie is giving you a shy look.

“I thought I’d make you pernil for dinner,” he says, and while you’ve never heard of the dish you immediately agree to Frankie’s bashful request. He was a decent cook, whipping up quick tasty dishes when you stayed at his apartment. Your cuisines didn’t overlap at first, but you’d come to love many of the South American flavors he cooked with, and he’d treated you to many whispered, “oh shits,” at the French and Mediterranean food you were partial too.

As he chops and stirs at your kitchen island, letting you help with the prep but nothing more, he tells you this slow-roasted pork shoulder is something his mother makes only at Christmas due to the length of time it has to cook and the penchant that the young boys in the family had of barely letting it reach the table. You can understand why; the smell coming from the oven is savory, spicy, warming you all over.

“So what did you do to get the great honor of your mother’s recipe? I’m still trying to convince mine to give me a few of hers.” Frankie smirks, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He’s preparing rice and pigeon peas for a side dish, and the way his arms flex as he mixes, a tiny patch of sweat at the center of his chest, makes you want to abandon this meal for other activities.

“Came back alive,” he says simply. The words drag you into the moment. You hum in acknowledgement, your finger tracing the edge of your wine glass, rubbing away the lip print on one edge.

At first, Frankie’s matter-of-fact attitude had been a little jarring, a refusal to candy-coat his experiences or the dark moments of his life. You’ve come to understand it better as his way of removing emotion from those memories. It still makes you want to hold him when he says things like that, but Frankie carries a reserve of strength beneath his frame and you respect him too much to baby him. Instead you spread out those desires into the little moments you share every day.

The shoulder needs to roast for several hours, so you retire to the living room and move to pull up something on Netflix. Maybe you can binge a few episodes of some new show as the sun starts to inch towards the horizon.

“Uh, there’s another thing,” he says, still standing in the entryway. You put your hands on your waist and cock an eyebrow at him.

“Full of surprises today, Frankie,” you tease, getting your favorite nervous tic of his. He smiles and lifts his hat, combing the hair away from his forehead before resettling it. You teased him about wearing hats in the house but he looks so damn sexy in them it’s always half-hearted.

“I’ll just…go get it,” he says, turning to leave before spinning back. “Sit in the armchair. And…don’t look just yet, it’s kind of a surprise.” Then he’s out your door and ambling to his truck. You close your eyes, trying to fight a smile and failing. Your home smells wonderful, spiced and clean with hints of Frankie caught in the couch cushions, in your clothes.

The door creaks open and you make a show of covering your eyes with your hands, grinning at Frankie’s soft chuckle. His boots thump by the door, socked feet padding over to your couch and sitting across from you. You hear a twang, familiar but not quite identifiable when you’re in darkness. Then the strum of a guitar. Your eyes fly open.

Frankie is sitting on the edge of your couch, a new guitar more suited for his frame resting on his lap. The wood is dark walnut along the curves, lightening to amber around the strings. His head is turned down, brim of the cap hiding his eyes and nose, but his lips, those wonderful lips, are still visible as he plucks out the first few notes and chords.

“If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself. Everything I have found dear I've not found by myself. Try and sometimes you'll succeed To make this man of me. All my stolen missing parts I've no need for anymore.”

You can barely move, afraid to break the spell of Frankie’s large hands wrapped around the neck of the guitar, fingers that frustrated him before now plucking nimbly, if not a little messily, at the strings. His voice is far-off thunder, half still in his chest like he’s afraid to be louder. Your hands are clasped in your lap, eyes shining at your beautiful boyfriend showing you how hard he’s worked to play this for you.

The lyrics keep flowing, the melody pausing sometimes when a particularly tricky part comes. He pushes through it, his head still downturned. It’s probably for the best because you can feel tears starting to dampen your lashes.

“I believe And I believe 'cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me.”

You’re crying to Pearl Jam being sung by the most gorgeous man you’ve ever had the chance to love and he’s rumbling the lyrics out so softly but each digs into your chest and makes a home there.

“All the promises at sundown I've meant them like the rest. All the demons used to come 'round, I'm grateful now they've left.”

You hear Frankie’s throat bob with a swallow, taking an extra measure to get to the last verse.

“So persistent in my ways. Hey angel, I am here to stay. No resistance, no alarms. Please, this is just too good to be gone.”

You know there’s a final verse lingering behind Frankie’s lips, but you stand and wrap your hand around the neck of the guitar, pulling it from his hands as he finally turns his head to look up at you. Your hands fly with frenetic energy, placing the guitar by the end of the couch, knocking Frankie’s cap off his head, and putting both hands on his face to capture him in a kiss. He lets out a surprised grunt that you swallow, pushing him back as you straddle his lap. You card your fingers through his soft curls, stroke your thumb along his scruffy jaw, and devour his mouth. Arms wrapping around you, he pulls you tight as he returns your heated kiss, dragging his tongue against yours, licking into all the little places that make you moan. His hands fist into the fabric of your shirt as he pants below you.

“Love you,” you gasp out, letting your lips part just enough to say it. “Love you so much, Frankie.” You feel a tear slip out, curving down to the corner of your mouth where Frankie kisses it away.

