#just in case you haven’t cried enough the last few days

[youwannadance]

spoiler: they never got to be consuegros

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

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Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

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As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 

“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.

You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 

Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 

“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 

Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 

You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 

Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 

“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 

“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 

“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 

“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 

“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.

“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 

More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 

Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.

You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 

“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 

Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”

“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 

“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”

“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 

You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 

“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 

Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 

“Come with you?” 

“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 

You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.

“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 

“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”

Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 

“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 

“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 

Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 

You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 

You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 

“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 

Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 

Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 

“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 

You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 

“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 

You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 

It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 

“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 

“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 

The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 

Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 

“...gramps, come on.” 

Uh-oh.

You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 

Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 

You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 

While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 

Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 

With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 

Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”

He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.

Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 

…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 

“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 

“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”

Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 

The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 

It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 

You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 

Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.

It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.

“...who are you?”

You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 

“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 

He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.

Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…

You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 

Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 

Yeah.

You must have just been imagining things. 

“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 

Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 

The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 

“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 

He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 

Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.

There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 

…or is it?

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[anzynai]

Day 5 - Boo!

Xingqiu & Chongyun (Genshin)

a/n: hiiii i missed writing them thank u sm for the prompt pookie…. I LOVE XINGYUN SO MUCH ABGAJAJAJAJAJAH theyre technically NOT dating here but i think its a little implied teehee but they are still technically friends unforch …. anyway i hope u enjoy!!! @tklpilled

——

oh, look at him, so blissfully unaware, xingqiu thought, watching the other eat his popsicle, content on his face as he walked closer and closer to the corner of the hallway.

he had invited chongyun over today. he had dramatically exclaimed that he would be oh, so bored because his father and brother would be speaking to business partners almost all day, but had to stay in case they needed him. it was the truth, but xingqiu didn’t really invite chongyun over for just that. he really just wanted to spend more time with him.

it had been an impulsive idea to scare chongyun like this. chongyun would never see it coming, which made it so fun, and even now, he could imagine the shock and betrayal on chongyun’s face.

xingqiu almost felt bad. almost. but alas, it was not enough to deter him from his goal. as chongyun was about the turn the corner to go into xingqiu’s room…

“boo!” xingqiu jumped out, grabbing the other’s sides in the process and squeezing.

“w-WAHAHA, x-xihihingqiu?!” chongyun jumped, startled and completely caught off guard. xingqiu inwardly applauded his stealth skills.

“chongyun, you’re here! it’s been so long!” xingqiu joked, still kneading his fingers along chongyun’s sides and tummy.

“ihihit’s beheheehen two dahahays!”

“two too long, don’t you agree?” xingqiu tsked.

“stahahap ihihit! ihihim tihihicklish!” chongyun cried, his face turning a bit red already. how cute, xingqiu thought a little mesmerized, not for the first time and not for the last.

“oh yes, we have established that, haven’t we?” xingqiu tried to deadpan, but he was far too amused to keep a straight face. chongyun was really so silly.

“gahahahaha!” chongyun pushed away at xingqiu’s hands as he backed into the wall, partly reflex from the ticklish sensations. unfortunately for him, that left him trapped and much more vulnerable to xingqiu’s devilish fingers.

“you’re so ticklish, chongyun,” xingqiu giggles along with the exorcist, who flushes in response.

a few seconds later, chongyun is looking a bit too red that, even though he really doesn’t want to, xingqiu relinquishes his attack, not wanting the other to overheat.

“you’re evil.” chongyun pouted, crossing his arms when he calmed down.

“how could you say that? i am not!” xingqiu denied, passionately holding a hand over his chest.

“yeah, right.” chongyun rolled his eyes, but xingqiu could see him trying to resist a smile. xingqiu felt like smiling too, but he didn’t resist it.

“come now, let’s go to my room. i have some new leads i think you might be interested in!” xingqiu said, smiling happily.

chongyun did smile that time. “okay, but they better be real ones.”

“of course, don’t worry!” xingqiu had assured him, as they walked to xingqiu’s room.

[fairy-writes]

Hello! It’s my first time here and I just checked out the rules but let me know if messed up. Can I get jouno and Tecchou (if you write for him) with a Reader who acts like Makima? Minus the way she is with Denji since he’s a minor.

I hope this makes sense but I might be requesting more csm characters (Fixating on chainsaw man and Tecchou + Jouno at the same time )

CONTROL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Saigiku Jouno x Reader

Suehiro Tecchou x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Reader is shorter than both Jouno and Tecchou, Mentions of blood and gore

Notes: Since there are multiple characters, I’m doing HCs :)

I also haven’t read Chainsaw Man since the first arc ended, so I’m bound to get some stuff wrong. I’m using her Wiki page as a crutch, lol.

Also also, I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret your request, so I just gave Reader Makima’s powers :) (I tried giving the reader her personality, but I liked the personality the reader got instead, so it’s what I’m rolling with)

__________________________________________________________________________

Saigiku Jouno

You were a fascinating case to Jouno. 

You were the newest member of the Hunting Dogs, having been recruited by Captain Fukuchi after being a member of a black market organization not unlike the Port Mafia. 

Just… with less influence and money.

You were the resident interrogator of said organization, so it was no surprise that your expertise transitioned to the Hunting Dogs. 

It was also no surprise that, seeing as you were so good at your job, that you got along well with Jouno. 

So well, in fact, it was almost scary, according to the rest of the Hunting Dogs. 

Your Ability was also fascinating to him. To be able to control someone like that… He feared the day that it might be used on him. 

“Are you done yet?” Jouno knocks on the interrogation room door and peeks his head inside. He can hear the sounds of your victim gasping for air. 

“Almost. Just a few more moments, and I’ll have everything I need.” Comes your voice, and he huffs, 

“It’s taking you forever.” He says conversationally and hears the person you were “talking to” whimper as you shift in place. 

The sound of cracking bones fills the air, and the person cries out in agony. 

“Oh hush, I’m doing exactly what I’m told.” You shoot back, and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re just having fun, aren’t you?” At that, you laugh. 

“Oh, but of course!” He hangs his head and chuckles but leaves you to your work. He takes his post outside the door and just listens. 

Sounds of begging and crying get on his nerves, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’re getting what you want. Even if no one else can understand what’s being said, you can. And that’s all that matters. 

Soon enough, you step out of the interrogation room. Jouno can hear the rustling of fabric and the squishing of liquid as you wipe fluids off your hands. The scent of iron is strong, and he knows that you must’ve used your ability to extract any information you needed for your reports. 

“All done?” He asks and hears you whip out your phone. 

“Sure am. That’s the last one for today, too.” You say, and the typing noise coming from your phone lets him know that you’re likely texting Fukuchi to get the mess cleaned up. 

You were always very messy. 

Your shorter legs skip to keep up with his, and he slows his stride so you aren’t running just to keep up with him. Jouno can hear the passing of several cleanup workers and figures by the path you’re taking that you’re on your way to your room. 