“You liked it?” he whispers, making you nod furiously, your noses bumping. “I’m still a little slow but…” You silence him with another kiss, settling your body tight against Frankie’s lap as he shifts his hips up to slot between your thighs.

“It was perfect,” you say, pulling back enough to look at Frankie’s dazed face. You let your fingers dance over his lips, soft and wet from your frenzied advance. He sees the trail of the tear down your cheek and wipes it away, cupping the side of your face with his warm palm. Tracing the edge of his beard, the dark crescents of his eyebrows, the proud line of his nose, you press back against his mouth with sweeter, slower movements this time.

Frankie indulges you in languid slips against his tongue, one hand splayed on your lower back, the other cupping the back of your head. Suddenly your head is spinning, your back coming down on the couch as Frankie flips you. He sits back on his knees, fingers making quick work of the button-up you hadn’t changed out of yet. Once he’s popped every button open and bared your chest to his hungry eyes he folds over you, dragging his lips against the hardened bud of your nipple. Your back arches at the soft sensation, giving Frankie just enough leverage to drag your sleeves and straps down your arms.

“Oh, babe,” he chokes out. Those fingers that frustrated him now deftly unclasp your bra, baring you to his wandering mouth. Frankie’s hot breath fanning across your sternum is a precursor to the tip of his tongue gently tracing around your nipple. Sparks ignite where his mouth closes around your breast, his hand cupping the neglected one and stroking the rough edge of his thumb over it again and again.

“Frankie, fuck,” you gasp out as he swirls his tongue around and over, dragging his teeth softly against the flesh to make you bury your fingers in his hair. When you start keening less he lets your nipple fall from his lips, replacing it with your plush mouth. His cock is hard and straining against you, your work skirt rucked up your thighs and panties damp with your arousal.

“Wanna give you my cock, baby, wanna make you cum,” Frankie garbles into your chest as he moves his devious lips to your other breast.

“Yeah Frankie, want to cum with your mouth full?” you tease back, the groan against your skin making you lift your hips against him. The groan becomes a growl as one of Frankie’s large hands snakes between you and thumbs at your clit.

“Please can I fuck you, baby?” he all but begs and your hands join his in unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He pulls your panties to the side and swipes his thumb through your messy sex.

“Want me to…” he starts to say, but your legs wrapping behind his thighs, pulling his weeping cock flush with you, cut off his next thought.

“Now, Frankie, need you now,” you moan, rocking your hips to drag him through your folds. Frankie curses and grips the base of his cock, guiding the thick tip into your cunt and rolling his hips to fill you achingly slow. When he bottoms out with a snap you shout hoarsely, his eyes flashing concern for a moment before you follow it with a debauched groan and a thrust back.

“Fuck, baby, yeah. Your pussy is so fucking good,” he squeezes out, one hand palming your ass and the other propping himself up on his elbow. You take a hold of his face again and guide him back to your breast, your breath hitching when he teases your nipple with the same talented strokes he puts to use between your legs.

“Frankie, honey, you’re gonna make me cum on your cock,” you murmur, sneaking a hand between you to rub dizzying circles on your clit. Neither of you have the patience or the brainpower to draw this out. You just want skin and pleasure and mouths and love love love.

It’s almost too much to bear when Frankie curls down into you, gathering you in his arms and scraping his teeth and lips behind your ear as he slams into you. The couch groans comically at the debauched pounding you’re experiencing.

“Love you, sweet girl, love you so much. Love everything about you. Fuck, love this tight pussy, you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard. I’m gonna…fuck, I didn’t…baby, where…?” Frankie’s pace is quick and deep now, barely pulling out before pressing hard inside your cunt, punching his hips up to angle his cock against your g-spot. He’s moaning long and loud and you love hearing him falling apart.

“Cum on my panties,” you purr, squeezing Frankie as his hips falter.

“Oh fuck, fuck, shit yes, baby-” he tries to say, pulling his cock out and stroking himself, quick wet passes aided by your slick coating him. He pulls your panties back over your cunt, your hand still working under the cotton. “Fuck. Fuck! Yes, fuck!” Frankie grits out as he cums hard, coating the fabric in his spend as he jolts against you over and over.

“That’s it baby, look at you, so fucking sexy,” you croon as you feel the fabric dampening over you. You’re almost at the peak yourself, Frankie’s fucked-out face and rapt attention pushing you there quickly.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so fucking hot. Let me make you cum,” he pleads, but it’s less of a request than a demand when he pulls your wrist out of your panties, yanks the fabric to the side and dives down to suck your clit into his mouth. His tongue is fast and merciless against you, and being so close to the edge it barely takes a moment for you to shatter on your boyfriend’s tongue, his own cum smearing against his cheek in his eagerness.

You lay half-naked on your couch for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath. Frankie slumps against the back of the couch, shirt rumpled up, cock softening in the V of his hastily undone jeans. A silvery smear of cum on his cheek glistens until Frankie lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe it away, treating you to a gorgeous view of his stomach.