He barely waits a moment before kicking off his boots as per your request, shutting the door behind him, and following you with socked feet into the ensuite bathroom. He can hear your clothes drop to the floor, but embarrassment was a thing of the past between you two.

The shower turns on, and you barely wait a moment before stepping under the stream of water. Meanwhile, Jouno picks up your bloodied uniform and steps out of the bathroom to find you new clothes. Your dorm room at the Hunting Dogs Headquarters is as familiar as his own. Everything is perfectly in place. Your clothes are color-coded from dark to light, your bed is neatly made, and it all smells of the mint room spray you use. 

Everything in your dorm is perfectly controlled. Hell, Jouno might even be part of that. But he can’t bring himself to care all that much. 

Suehiro Tecchou

This is a similar backstory to Jouno’s HCs :) 

You were formerly part of a criminal organization that is now a part of the Hunting Dogs. 

But the difference in this is that you are watched by Tecchou instead of Jouno (duh, Fairy, get to the writing already!)

That being the main change, how you go about your interrogation is incredibly different. 

Tecchou teaches you to be gentle with your victims. 

Well… As gentle as your ability can be. 

You went for more mental manipulation rather than physical this time. 

You’re already waiting for Tecchou by the time he arrives to escort you to your office to finish your reports. The door to the interrogation room is shut, but he can hear the sounds of someone crying inside. As iron-willed as he is, it still makes his heart ache. 

At least you didn’t break them physically. That’s what Jouno would’ve done and he had always hated his fellow Hunting Dog’s cruel tactics.

“Did you get everything you needed?” He asked, and you hummed, nodding absentmindedly.

“Of course I did.” You say simply and he jerks his head for you to follow him. You do so without complaint. Teruko passes you two with a wave as she goes to escort the victim to the vans where he’ll be transported to prison until his trial. 

You report to Captain Fukuchi while Tecchou waits outside the door. Soon enough, you are dismissed and hold Tecchou’s hand as you head back to your shared dorm. The scent of juniper fills his nose, and he finds himself relaxing in your presence. 

You always did have this effect on him. Whether it was your Ability or not was unknown, but he didn’t care to find out. If you controlled him, you controlled him. He didn’t mind. 

[dayz-ina-daze]

So… this is. A bit of an emotional post for me to make, and I’ve rewritten it a few times and cried over it far more, just because I’ve been feeling very lost and hopeless recently, and I just… really want some advice. Some suggestions. … Some comfort, even.

I turn 20 in April. I spent my last “milestone” birthday, the 18th, half-convinced that I was dying because I had undiagnosed POTS, narcolepsy, and intense chronic pain that genuinely made me feel like I was on death’s door… so, uh, I didn’t really do anything special for that birthday. Or my 19th, as I was also in very poor health… though I’ve now come to the understanding, two years later, that this “poor health” is just. Not ever going to get better.

I haven’t done something ���big” for a birthday since I was a lot younger. And with the way things are shaping up for me, this might be the last birthday I’m able to share with my family before I’m inevitably kicked out because I just can’t keep up with college and the deal was I either stay in school or work to stay at home, and I can’t get a physical job for reasons that’ll become clearer later on.

So… This all to say, I’d like to do something “big” for this birthday. But… I have some pretty heavy restrictions. I don’t have a wheelchair (The cheapest one I have my eye on is about $300 out of pocket, and I just. Don’t have that money. Ive been trying to save up for that, though, as it would help me get an actual job + let me get out of my house more with significantly less worry… I’ve been begging my doctors to help me get it covered by insurance, but they claim that it’ll just make me regress, which is… a whole other issue) and can only walk maybe 5-10 minutes with a cane before I need to rest. If I push myself, I’ll be bedbound with blinding pain for the next day or so, or I’ll just straight up pass out — or, usually, both. The weather is turning warmer, and I have a severe case of heat intolerance, so I can’t be outside for long.

I’m not a fan of museums or aquariums or the like… Im not smart enough for escape rooms… Bowling is out. Most arcades are out. I don’t live in a very accessible town… I don’t really want to go and see a movie; that just doesn’t feel like “enough” of a thing to go and do… So, my point here is: Does anyone have any suggestions for what I could possibly go out and do? Just random local town suggestions… I like writing and reading and art and animals haha, if that helps spark anything…

Sorry if this is just… dumb. I probably won’t get a lot of answers anyway, I’m just… I want to do something. And I’d just like some suggestions… maybe some reassurance that it’ll get better someday, and I’ll be able to have a normal birthday again… I dunno’.

Thank you for reading :) and thank you for any suggestions

[aparticularbandit]

Donuts and Lavender Tea

Summary: Mukuro works at a small town coffee shop and bakery and spends her free time playing COD competitions online. She's intrigued by one of her COD squad members, but she doesn't think she can just slide into her DMs. (She also desperately wants to flirt with one of her customers, but she doesn't want to make things awkward.)

What's a poor girl to do?

For DR WLWeek 2024: Prompt Three: Talentless.

Rating: T.

AO3

“Cover me, cover me!”

“I’m down!  I’m down!”

Mukuro hides along the outside of the broken down house, clutching her gun to her chest.  She breathes easy – the adrenaline will come later, after they’ve won (or lost).  Right now, though, she’s relaxed, even as her comms fill with the cries of her squad falling one by one.

They haven’t gotten Ghost yet, though.  They haven’t gotten Ghost, and they haven’t gotten her.

Everyone else is just to distract them.

Ghost never communicates when they’re in the thick of things.  Mukuro rarely does either – only when things are getting drastic, only when she can feel herself going down.  Then Ghost needs to know.

(Even alone, Ghost wins.  Ghost always wins.)

Eventually, while Mukuro waits, their squad count drops.

Then there’s only the two of them left.

Mukuro smiles.

~

The Clean-Up Crew wins the match.

Of course.

They always win.

(But they put on a good show while they do.)

~

After the match, Mukuro pulls up the Ghost’s DMs.  They’re empty; she’s never worked up the ability to send an actual message.  No good games, no good jobs, no see you next times, no nothing.  Her fingers hover over the keyboard.

Eventually, she closes out of it again, just the same way she always does.

Next time.

She’ll be more prepared next time.

Besides, she needs to sleep.  She has to get up early for work in the morning.

~

~

Everything’s Coming Up Roses – a small, local coffee shop and bakery in the midst of Sunset’s old town downtown, only a few blocks from the local university (Hope’s Peak), home of the best coffee in the entire small town, and Mukuro’s job.  It doesn’t pay much – not even enough to pay the bills – but it comes with a lot of free coffee and a handful of free donuts every now and again.  Most importantly, Mukuro likes the job.  The pay offsets the prize money she gets from the Clean-Up Crew, so it’s all about the enjoyment anyway.