Once you have enough wherewithal to pull your panties back over you, sliding your skirt down to cover them, you hold your hands out for Frankie. He smiles, that quick, amazed one that both lights up your chest and gives you a pang of heartache. One day you think he’ll realize he deserves all of the love you give him.

Frankie crawls down your body, snuggling down beside you and resting his head on your chest. One heavy arm drapes over your stomach, fingers lacing with yours. He slots his thigh between your legs, and with your free hand you stroke at his fluffy curls. Post-orgasmic bliss was dragging your eyelids closed, and you could feel Frankie’s breathing evening out against your collarbone.

“Thank you,” you murmur into the top of his head, pressing a kiss there. He sighs, and in it is all of the comfort and satisfaction he feels in your arms.

“For the sex or the song?” he slurs against your skin. You huff out a laugh that makes him smile into your skin.

“For being everything,” you answer. His fingers tightening in yours speak louder than anything he could possibly say.

The pernil is delicious, and needed with both of your ravenous appetites. You thank Frankie, loudly and enthusiastically, as he blushes at your unabashed happiness. Conversation turns where it often does - work, plans, what you want to do this weekend - but towards the end of the meal Frankie just reaches over and takes your hand. It’s nothing new, but the way he holds it so tenderly makes your whole body feel full to bursting. You meet eyes, share smiles, and in Frankie’s brown ones you see all those future days perfectly promised.

END

The story continues in Frankie Finds Your Fanfic

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

U dont have to respond to this if you feel its tmi or whatwver but ... I had an odd prophetic dream kind of moment recently , and its been makingme nervous. I had a dream that, Me, my father, and his girlfriend were being spied on/chased after by someone.. Something like that. It came completely out of the blue and i didnt think anything of it! then, that morning, i get a call from my father that hes in town , and that he has to tell me something urgently , and when we meet he tells me that .... For context, his girlfriend 's ex husband is a person with a lot of money and power. and tells me that He has been actively threatening them+has also been threatening my fathers daughter . And that I should be very careful because people like this are capable of everything. Just that night I was visiting the lost all hope website. Ive been in a very bad mental slum . This somehow really , idk, it felt real. It put my troubles aside , because what is happening is real and , there's something . Talking about my dream... I wish I could, and idk how to connect further with this side of myself. I wish i could somehow keep this spiritual feeling ? I really wish there was more things like this happwnign to me. and i know i need to seek them out. but idk how to do it. because im instead stuck in my own head... My father told me i should turn and talk to my spiritual teachers, and ask for them to guide me. I dont know how to go about it. I feel like I need something magical to happen. I really know very little about this stuff. On another note, and im rly sorry if this makes u nervous, ihad a dream tonight that something happened to pochita , and when I woke up i instantly went to ur blog to check on pochita .-.;; I know pochita will be ok though...

awh i am happy to answer this anon, i am happy u cld come to me about it. firstly i want to say i really hope you are ok, ill b praying for you and ur family anon. try to tell urself like a mantra, "no weapon formed against me shall prosper". try to create a feeling of safety in ur heart as u think/say it. envision your family being guarded by an angel army. people with money who use it for evil, they're the most doomed souls. they're living at the lowest frequency possible. you have power over them that u can utilize w your heartfelt prayers. now, as for the dreams: i believe that you may have experienced an ESP dream, picking up on the worries of ur father. its no coincidence, im telling you! from what u psychically were picking up, your dream may have provided a scenario thats priming u to handle this predicament. it shows great sensitivity to be able to not only facilitate an esp dream, but to recall it and apply it to real life. you're on your way anon 🤍 more things like this can happen the more u open urself up to them. however, you cant force it! the more u try to force it, the more it'll repel itself. its hard to explain but.. prayer and study will open up more avenues. listen to whats happening in the back of ur mind. for me, i actually have way more prophetic visions in waking life than in dreams. it took years to rly trust my intuition the way i do now, years of constantly having unusual hunches then being proven right. its a lifelong journey, look forward to it~ ur father is right, ask your guides or angels or whoever, ask them to show u the next step. the magic is all around u, its in the small things, try to notice them and dont ever write anything off as coincidence. thats my advice.. and as for your dream of pochita, i appreciate yr concern ;w; the thing w dream interpretation is, altho u get the occasional prophecy coming thru, most dreams are not meant to be taken too literally. i suspect it was a stress dream and since pochita's injury has been on people's minds lately, ur dream was using her to symbolize something in ur subconscious. she's doing just fine laying at my feet as i type this 🤍 thanku for caring her 🤍 u seem like a sweetheart and i pray for ur family's safety. dont give up hope anon. there are miracles in your future!!!!!!!!!

[a-very-tired-raven]

1. April 19th 🐏!!

2. Biggest Phobia would probably be melissophobia, which is a fear of wasps and bees. However my biggest fear is being forgotten.

3. Uhhh ive twisted an ankle and had a bad sprain, which is about the same as breaking one.

4. Everything lmao. My humor is very fluid, and i can adapt to others humor extremely well. This is what helps me make other people laugh :]

5. Yes, Men with long hair. Like, actual, long hair. Also i reaalllllly like nerdy and dorky guys. True dumbasses. Slap long hair on a dork and im smitten.