And there’s one more thing.

Kirumi Tojo, a professor at the local university, the first customer there every morning after Mukuro takes her shift, who always offers her a small smile when she orders.

It’s the best part of Mukuro’s day.

They never say anything much – just small talk.  Mukuro asks about Kirumi’s day, Kirumi says she can’t give information on her students (but often mentions something in passing anyway and gives that amused little smile), and that’s it.  Kirumi wishes her a good day.  It lasts all of five minutes – ten, at most – but it’s enough.  Every now and again, Kirumi returns at the end of Mukuro’s shift to grab lunch – one of the wraps that Clara, the owner, keeps on hand for her – but not often.  Still, Mukuro stays late most days anyway.  Just in case.

Today looks to be no different.

Except that this time, when Mukuro asks Kirumi how she’s doing, Kirumi avoids the discussion.  Her eyes grow dark.  “I….”  Her voice trails off, and her lips curve in a little frown.  “Nothing.”

“Something big coming up?” Mukuro asks as she gets Kirumi’s lavender tea ready.  (She’s considered having it ready and waiting before, but she’s never actually done it.  Maybe tomorrow….)  “Something…bad?”

“No.”  Kirumi sighs.  “Yes.  I’m not at leisure to discuss it, unfortunately.”

“Of course.”

That’s normal.

Mukuro wants to press further, but she suspects that trying to do so will only make Kirumi uncomfortable.  So instead, she hands her the cup of tea.  “Here,” she says.  “On the house.”  She opens her mouth as though to continue, closes it again, and then says, “And a donut.  They always make me feel better after a rough night.”

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine.”  Mukuro doesn’t smile, just rests her arms on the countertop and gives her a little nod.  “Just tell me which one you want.  I’ll take care of it.”

A blush spreads across Kirumi’s cheeks, and she nods once.  “Okay.”

~

Mukuro usually crashes immediately after her shift at Rose’s.  She sleeps during the afternoon and then spends the night and early hours of the morning playing COD.  Casual games, usually, or warm-ups for weekend competitions.  That’s no different today, and just as always, she pulls her phone up to check her DMs while she waits for the game to load.  Only this time, she has a message from the Ghost.

Her eyes widen.

Of course, Mukuro doesn’t have her settings to keep randos from sending her DMs, and since she and the Ghost share a common server, the Ghost can send her a message easily enough, just like Mukuro could send her one.  It’s just never happened before.  She takes a deep breath.

hidekisghost: are you free?

It’s been a couple hours.

Shit.

corpsey_mcmurderface: free now. corpsey_mcmurderface: sorry. crashed after work. corpsey_mcmurderface: what’s up

The Ghost probably isn’t available anyway, or she might be asleep, or—

hidekisghost: are you free to play a few games? hidekisghost: it would be beneficial to let off some steam. corpsey_mcmurderface: bad day? hidekisghost: you could say that. corpsey_mcmurderface is typing…. hidekisghost: thanks. hidekisghost: for being available. corpsey_mcmurderface: any time.

~

Mukuro loses count of the games that the two of them play – the games they win.  There’s no competing with them; the Ghost picks up when she falters.  Mukuro’s not bait, of course; she can take care of herself.  But whenever anyone gets close to her, the Ghost blows them out of the water.

Letting off steam indeed.

But eventually—

hidekisghost: i should go.  i have an early morning waiting for me. corpsey_mcmurderface: so do i corpsey_mcmurderface: i stay up and crash later hidekisghost: what a great schedule hidekisghost: but i’ve got people depending on me.  i can’t stay up too late. corpsey_mcmurderface: what, like a family? hidekisghost is typing…. corpsey_mcmurderface: not that that’s a bad thing corpsey_mcmurderface: families are cool corpsey_mcmurderface: expert cod player for a parent sounds super cool tbh hidekisghost: i’m not a mom corpsey_mcmurderface: you could be a dad hidekisghost: not that either. corpsey_mcmurderface: no offense hidekisghost: none taken. hidekisghost: funny that your first thought was parents. corpsey_mcmurderface: what else? hidekisghost is typing…. hidekisghost: nothing. hidekisghost: it’s nothing. hidekisghost: i’ll talk to you tomorrow. corpsey_mcmurderface: can’t wait.

~

~

Kirumi is whistling the next morning when she arrives at Rose’s.

Mukuro can’t help it – between having an actual conversation with the Ghost and Kirumi’s apparent cheer, she smiles, too.  Not much, not flashy, the way her sister might, but there all the same.  “Good morning?” she asks when Kirumi approaches the counter.

“More like a good night.”

“Oh.”  Mukuro’s smile freezes, so it’s a good thing that she’s facing away from Kirumi, fixing her tea.  “Good date?”

Kirumi smiles, a small thing easily hidden as she brushes her fingers through her hair.  “You could say that.”  She has the money set on the counter when Mukuro turns around.  “Thank you, for yesterday.  I didn’t deserve your kindness.”

Mukuro hands her the tea.  “Don’t mention it.”

“And you?” Kirumi asks, warming her hands on the cup.  “How was your evening?”

“Good,” Mukuro says, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face.  “It was really good.”

~

Mukuro doesn’t notice until after Kirumi’s gone that she’s left more than enough to cover her drink – more than enough to cover what Mukuro’d put on the house the day before.  Too much to be just a tip, even if Kirumi always tipped well.

It makes her smile.

It makes what already looks to be a good day even better.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Okay. Cool. That’s good to know. A part of me figured that was the case but since that everything purely said ‘Ask box closed’ I figured I’d better be safe than sorry and should wait until you opened it up again. And I’m so sorry that someone sent in that spoiler with a request. I really do hate that. And that’s great to hear that you slept so amazingly ☺ Gods, me too. I have this weird thing where I absolutely have no idea how much sleep I actually need beause I’m always tired, even if I sleep more than normal. Sure, I feel slightly more refreshed, but still hella tired. Okay. I’ll try to come up with everything I thought of saying at the time and will send it next time you respond to our DMs. And thank you so much for saying that. It most definitely was a great chapter and I hope I have good enough thoughts to add onto everything you’ve already said about it. Oh I see. That makes sense. I also usually go for those kinds of things and rarely watch purely romantic series, unless they’re recommended to me or they’re said to be really good. It really is. I finished A: TLA a few days ago and cried so much at the end. And I hope that you also get the chance to rewatch it at some point and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it when the time comes. I immensely enjoyed rewatching A: TLA and it’s funny beause even though it’s been a while that I’ve watched it before , I still knew a lot of everything concerning the story but that didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the moments. Like I still cried at another emotional scene a few episodes before the end beause it really is just so beautiful. I just started the last season of Demon Slayer that’s out today and I’m just in awe of the animation and how it looks and it’s making me emotional. I’m really so grateful that a series as good as that has such a beautifully well done adaptation. Couldn’t ask for anything more and hope that they continue doing it justice until the very end, though I have a feeling they will.