6. Yes, depending on the context. I was heartbroken when my dogs passed away, and i was also heartbroken when my mom at my icecream 💔

7. Question is way too hard lmao. But if i had to pick one id say Out of my mind by Cg5

8. Was born female, and I currently have no plans of transitioning

9. America🇺🇸!! Hope to travel someday.

10. Uhh very vague question hmm... fireworks?? Idk man, id have to think ab it for a long time

11. Yes, multiple actually. I have six dogs���(5 pitbulls and a mutt) a couple of goldfish and a bearded dragon. Working on getting rats sooner or later.

12. just rude and hateful people in general. Im just so tired of everyone going at everyones throats.

13. Finding out my step mom is getting engaged 🧡!!!

14. Mmm kinda of. As much as i love the night i get creeped out during later hours. So i suppose.

15. Yes, very much so 🎮!!

16. Lmao plenty. Slaped the shit out of a target mannequin thinkin it was nailed down. It wasnt. Almost made it fall lmao. Also tripped and nearly busted my ass in public.

17. A hospital!

18. Yes but i didn't always need them 😭!!

19. Foxes, Rats, and axolotls!!

20. Orange orchid's 🌺🧡

21. Raven! Hence the user lol

22. Swimming!!

23. Pasta of any kind!(spaghetti, alfredo, lasagna, etc etc)

24. Not that i know of! But i di have very sensitive skin, so I gitta be careful about what lotions, sunscreens, and earrings i wear. (This also means sand burns the everloving fuck outta me)

25. Someday, yes. But the pain makes me very very nervous. It scares me a little.

26. Football, baseball, and rugby!!

27. I believe Adhd is counted as a disability, correct me if im wrong, so yes.

28. Lol its pretty plain, first off its thick, that way even if i drop it on its screen it wont crack, and two its grey and black.

29. Math. And computers. Got a computer for the first time last year and theres so many things i dont understand

30. Violin music lmao. That shit hurts me so damn good. Electric instruments can have this effect but not nearly as strong as a violin.

31. I honestly dont think i KNOW about enough conspiracies to believe in any.

32. Nope!!

33. Fine with a lot of them (moths, lightin bugs, dragonflys, rollie pollies, etc) but i am terrified of bees man. Wasps and hornets i hate they can go fuck themselves, and so can cockroaches, waterbugs, earwigs, and fireants.

34. Pretty unlucky in terms of literal luck tbh. Im very clumsy, dont have really good odds with mystery things(pokemon cards, etc) but in terms of stuff to be thankful for i think im very lucky.

35. Halloween🕷🕸, April fools, and Christmas lol.

36. I like the ocean itself, but the sand here sticks to us all over, and it burns the fuck outta my sensitive skin. Maybe if i went somewhere where the sand didnt stick id like it more?

37. COOKIES, icecream, and snickers lmao big sweet tooth

38. Sundrop!(its a soda thats only distributed to specific states here) mango slushies are good too!

@let-love-run-red @ratsoh-writes @ and anyone else!

Ask Game

Send me an emoji and I’ll answer!

🥳: When is your birthday?

😱: What’s your biggest phobia?

🤕: Any major injuries?

😂: What makes you laugh?

🫦: Got a type?

💔: Have you ever been heatbroken?

🎵: What’s your favorite song?

🏳️‍🌈: Birth gender and chosen gender?

🏳️: Where are you from?

🤩: What amazes you every time?

🐶: Any pets?

😡: What makes you mad?

😳: What supposed you the most recently?

👻: Are you afraid of ghosts?

👾: Do you like video games?

🤡: Any embarrassing stories?

👩‍🍼: Where were you born?

👓: Do you need glasses or contacts?

🐤: What’s your favorite animal?

💐: What’s your favorite flower?

✨: What does your name mean?

☀️: Favorite summer activity?

🍎: Favorite food?

🥜: Are you allergic to anything?

🍼: Do have or want to have children?

⚽️: Favorite sport?

🦯: Do you have any disabilities?

📱: What does your phone case look like?

❓: What has always puzzled you?

😭: What always makes you cry?

👽: Do you believe in any conspiracies?

🦾: Do you have any artificial limbs?

🕸️: Opinion on bugs?

🍀: How lucky do you consider yourself?

🎄: Favorite holiday?

🌊: Do you like the ocean?

🍭: Favorite sweet?

🥤: Favorite drink?

[thelibraryoferebor]

10 AU Fics For Readers Who Want To Escape Just A Little Bit More Than Usual

For a fic to qualify for this list they have to take place entirely out of the canon Tolkien universe, meaning no fix it fics or change in canon fics. Tbh, most of these are modern aus… now, on with the fics.

The Ghost and Mr Baggins by perkynurples

|| teen - 76.7k - completed ||

They say that everything can be cured by saltwater - sweat, tears or the sea. Bilbo Baggins chooses the last option, taking his recently orphaned nephew and moving to the charming Oak Cottage, overlooking England’s grislier shores. The house charms him instantly, and though he knows nothing at all about the sea, or about making ends meet on his own so far from everything he’s known his whole life for that matter, he’s quite determined to stay, and see his nephew get better, odd sounds in the night be damned. He’s living in a modern world, after all, and the nonsense he’s been hearing about the house being haunted by its former owner, the mysterious Captain Durin, is just silly superstition… isn’t it?

Notes: This story tho... it doesn't delve particularly deep into romance, but the connection between Bilbo and Thorin is still wonderful. I love all the twists and turns and that it's set in the early 1900s gives it extra feels. I'm hoping and praying for a sequel everyday, like ugh... even though I know that the story isn't really built to have a sequel. Maybe like a prequel or something??? Idk, I just want more in this universe. Ghost!Thorin au. Definitely didn't cry at the ending...

The One With the Writers by Resacon1990

|| teen - 11k - completed ||

Bilbo is a fantasy and sci-fi author who likes a certain kind of genre of ghost stories, Thorin is a horror and suspense author who likes fantasy. Both use pseudonyms. Both go with their writer friends, Ori (also sci-fi and action) and Dwalin (surprisingly, romance). So when they meet each other, they don't realize it's their favorite author. Whether they like each other right away or not is up to the filler.

Gandalf is everyone's agent/editor.

Notes: Why is this so good. Like it's got classic tropes and stuff, but everywhere you look it's got something that'll definetly make you laugh. Just read it, you won't regret it. Writer au

The Tale of Two Canines by BrightStarling

|| not rated - 16.4k - completed ||

Thorin was smitten with Bilbo-- that Dwalin most definitely could tell.

But he didn't realize his own trouble until the Corgi's owner showed up with a shy smile.

Oh no, this is not going to be good at all.

Notes: Crack alert! While this story is complete crack it's also like lovely and well written and is very good for helping a depresso espresso bitch feel happy for half a sec. You're the depresso espresso bitch, so go feel happy. Do it for those of us (me) who've already read it a hundred times and are struggling to get any more serotonin out of it. Dwori and thilbo. Dog au???

You Want A What!? by airbellah

|| general - 2.7k - completed ||

When the stranger repeated the offensive word for the umpteenth time, with an added innuendo, Bilbo had had enough. Punching the man in the face may not have been the best solution, but Bilbo would later insist it was not his fault.

Or, a language barrier culminates in Bilbo thinking Thorin is making homophobic slurs, and Bilbo ends up assaulting the innocent foreigner.

Notes: Obviously trigger warning for the f-slur being used often. It's always in a nonoffensive way, but just in case. Personally I think this fic is hilarious and wonderful and it's just *chef's kiss* so well written. Thilbo pre-slash. Modern au!

Learning To Dance Again by LittleLynn

|| explicit - 11k - completed ||

The Greenwood Academy of Dance was run by the elusive Thranduil Oropherion.

Bard learnt quite a lot about the mysterious Thranduil Oropherion from the gossiping mothers with children at the school.

And the most interesting thing he learnt was that no one actually knew much of anything about him.

Thranduil, a legendary dancer, had opened up the Greenwood Academy of Dance, and people had flocked to it. He used to hold lessons personally, running master classes and beginners classes alike. But five years ago there had been a fire at the academy – a bad one, Bard remembered hearing about it. By some miracle there had been no fatalities and the school had been quickly rebuilt.

But no one had seen so much as a glimpse of Thranduil since.

Notes: This fic hurts so good. Like Sigrid and Legolas, just ugh, it's so good. I don't have a whole lot more to say, just go fucking read it and love it. Barduil. Modern au!

Winter Wish by Jezunya

|| general - 1.4k - completed ||

Frodo climbs up onto the stepstool, Bilbo’s hand on his back to steady him, and grasps the edge of the table in his little hands, carefully following the two DJs’ instructions of not too close and speak slowly and clearly and you’re doing great, kid, and then, when they nod and tell him to start, he says, right into the microphone:

“My Winter Wish is for my uncle to get a boyfriend.”

Notes: Lmaooooo, this fic is fucking hilarious. Just go read it. It's really short, but so much fun. I swear you won't regret it. Pre-slash Thilbo featuring helpful Kili, Fili, and Frodo. Modern au!

Un Unexpected Date by airbellah

|| general - 2.4k - completed ||

“Bad date?”

With a sardonic snort, Thorin snatched up the glass and took a few more gulps, smiling thankfully as Bilbo refilled it right away.

“Never agree to a blind date,” he advised.

Bilbo grimaced. “I don’t know what I would do, if it ever came to that.”

“I only wish I knew how to get out of this date sooner,” Thorin bemoaned.

“Family emergency?” Bilbo offered. “I’ve seen plenty of those.”

Nagged by his family members for too long, Thorin agrees to a blind date. Unsurprisingly, it goes terribly. But it seems not all hope is lost - in fact, the waiter catches Thorin's eye.

Notes: Featuring Thranduil... bet you can guess what role he plays. Pre-slash thilbo but it's still wonderful and ugh I need a sequel. Come one man! Can't just leave us hanging like that. Modern au!

Breaking Gundabad by The Feels Whale (miscellaneous)

|| teen - 3.3k - completed ||

Thorin is basically Batman.