Thank you. I managed to get through everything I didn’t get the chance to read yet today, as you may have noticed 😅 And I enjoyed all of them and have written my thoughts down for them, though I feel like they’ll probably look quite repetitive 😅 Yeah, fandom is amazing like that. I’m really grateful for that and the way that they write all of the wikis. Yeah, one of the filler arcs in Bleach is really weird and I never rewatch that one. Oh that’s nice to know. And it’s also cool to know that they also translated the songs. Were they sung by the English voice actors or something?

It really was and luckily, now that I’ve restarted my computer again since it was being really slow, it’s gone back to how it used to be. And that could be. And thank you for calling the explanation clear. And that sounds good. I hope you get to read it beause one of the matches centres on some of my favourite babies and I really do hate that they messed up the adaptation like that. At least I’ll always have the manga, though it still sucks 😭 Yeah. And the fourth season still has some really well-done scenes, and there’s this scene of another kind of fave that I haven’t mentioned at all, that appears in that season, and they have like this really beautiful shot of his eyes. And that’s nice to know. No problem at all. Even though I probably won’t rewatch the movies, I do really appreciate that they animated those extra scenes beause they’re all important in their own way. Shame can’t be said for some later stuff and I know Covid had something to do with the second half on the fourth season, but the movie of this year and those OVA’s from many years ago have no excuse so yeah, it’s still a shame (I know I’m being really salty here so sorry for that). The chapter limitation really does suck, especially because both were really easy to get through for me, someone who doesn’t read as fast so I hope that you do get to read both on your normal app one day. Yeah, me too. Like even though I do have my faves that I’ve talked to you about, I still love all of the characters and am so proud of the growth that certain ones went through and it’s just all so nice. Like even my non-faves make me emotional. And yeah, especially those. Like the other boy I’m not normal about has such noticeable flaws and is such a silly boy (like I call him silly so often while rewatching some of his scenes) but he’s such a well-made character that you can’t help but love him.

Oh I’m so sorry to hear that and I can’t blame you for being upset by it. I hope at least that that character has good reasons or something. I’m also scared now, but also kind of intrigued to see it all. And true and that’s really nice. And you’re amazing for that. Glad to see that I’m not the only one who likes justified text. And no problem at all 😄 I’m doing pretty alright. Like I said, I watched some Demon Slayer today, which put me in a good mood but my mum was really judgemental about a certain thing concerning my dad which was so horrible to hear sine it was during dinner time so I just had to sit there and listen to everything she had to say, especially since I couldn’t come up with enough stuff to counter her. It really is always so painful to have to hear her comments about all kinds of things but I won’t let it keep me down because I know I have your writing to look forward to and many great anime and all kinds of stuff. Just couldn’t help but mention it. Hope you’re doing amazing and that the writing is going great 😊

C

I know you had figured that and I think it’s really sweet of you to be concerned about bothering me! You’re never a bother though and I enjoy seeing you in the inbox 😊Thanks – that one was rough as I’ve done amazing at avoiding Jujutsu Kaisen spoilers (blacklisted the general tag until I’m completely finished the manga read just to make sure of that). Though, just saying – I called that one way back in our messages but ouch, rough yeah, for both being spoiled and for what it said happened. I need way more sleep than the four to six hours I’m lucky to get a night. I’m horrible in being a super light sleeper where every little sound wakes me up though, even with my pills being in me. Caffeine is my best friend in all forms (coffee, energy drinks, caffeine infused chocolate or my favourite, chocolate covered espresso beans, even caffeine pills if the insomnia is really bad…yeah, I know, I’ll probably die of a heart attack from all the caffeine guys but adult life sucks and requires you to stay awake). Sounds good! I’m hoping to get a reply to our dm’s off maybe this weekend in between writing other things, where I have a weekend off. I can definitely get checking out series that are recommended to you, even if they’re not what you’d normally watch. I recently paused watching my other shows to binge through Mashle because it came highly recommended by two people I trust, even though it seemed like it would be just a blatant rip-off of One Punch Man. Turns out they were right and I loved it. I hope it will be that for you with the romance series when you do watch it through! The ending of A:TLA was definitely worthy of the crying and I remember crying quite a bit throughout that show. I loved Iroh, but I really had a soft spot for Azula and things got real rough for my girl around the end of the show. I felt horrible for her, I really did. I’m so glad that you enjoyed your rewatch of it, that it could still hit you in all the right ways despite knowing what was coming. When you say last season, do you mean this is it? It will wrap everything up completely or is there a plan for more (like a spin-off or anything) after this season or a follow-up like Naruto: Shippuden? I’m so glad the last season is starting out so well though and I’m with you in hoping it will continue to be beautifully done right up until the end, and not just because it’s high on my watch list.

I noticed and appreciated all the likes and am happy you enjoyed them all! And I never find your thoughts repetitive and am always really glad to hear your thoughts on my posts! Comments are always wonderful and motivating! I hate the Bount arc for Bleach and when I do get the urge to watch it, I always skip that arc, since it’s pure filler anyway! I’m pretty sure it’s all the English VA’s singing the songs but I noticed about halfway through season 2 there were some songs they didn’t translate and upon googling it, it looks like sometimes it’s hard to get the permissions needed to translate and revoice those songs. Either way, the music is really solid all through the show!

I’m glad your computer has gone back to how it should be and hopefully isn’t running super slow anymore! It definitely was clear and it helps me know what to expect. I’m someone who likes to get every single moment, so even if the movies are a lot of recycled stuff, I still need to watch them. Oh no! It sucks that your favourite didn’t really get what they should have when it came to the anime adaptation. I know how that feels and it sucks big time! I hadn’t even actually thought about the impact Covid would have had on animators and studios! A lot of what came out during that time would make more sense if they couldn’t really all do their work successfully from home, I guess. And hey, no, please feel free to be salty. Everyone has things they’re salty about, even me, and it’s cool that you feel comfortable enough with me to feel safe getting salty about things. Thank you for that! And so far, all the characters are great. I was pretty sure I’d dislike Hinata going into it, because those kind of characters normally bore me but I ended up just adoring him, which is the one that surprised me the most!

Thank you! I do hope that, when I get to reading and finishing up everything for the manga, I’ll see the reasons the author went that direction and that it ends up making sense in the story. If not, I’m sticking just with writing Nanbaka up to the end of the anime seasons haha! I’m so glad you’re doing okay and that you had some good moments, though I’m really sorry to hear that about your mother. I personally am of the opinion that spouses shouldn’t bicker or pick at each other in front of their children, but I know it happens all too often. It’s awkward for the person sitting there and uncomfortable. I’m sure you did your best to defend your dad and that he appreciated it a lot! I know it’s hard but try to focus on some of the positives of your day or lose yourself in something you enjoy and don’t let her steal your joy, my dear! You deserve more than that! And thank you! I’m doing okay tonight – just got my pills into me, sitting on my couch in boxers and a comfy t-shirt, eating a McCain cake out of the tin and writing (just finished a chapter…it was supposed to be a request for a one shot little drabble about me travelling with comfort characters and now it’s bloated into a whole multi-chaptered fic, haha)!

[ponds-of-ink]

Notre Dame AU One-Shot: “To Sketch A Specter”

In case anyone was wondering why I haven’t been active as much today, um.. This is why. 😅 This took pretty much all afternoon, but I’m happy with how it turned out! @angeygirl, I hope I did Mable justice. :D

It was a busy afternoon at the Fazbear’s Kingdom attraction. Young couple filtered into the small chapel to survey their future wedding destination. Curious children ram around the main area, telling tales of fantasy and mayhem as their parents watched from a nearby sitting spot. As for the teens and adults, not many stuck around for one reason or another. The few who did were either trading sketches of the grand facade on the outskirts or trying to scrounge up loose change for Sun’s Traveling Caravan. One such person who fell into the former category  met up with those in the latter. “Excuse me,” she said to one of the quarter carriers. “Do you know where I can find The Bell-Ringer?”

The boy quit scrounging for loose change. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. “‘The Bell-Ringer’?” he echoed. “Isn’t that just some way to explain to the kids why the clock tower goes off every hour or so without boring them to death?”

“Not necessarily,” the woman replied, turning to face the towering castle walls. “I heard from one of the workers that there’s someone actually up there. Dunno if it’s just some guy or a projection, but you can catch him at certain hours.”

The boy checked his watch. “Is one of those hours coming up?” he asked as he gazed up at the huge clock tower. “I kinda want to see this.”

“I have no idea,” the artist answered uneasily, taking a few steps forward. “All that the employee told me was that to look for a flickering lantern, then watch the bell itself. If you go inside the castle and view it through the Princess’s Perch, you’ll get a much better look at both the lantern and the Bell-Ringer.”

“Well, that sounds like your ‘quest’ now,” the boy quipped as he stretched wearily. “I’ve been running around the entire mall all day, and I’m not going to let my aching feet take another step. I’ll be sure to watch from down here after the show, though, Miss.. Uh...”

“Mable,” the woman answered simply. “You can just call me Mable.”

“Mable.. Right..” the boy muttered as he walked back to the decorated wagon. Then he added aloud with a wave: “Have fun trying to find that perch! Believe me, it’s a maze in there!”

Mable only waved back before entering the front courtyard. Her footsteps slowed as she took in the scenery. Despite being an impressively carved facade for a walkthrough attraction, it still had the look of a true castle or that one famed cathedral in France. Looming and majestic stone structure. Colorful stained glass painting its colors onto the “cobblestone” floor. Stairs partly under sweeping arches that slowly bathed the curious wanderer in shadow. Two giant ironwood doors that guarded whatever—or whoever— lurked inside. These two doors Mable shoved her shoulder into, slowly but surely allowing her in.

The incessant creaking those doors produced alerted the costumed employees. “Welcome, weary traveler!” one of them cried out after she fumbled inside. “Are you here for an adventure of a lifetime?”

Mable opened her eyes to see a long hallway with a velvety carpet leading to a somewhat elderly-looking man dressed in a scarlet-and-gold robe. “I guess so,” she answered honestly while advancing towards him. “I’m just here to find The Princess’s Perch.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place!” the man exclaimed with some jollity before gesturing to a small door with his walking staff. “Beyond that door is the path you must go to reach the Perch. But be warned: The time of the flickering lantern approaches. That means the Judge may be surveying the upper levels, ready to hunt down anyone daring enough to try this challenge.”

Mable raised an eyebrow at the last remark. “What’ll this Judge do to me if I get caught?” she inquired slowly as she made her way to the door.

“Hopefully, he will let you off with a warning,” the man responded warily, stepping in front of her and unlocking the door with a keycard. “If not, then be prepared to either be sent to another section of the castle— Or worse, be cast out of here altogether.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mable concluded as she began her trek up the winding staircase. “Thanks so much!”

“You’re very much welcome!” she could hear the man call out as she climbed higher and higher. “May the golden lamps guide you...!”

Now left alone with her thoughts, Mable kept ascending the steep stairwell. Her surroundings grew darker and darker as the narrow “windows” to the outside world became scarcer and scarcer. Fake candles soon took their place. The deafening silence gave way to an ethereal melody. And, as she finally neared flat ground once more, a glowing light aided her to the top. A shame that the source of the glowing light was yet another long hallway. This time, with blacked out arches and eerily familiar marble floors. Mable’s eyes lit up. “Hang on,” she thought as she properly stepped into the room. “This almost looks like that one level in Princess Quest I, except...” She halted her musing to peer through each open doorway. “That’s weird,” she muttered to herself. “There’s no monsters here like in the game. I guess I could see why they wouldn’t be able to put them in, but—“

Padded, static-ridden footsteps cut her words short. Thinking fast, she dove into a shadowy corner and stood as still as she could. Her fast-acting rewarded her with an unexpected sight: A cartoonishly blonde-brown rabbit dressed in judge-like robes phasing into the room like a literal ghost. It looked around, twitching its whiskers with a sneer. It pulled out a small bell from some pocket and rings it. “It’s almost time again, Agonia,” it announced in a deep, authoritative voice towards the two shut doors. “The Northern Wing must tremble with the clangs of those bells.”

Mable waited for the doors to open, but nothing happened. Only the rabbit’s perked up ears and self-satisfied smile told her that this “Agonia” had responded. She cautiously side-stepped to the nearest open door as the rabbit walked in the opposite direction. Then, feeling a new sense of dread, she hurried down the corridor and into another chamber.

Before her now was four LED torches boxing in a tile puzzle at the center of the room. Said puzzle seemed to be easy enough for the average family, but the dim lighting and the ever-present passing of time made her mind race. She tried several different combinations by moving the tiles with her feet. An abstract compass. Triangles stacked on top of each other. Even a simple square looked like a good option. Finally, after what felt like hours, a hint revealed itself. The edges of the puzzle lit up with four different colors: Red, blue, green, and yellow. Those same four colors were present in the tiles, albeit in a more muted tone. “I’m supposed to match up the edges with those colors, aren’t I?” Mable asked tiredly as she shoved the tiles once more.

The edges glowed even brighter once everything was in place. A click from the adjacent set of doors confirmed the poor girl’s suspicions. Shaking her head, she walked past the lanterns and into yet another chamber. 

This time, a wide hallway riddled with pits and more red-tinted tiles greeted her. She walked up to a red tile to step on it, but a message scrawled on the wall stopped her: TOUCH THE RED, THINK YOURSELF “DEAD”. 