Bilbo is basically done with this.

Notes: Why is this fic good. But it is and you must read it, that's why it's on this list. Superhero au. Wonderful thilbo. And I adore it. So be gone and read the fic... not just yet tho, I've got a couple more to throw at you. Sort of also a modern au... but really just a superhero au.

With Compliments by manic_intent

|| explicit - 4k - completed ||

“Would you stop staring,” Bilbo hissed, for the fifth time since service had started. “He’s not about to grow horns.”

Bofur looked guiltily away from the door, and scuttled back over to the tail end of appetiser prep. “Just checkin’ if he liked the amuse-bouche.”

“Well,” Bilbo scowled, “We have an entire restaurant to feed, not just Mister Durin, and Lobelia’s in a fine mood tonight, so if I don’t keep you at prep, she’ll light your tail with the blowtorch, I don’t wonder.”

Notes: Lmao, Thorin in this fic tho. He plays the role of haughty food critic way too well. And I hate Lobelia's guts just the right amount in this fic. Wonderfully written thilbo, modern au. Just go read it, I promise you have nothing better to do.

What We Once Had by Chamelaucium

|| not rated - 23.1k - completed ||

Thorin and Bilbo have been divorced for thirteen years, separated for fifteen and they can hardly have a civil conversation with each other without dissolving into an argument. But they manage.

Now their son Frodo is getting married, which would be fine if not for the fact that Thorin's sick father believes they've been happily married these last fifteen years, and now they have to get through these two weeks of celebrations without letting on that they're in fact divorced and living at opposite ends of the country.

But they'll get through it, eventually. Though how many tears and broken hearts and arguments there'll in the meantime, Mahal only knows.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll be closer at the end of it.

Notes: This fic is a classic. If you've been reading thilbo for a while I'd be surprised if you haven't already read this one, but in case you haven't you should be aware that this is probably my favorite modern au. It features Sam/Frodo and is just perfect in all the ways. I adore it so much and think it's more deserving of love and adoration then I am. Just read it.

If you want more au fics than this I’d recommend scrolling through the library’s page since most of the lists have Aus on them. There won’t be any repeats… I think. Sorry this list took so long to get out, life has been rushed. I'd really like to start getting helping you guys find fics, create lists that you guys want to see, and overall interact with you guys more. Let me know what you're interested in!

~H

[matan4il]

So... am I the only one who feels like somehow simultaneously everything and nothing has happened this season? I know we got some BIG moments like The Breakup and Maddie leaving, but overall it feels like any individual or interpersonal relationship development (not just buddie) is happening slower than molasses. Like Hen, when was the last time they even acknowledged her med school storyline before last night? And specific to buddie, I would imagine the tiny steps they’re making this season are still likely imperceptible to the casual viewer when I had hoped/expected things would be at least a little bit more overt at this point. Lately I feel like so many important conversations or moments happen behind the scenes, and then we’re told about it instead of witnessing it ourselves OR they’re just never spoken about. Am I making sense??? I mean, it’s ultimately my fault that the reality of the episodes this season don’t meet my expectations because I get my hopes up too high with the teasers and speculation that comes from them. But the pacing is driving me nuts 😅 so I’m here because you always give me hope!!!! Do you think they’ll give us anything more overt before the winter hiatus? They’ll have to do something big to tide us over for 5 months, right? Especially since I noticed (on Wikipedia lol) that they‘ve had a decrease in US viewership this season. What do you think?

Hi Nonnie! Awwww, I'm so happy I manage to give you hope! *big hugs* I hope I can help this time, too.

I totally get what you're saying. I think at least a part of it is the fact that this is an ensemble show and the attempt to keep so many balls in the air, it results in part in the fact that this show has always something told its story by omission (such as moments when we gather Buck and Eddie fill each other in on stuff that happens to them, but we don't see it, or in 201, Eddie getting personal info about Buck, but only referred to, not shown on screen). That's why Hen's medical storyline wasn't addressed until 506, and we could only assume it's still happening in the background...

It's true that to the casual viewer, Buddie is still completely understated, but then I'm also sure that to the casual viewer, the break up between Eddie and Ana came out of left field. The show never spelled that there was actual trouble between the two of them, so viewers had to be very perceptive and/or very tuned into Eddie specifically (which most casual viewers wouldn't be) to gather that there was something off even before Carla had her say in ep 413. I actually think it's interesting that the show is more overt in telling us there's something off with Buck and Taylor than it was about showing that Eddie and Ana aren't working out, like... the signs are more explicit, you know? I do think we're headed for a B/T break up, just like during all of s4 I thought we were headed for a break up with E/A.