“That makes sense, I guess,” she muttered, taking another look at the placement of the tiles. “They do line up with where the enemies would spawn in the game..”

Carefully, she backed away from the danger and started her trek again. Her lips moved faster than her entire body while maneuvering, mouthing either where each imaginary enemy’s location or the mantra the wall had given her. By the time she neared the scribbles on the wall, the melody died away. A faint thunk reached her left ear, making her head turn in that direction. Amid all the pitfalls, there stood a white-and-gold door shining like a beacon in a stormy sea. Her legs trembled as she removed herself from the wall. Step by step, she navigated the rest of the labyrinth.

Soon, she shoved herself into bright lights and fresh air. Her eyes widened as they processed her new surroundings. Instead of a rainy night “sky” and a graveyard, she was standing on a balcony overlooking the rest of the Kingdom. She leaned over the railing, surveying the events below. Sun’s Caravan sprang to life with its eager host regaling some tale of yore. The teens that once lurked in the outskirts now stood a short distance away from the clock tower itself, a few even having their own sketchbooks out. Mable’s eyes drifted from the group to the top of the tower itself. The clock’s hands marked five minutes before the hour while a black-iron lantern showed its purple flames restlessly moving in their glass chamber. A smile grew on Mable’s weary face. She had done it. She had already made it to the Princess’ Perch.

Unfortunately, her joy diminished as those same padded footsteps emitted from behind the white and gold door. She whirled her head to look at the wall behind her. Two wooden signs hung on the stone wall. One that said “Princess’ Perch - Rest Here if You Are Tired” and another that just had an arrow pointing to an ironwood door. She swung open the second entrance and hurriedly closed the door. Now she was plunged back into near-darkness. However, she lingered near the door for a moment. Waiting. Listening for the padded footsteps to go away. 

The only thing Mable heard in that darkness, however, was that same booming voice issuing out a warning of “five minutes to the hour” to the Bell-Ringer before leaving through the same door he entered. A relief for her, yes, but now she had concerns for the poor soul forced to do this. “I hope he’s not as stuck as I am,” she muttered to herself as she glanced over at the puzzle before her. “I’d hate to solve any of this on top of having to ring that bell.”

Seeing as she was most likely stuck in here, however, Mable pressed on. She looked at the unlit lantern, then at the empty “crevice” blocking her from her exit, and finally resting her eyes on more etching on the wall. “‘What color was the lantern’s flame on the Princess’ Perch?’” she read slowly, hoping that the barely visible black-light paint was highlighting the words correctly. “‘Purple, yellow, green, or blue?’”

Pulling out her sketchbook, she wrote down her answer and pinned it onto the wall. “Please accept this, O whoever runs this puzzle,” she pleaded in a low tone. “I seriously don’t think I can shout ‘Purple’ out loud right now.”

To her astonishment, the unlit lantern flared up with a golden glow. Another question revealed itself on the wall adjacent to the crevice. “‘What time did the clock show?’” she asked softly before returning to her sketchbook. Scribbling in an answer, she hung her page up against the wall. “Is this right?” she questioned a tad louder, gazing up at the ceiling as if there was someone controlling things above her. 

A section of the floor slowly slid out from underneath the pitch-black rectangle. The ever-so promising click of an unlocking door made Mable’s heart race. “Thank you so much,” she whispered to her unseen guide as she walked over the ‘bridge’. Elated with her current situation, she swung open the door and entered into the main hall. Another thunk followed, this time accompanied by fairy-like lights and more ethereal sounds. “Congratulations!” the robed man’s familiar voice called out around her. “You have found both the Perch and the way out! Now, before you leave, you have a choice to make. Beyond those doors is the way to escape the maze, but you will be unable to go back and see if you’ve missed anything. If you decide to stay a while longer, the doors will remain open. However, you will run the risk of encountering the Judge and losing it all. Tell me, O brave defender of the realm, what is your choice?”

Mable checked her watch. It was now three minutes to the hour. “I only have one question,” she said aloud, cupping her hand to her mouth. “Do the traps reset themselves if I decide to stay?”

“No,” the man answered promptly. “The only trap you will have is the Judge himself.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’m definitely staying,” Mable grinned, making her way back to the starting puzzle with an eager stride. “All I have to do is wait it out on the Perch, do what I need to do, then hurry out the exit. Shouldn’t be too hard now that all the obstacles are turned off.”

“Very well,” the man responded solemnly as she navigated the maze much more swiftly. “All I can ask is for you to not be so sure of yourself. He’s very quick to disappear into the shadows..”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” the young woman answered as she put her hand on the white-and-gold door. “Thanks again for the help!”

With one cautious push, Mable re-entered onto the balcony with much greater enthusiasm. Her eyes bounced from the clock hands to the lantern. She neared the railing and pulled out her sketchbook. The clock ticked as she flipped to any empty page. Her smile grew wider as she returned her attention to the scene before her. “Five,” she mouthed along with the ticking. “Four. Three. Two...”

The lantern’s purple flame flickered in-and-out, as if a great wind threatened to snuff it. A lanky, tattered figure materialized right in front of the artist’s eyes. Seemingly unaware of her presence, the ghostly stranger picked up a huge strand of rope and tugged on it with all his might. The bells clanged, forcing Mable to cover her ears with one hand and her shoulder until the ringing stopped. Then, when all was quiet again, she scribbled her rough outline as the stranger disappeared. Mismatched, hunched over, yet somehow strong enough to ring a giant bell— this was the Bell Ringer in a nutshell for her.

Somewhat content with her work, Mable strolled to the other side of the balcony. She took one last look at the view before entering back inside the building. Her footsteps lightly carried her as she crossed the bridge and once again completed the loop. She skipped to the two doors with bright eyes and a mind at ease.

A faint creaking put out the shine in those eyes. Mable froze. She listened once again for those padded footsteps. Only silence greeted her. 

Mable crept back to the adjacent room on her left. To her surprise, the Bell Ringer was also peeking behind a door. “Hello, um,” Mable sputtered out, brushing back a strand of her long hair. “I’m just about to leave, don’t worry! I was sketching out the tower, and—“

The Bell-Ringer put a skeletal pointer finger to his mouth, as if to noiselessly shush her. Then he gestured to certain words and letters on the walls. 

Mable stared at him slack-jawed for a minute or two, but a repeat of the gesture made her realize his intentions. Using her sketchbook, she translated his movements: “What—d-i-d—y-o-u—d-r-a-w–?”

“Well, I drew a bit of the tower itself,” Mable answered, flipping until she found the correct page. Then, she lifted it up  to the lantern’s light so he could see. “I tried to sketch you too, but it came out a bit rough. Sorry if I didn’t nail your... um.. physique at all, Mr. Bell-Ringer.”

The stranger looked at the sketches, then nodded slowly. “Good drawing,” he signaled.

“Thanks,” came the woman’s sheepish reply as she flipped back to her original page. “Hey, can you stand there for a second longer? I think I can do a better job now that you’re actually here.”

“All right,” the poor man answered via his ‘code’, readjusting himself a little. “But please hurry.”

Mable bobbed her head in agreement, then got to work. Her pencil flew through the structural part despite having to deal with a half-human, half-pixelated face (among other things). She did falter a bit on the cross-hatching section due to having to account for the pupil, but that could be fixed later. All that mattered now was getting the subject matter properly represented in her style.

Meanwhile, the man tried to stay as still as possible. He did let his eyes repeat the “hurry” message whenever she looked up from her drawing, but her confidence eased his worries a bit. So much so that a new thought came into his mind: What if, when the Judge came by and saw them, he could cover for her somehow? Say that he got too curious and stalled her when she was really wanting to go back to the outside world, maybe? That technically was how they got to this point, so the alibi could be fool-proof.

Fortunately for them both, that moment never came. Mable closed her sketchbook and gave him a thumbs up. “It’s been fun exploring this place and getting to know you better, but I’ve gotta go,” she quietly explained as she waved. “I’ll send you a finished version of the sketch, Mister... Uh... What’s your real name?”

“Agonia,” he answered before pointing to himself. 

“You’re Agonia,” Mable replied, putting a hand to her face. “I should’ve remembered that. My bad.”

Agonia noiselessly chuckled, then shooed the flustered sketcher back into the main hall. With one final wave of his hand, he vanished behind the door out of sight.

Still reeling a bit from the encounter, Mable pushed through the two golden doors and entered into the final chamber. Above her was a mural with a yellow-dressed princess running from a shadowy creature and the words “You survived the gauntlet!”. Feeling even more proud than before, she descended the much more grand staircase as a fanfare sounded. The closer she reached the bottom, the more commotion she witnessed. Employees dressed in medieval garb talked in hushed whispers around the man in the scarlet robe. She couldn’t gather much of what they were saying, but she figured it had to have been about her and that dumb judge. “I’m all right, by the way,” she announced to them as soon as she made it to solid ground. “I made it out alive, and I got what I needed.”

Some of the employees stopped talking instantly. Others hurried to her side and inquired about a lot of things. A few stayed behind to give one final warning to her once-jolly guide before joining the questioners. Though this was a bit stressful to enter into, she humored them with her story.

[moonluringfrost]

15 Tags 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @bloodlessheirbyjacques! Thank you! I’ll be answering these questions as Geige, as an exercise to try to get a better grasp on his voice. That said this is probably him in the Second Arc of TSGQ where he’s a bit older

1. Are you named after anyone?

That’s a good question. Knowing my father, I’m probably named after some pre-radiance figure or another. But I don’t know enough about history to be sure. My full name is a bit of a mouthful, in any case. My brother is the one that gave me the name I use day-to-day. I never got a chance to ask him why he picked it, either.

2. When was the last time you cried?

There are tears in my eyes right now as we speak. It’s okay. I just always get a little teary when I think about my brother. They say grief fades with time, but...

3. Do you have kids?

I think I’m a bit too young for that. I haven’t even found a suitable match, let alone children. I will have them someday, though. It’s sort of a requirement, when you’re heir to the throne.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

I’ve not had much practice with it. Such behavior is unbecoming of a prince, from what I hear. Though I’m sure I can pick it up from Healer Scheele if I try hard enough. I’d like to try.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

I tend to notice people’s clothing first. You can tell a lot about a person based on what they choose to wear and how they wear it.

6. What's your eye colour?

They’re brown. Rather a common color, but I like them.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I have quite enough fear in my day-to-day life, thank you very much. If I’m going to hear a story I want it to be something I couldn’t live myself.

8. Any special interests?

It would have to be music, of course. There are few things I love more. Listening, playing, composing... I love it all. The way that music can influence mood and spark the imagination is just fascinating to me.

9. Where were you born?

I was born in Dawncrest Castle, as any prince of Lethia must.

10. What are your hobbies?

I occupy most of my free time with the piano, when my health allows it. I’ve also been learning to play cards from Healer Scheele. It may be an unprincely pass time, but I think it’s rather fun.

11. Do you have any pets?

Do plants count? I have a few of those. Otherwise I’m afraid not. I’ve always wanted one though. Perhaps a bird some some sort.

12. What sports do you play / have played?

I’m afraid I’ve never been quite well enough for sports. I’ve always wanted to try fencing, though. My brother was quite good at it, and he made it look like such fun.

13. How tall are you?

I am five feet tall.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Well, I had tutors rather than school, but let me think. Probably mathematics. Numbers make sense to me in a way I find most other things do not.

15. Dream Job

[Laughs] If I weren’t a prince, you mean? Hm... I’m under no illusion that I would be able to make it as a musician... A healer perhaps? It would be nice to help others the way I’ve been helped.

.

I’m tagging: @imbrisvastatio, @sweetorangepeel, @wild-daffodils, @kaiusvnoir, @akiwitch, @klywrites, @calicojackofficial, @indecentpause, @muddshadow, @blind-the-winds, @flowerprose, @jezifster, @moonypleasewrite and anyone else who sees this and thinks “oh that looks like fun”

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Dumb Luck- Steve Harrington x OC

Steve Harrington x Ella Warner

Description: Steve has been acting weird, and Ella is surprised when she finds out the reason why.

Word Count: 2.2k

Steve had been acting weird lately. Like, really weird. And that was saying something considering who he was friends with and everything that had happened to him since becoming friends with them. This wasn’t a mind controlling Mind Flayer type of weird or anything like that, he was just…different as of late. He was just being distant.

Steve loved to touch Ella. It was just how he showed affection for her - he always needed to be touching her in some way. When she cried he always cradled her face as he dried her tears, when she was scared or nervous he’d hold her hand or have an arm around her. When she was upset he would wrap her in a cocoon-like hug that always helped her feel better. Even when nothing was happening he would be touching her via hand holding or something similar. It was his way of showing her that he was there when words failed him. 

That wasn’t to say that Steve stopped showing her affection altogether, it was just a rare occasion when he spent the usual amount of time doing so. Ella could count on one hand how many times Steve had touched her for more than a few seconds in the last few weeks alone. Not only that, but his heart wasn’t as into their conversations anymore. Steve was a very emotional person and he always put his heart and soul into just about every conversation he had. That didn’t seem to be the case lately though. 

It was worrying Ella. Any time she wasn’t in his presence she would rack her brain in an attempt to figure out what could be going on. She went over any small thing that he’d said to her lately to see if it would clue her in, but she came up short. As far as she was aware, things were fine with his friends and family, and he was still happy with his job at Family Video. So, what was wrong? She had no idea, and she didn’t know if that scared her more. 