But will that cross over to showing us something more overt with Buck and Eddie that even a casual viewer would get? I find that hard to answer. I feel like a lot of things point towards YES, the storytelling most of all, but also the stuff you mentioned. 'Coz yeah, the logical moment to finally make Buddie happen is exactly when the ratings start dropping, but would they have realized the show wouldn't do as well when they were planning the Buddie story arc? IDK. After all, s4 has done poorer than s3 in ratings, but it did better in viewership ranks. I feel like everything since the shooting arc at the end of s4 is building towards something, IDK if it'll come to its natural fruition in 5A, but more than ever before, I feel like the odds are good and that the signs are all there... I've never been pessimistic, but I always tried to be very cautious and I am more optimistic than ever, so... I take that gut feelings as a positive sign, too. ;)

I really hope that helps, lovely! Have a great day! xoxox

(also, while I'm here, I hope the kind Nonnie who sent the ask about refreshing my blog saw the meta post! Please let me know?)

To anyone else who sent me an ask, I am going through all of them, thank you so much for your patience! If you wanna check whether I've replied to yours yet, you can have a look at my ask tag. xoxox

[whump-a-la-mode]

🍳 - Breakfast in bed

Idk all you characters are great.

It took me a while to decide on a scenario for this-- there’s so many good ones for a prompt as cute as this one! I eventually decided on Villainsicle, kind of a spiritual successor to the Nurse Me prompt. Some prologue caretaking for our good good boy.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry I haven’t been posting much these last few days, I have been stuck doing So Much Overtime. But my inbox is full of comfort prompts, so hopefully I’ll have some more cute stuff written soon!

For this ask game. 

CW//Past pet whump, dehumanization, low self esteem, speech difficulties

Villain didn’t understand beds.

For the Henchmen, that hadn’t been an immediate realization. Not quite as immediate as their confusion over plates and silverware and cups. When the drenched stranger had shown up, bedroom arrangements had been the last thing they’d thought about. They were far too busy frantically drying off their new ward and trying to get food down their throat.

After they were dry and had stopped their frenetic shaking on that first day, Henchman had laid them upon their own bed-- and they had been far too exhausted to refuse. Hell, they had been asleep before they hit the mattress.

Once Villain had recovered to the point of no longer needing constant attention, Henchmen had set up a spare room to accommodate them. With the difficulty involved in procuring a bed on such short notice, they had instead acquired a simple sleeping pad for their dependent. Villain had never seemed to use it, but that hadn’t proved to be too strange.

When they decided to continue sleeping on the floor instead of on their newly-arrived bed, however, that is when the two Henchmen took notice.

“They have to have used a bed before, right?” Henchman2 absentmindedly tore a napkin between their fingers, creating a small pile of the ripped paper. “They’re our age. There’s no way they haven’t.”

“Well, they’d never seen a cup before, either, to be fair.” Henchman nodded. “It does seem weird, though. They’re pretty clearly from Organization, like us. And our dorms had beds.”

“Shitty beds.”

“Yes, shitty beds. But still beds.”

Henchman2 nodded, arranging their pile of napkin scraps for a moment, before speaking:

“We should probably do something about it, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“If our goal is to, y’know, help them act like a person, sleeping in a bed is part of that, right?”

“I guess so. I didn’t even think about it.”

“Have you tried, like, talking to Villain about it?”

“Not really. I helped them into the bed once, and when I came back they were back on the floor.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah... But, what can we really do about it?”

“If you want to help them act like a person, you’re going to have to talk to them like a person.”

“I don’t want to scare them.”

“You’re going to make food about it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna make food about it.”

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The sun looked different when it wasn’t shining over the water.

On the water, the bright rays never allowed themselves to be ignored. They did not simply provide light, but bright glimmering spots on the black ocean surface, rippling on splashing drops, glistening on the ship’s wake.

On land... Sun was a source of light. Subtler. Not making itself known-- only being visible in the few dew drops where scattered liquid made its way onto dry ground.

Villain still hadn’t gotten used to that. Nor had they truly gotten used to the ground itself-- the world beneath was meant to be a fluid thing, shifting and rolling with the tides. The stillness felt as odd to them as the sea once had.

In a way, they missed the sea. The glare of the dawning sun threatened to make them flinch away, but they resisted, standing in front of the window, staring out over the rolling hills outside.

Were they near the sea? They searched the horizon, but saw not its whistling white waves.

The nice people-- Henchman and Henchman2, they had names, Villain reminded themself-- kept offering them activities. Books, board games. Things that perhaps they should have been interested in. Some of them were scattered across the room’s floor, even now.

But, they couldn’t bring themself to pay mind to those things. They were far more interested in simply looking out the window. Looking for the sea. They had yet to find it, but they could not help but feel that, if they looked for long enough, they would eventually spot it.

Soon. It was getting light, now. They’d tried staring out the window all night long, but had seen not the slightest glimpse of water-reflected moonlight.

Their legs shook, and their eyelids were terribly heavy. But they wanted so desperately to find the sea.

“Villain?”

They perked up, though stayed in their position, not so much as averting their gaze. It sounded to be Henchman-- the more cautious of the nice people. The softer one. Perhaps they wanted to play another game, though Villain knew they would be far too confused by the rules and the little pieces to get anywhere.

“Villain, is it alright if I come in?”

“Come in yes okay.” They nodded. Words still felt so thick on their tongue, but they made the nice people so happy. It was more than worth it, to see the way they smiled when Villain stuttered out a few sounds.

The doorknob turned, door creaking on its hinges as Henchman walked in, backwards, hands seemingly occupied by something. Villain turned, looking back to the nice person.

“Oh-” Henchman looked up. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“S’rry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. But... you look tired. Did you sleep at all?”

Henchman frowned. Villain could not help but do the same-- they had messed up. They had made the nice person sad.

“No.”

“Were you looking out the window?”

“Mhm.”

“Well... I brought something for you. And I thought maybe we could talk.”

“’kay.”

Villain looked to the item in Henchman’s hands as they sat on the bed. It had been shoved into the room a few days ago, even though they didn’t entirely understand why. There was no one here to use it.

Henchman patted the space beside them on the bed-- one of the new command signals for ‘Assido.’ Villain obeyed, sitting down beside the nice person.

“Want to talk about what?”

In response, Henchman picked up the platter they held, handing it to them. It was a plate-- they’d remembered that word yesterday. The food on it was familiar-- and it was food, if Henchman brought it, it was always food-- though the words escaped their mind’s grasp like eels. Something like bread, but with square holes, took up most of the platter, with something yellow and speckled with salt curled about the sides.

“About your bed.”

Villain blinked.

“This?” They pointed to the piece of furniture on which they sat.

“Yes.” Henchman’s brows raised in surprise. “You know about beds?”

“Yes?” It was a silly question to ask.

“Me and Henchman2 have been worried. You haven’t been sleeping on the bed. You’ve been sleeping on the floor. You can do what you want, of course, but... you don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

More confused blinking.

“No one here for sleep in bed.”

“You’re here. It’s your bed.”

What? Villain was certain they had heard right, but the words confused them nonetheless. They still struggled to make words with their own mouth, but other people’s words were easier. Fuzzy sometimes, but simple.

“I do not sleep on bed.”

“Oh. Do you not like it?”

Villain felt completely lost. They must have misheard something at some point.

“Beds for people.”

“Beds are for people?” Right. Verb. Need a verb.

They nodded. “Beds are for people.”

Henchman frowned, though the way their brow furrowed showed an emotion other than disappointment. It almost appeared as... fury.

“Villain, you are a person.”

“Asset.” They corrected.

“No.” Henchman laid a hand on their shoulder, making them shiver. “Villain, you are a person just as much as I am. Just as much as anyone else.”

“Why?”

“B-Because... Because you are? Because you’re a human being. And people sleep on beds. This is your bed, if you want it. Do you want it?”

Even just sitting on it made them comfortable enough that they felt, at any moment, about to fall into unconsciousness. The floor was fine, but...

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Henchman smiled. “How about, you have some breakfast in bed, and then get some sleep, okay?”

“Thank.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

For a reason beyond Villain’s comprehension, Henchman leaned forward, wrapping their arms around their body and squeezing.

What was that called again? A... A...

A hug.

[bass-is-mentally-ill]

Always wanted to make this and thought it would be funny soooo HYPERFIXIATION TIMELINE BITCHES (except only franchises)

June, 2020: FANBOY AND CHUM CHUM

ah yes, when shit really started kicking in. I think this was the first one, or atleast the first major one. This is funny, also my longest. I bought a kyle hoodie and had a picture of him on my ceiling, so i cpuld gaze at him every night before i slept. cute!

Febuary, 2021: TOTAL DRAMA

So i was like also maybe hf at the begining of june, but idfk. So this one started with simping for Mal, then shipping NoCo again, then... tradgity struck. The Ezekiel ark. I bought a body pillow.

march?, 2021: HAPPY TREE FRIENDS

One of fond of!!! So this is one that i can kind of stay in the fandom without going balls deep in every time, so thats cool. Anyways, Toothy x Cuddles is real because they told me so.

April, 2021: HORRID HENRY

Ok so like this period I was going through some shit, so I dont actully remeber anything about this except it got me 1k followrs on tiktok, so idk.

May-July, 2021: SOUTH PARK

I dont want to talk about this shit show. It was bad. Like REALLY bad.

August 2021: Also Happy Tree friends

same as last time lmfao

September-october 2021: My little pony

If you have adhd or anything you know october is awful for hyperfixiation. Like, you should not have rights during that. Also, october 2020 I was kyle from fanboy and chum chum. This year... I was sprout from my little pony. It was an odd time.

November 2021: F IS FOR FAMILY!!!!

ONE I CAN ACTULLY STICK IN THE FANDOM??? WOOOO!!!! Still my comfort show, love its ass. Stan bridget for clear skin yall.

December-march???? Uhhh Lioden, Camp lake bottom, happy tree friends, metal family, other stuff?

I dont remeber these months at all sorry

April 2022: Dude, thats my ghost!

Towards the end of the month, but funni show! I still love it! and i would still absolutkey rail billy-

May: My little pony, SOMETHING ELSE THAT HAS TOTALLY ESCAPED MY MIND HELLO?

Mlp was fun, lyrabon supremacy. But it also like completly decinigrated like a second ago so idk.

Now/June: THE BREADWINENR <33333

LOVE THIS MOVIE, LOVE THE BOOKS PURE HAPPINESS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!