“Oh, you guys will never guess what I got today,” Wendy said excitedly. She, Robin, Steve and Ella had been hanging out at her house lounging around on the couches all day, trying to keep cool from the summer heat. The others couldn’t help but laugh at the randomness of her exclamation as she picked up her bag and rummaged through it. After a moment of searching she made a noise of triumph and pulled out a VHS tape, allowing the others to look at it. 

“Return to Oz?” Robin read aloud incredulously. 

“Hey, it’s a good movie,” her girlfriend defended. 

“It’s creepy,” Ella shot back, shivering dramatically. “God, those Wheeler characters gave me nightmares.” 

“What is it?” Steve asked curiously, making the girls look at him. 

“Hold on, you’re telling me that you work at a movie store and you haven’t even heard of Return to Oz?” Wendy asked, feigning annoyance as she glanced at her girlfriend. “Can you believe this guy?”

“The absolute gall,” Robin added while shaking her head disappointedly. Ella giggled at the interaction, and Steve looked like he was ready to smile at the sound, but he quickly forced it down. The girl’s laugh faded quickly and she looked away. 

“Well, how about a movie night?” Wendy suggested, cutting into the awkward silence that almost fell upon the group. Robin grinned and nodded. 

“Great idea. Steve, go to the convenience store at the end of the street and grab some snacks for us.” 

“What? Why me?” 

“It’s my girlfriend’s house, I’m not leaving her, and Ella didn’t drive here,” his friend answered simply with a shrug. The boy groaned, but stood up. He slid on his jacket and grabbed his keys then stayed in the living room long enough to press a kiss to the top of his girlfriend’s head before making his leave. All three girls watched as the door closed, then as soon as it clicked shut Ella looked at her friends. 

“Can I ask you guys something?” She asked. 

“Does it have something to do with the fact that Steve’s been acting like a weirdo the last few weeks?” Robin retorted, earning a nod from the girl. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” 

“I was hoping you’d know. You’re his girlfriend after all.” 

“I don’t know,” she groaned, leaning back in her seat defeatedly. “Do you…you guys don’t think he’s going to break up with me, do you?” 

“What?” Both girls exclaimed in shock. Ella shrugged defensively. 

“I’ve spent so long trying to figure it out and that just feels like the only logical explanation.” Robin looked at her girlfriend anxiously. Wendy, knowing that Robin only rambled when she didn’t know what to do or say, decided to take the lead. 

“Ella, honey, I think that you’re automatically assuming the worst because you’re so worried about him, and don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s okay to worry about him because yeah, he’s acting really weird, but you’re overthinking and that is making you believe that he doesn’t love you anymore. And that in itself is absolutely ridiculous. I’ve never seen someone look at you the way that Steve looks at you. Like, he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Steve loves you, everyone can see that. He may just be going through something at the moment that he doesn’t want to tell you yet. The best thing you could do is just be there for him and remind him that he can talk to you if/when he’s ready.” Ella sighed as she mulled over her friend’s words, then ultimately nodded. 

“You’re right, thanks Wendy,” she responded with a weak smile. The girl offered her a reassuring smile, then once Ella turned away she fist bumped Robin. All of them faced the door when it opened again. 

“Honey, I’m home,” he joked as he set the bags down on the coffee table. The girls flocked around the table and began going through them. A bright smile appeared on Ella’s face as she opened a bag and noticed a bag of Reese’s Cups. 

“They were having a sale,” Steve explained as he retook his seat. The girl’s heart fluttered as she looked at him. Maybe Wendy really was right; maybe she was just assuming the worst. 

The rest of the evening went by normally - well, as normally as it could be given Steve’s behavior. Ella continued to receive mixed signals from him during the entire movie. He didn’t have an arm around her but he got up and got her more soda  without being asked when he noticed she was out. He barely held her hand, but he also found a blanket for her when she grew cold. It was weird and all the more confusing. 

Once the movie was over Steve and Ella took a minute to help clean up before they said their goodbyes before heading out. The actions of inconsistent meanings continued as Steve both opened the door of the car for her and put in her favorite tape as they drove, but he inadvertently refused to touch her or really look at her that much. When they finally pulled up to her house, they just sat there for a minute. After a moment of neither of them doing anything, Ella opened her mouth.

“Steve…” she trailed off slowly, catching his attention. “You know you can talk to me, right? It doesn’t matter what it is; I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me.” The boy looked surprised by her words, and he offered her an awkward grin. 

“I know, babe,” he muttered. 

“As long as you remember,” she muttered with a small smile, leaning over to kiss him goodnight only for him to pull back at the last second. Hurt and disappointment shot through her, and she tried not to cry as she turned away. 

“Uh, goodnight,” she muttered dejectedly, but before she touched the door handle Steve spoke up again. 

“Wait,” he said quickly, making her look at him. She waited patiently for him to figure out what he wanted to say. It was clear he needed a minute. 

“I just…” he sighed, falling back against his seat. “It’s you.”

“Me?” Ella repeated, both offended and shocked simultaneously. The boy’s eyes widened when he realized how bad that sounded. 

“Wait not like that,” he amended quickly. “I…I feel like I’m not enough for you.” Now the girl was just confused. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, much softer this time. 

“I mean, look at you,” he gestured vaguely in her direction. “You’re working your dream job, and you’re making some good money off of it. You live on your own in a nice house with no responsibilities and you’re comfortable with your life. Me? I’m twenty and still live with my parents while working an average wage at Family Video. I’m still best friends with high schoolers and have basically no friends my age. I just see you living your life and being happy, and I keep getting nervous.

And I don’t want you to think I’m jealous of your life or anything. I’m really not, I’m just…I’m scared of the day you wake up and realize that I’m not good enough for you. And not only that but I can honestly see a future with you and I want to be able to provide for you when you need it because that’s the kind of guy you deserve.” Ella stared at him in shock as he finished speaking. Out of anything he could have said, that wasn’t even in the top ten. 

“Steve, that’s absurd,” she said after gathering her thoughts. “You wanna know what happened to me? Pure dumb luck. I have absolutely no idea how I got that job at Mythos because I definitely didn’t have the experience to do so. And I moved out on my own because I had to. My parents were getting close to unbearable and I knew that if I didn’t get out of there then I would just become bitter like them. I just happened to be lucky that there was a landlord willing to work with me for rent. Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice to move out straight out of high school. And those high schoolers? They’re my friends too. Robin and I may as well be sisters at this point and the kids come to me for advice when yours doesn’t follow through, which is much more often than you may think.” That elicited a laugh from Steve, which in turn made Ella smile. She carefully took his hand, lighting up when he flinched but ultimately didn’t pull away. 

“My point is that I just got lucky with all of this. And I know not everyone gets that, but I think you did too. Sure, you work an average wage job and you live with your parents. But there’s nothing wrong with that, and you get to work with one of your best friends. As a matter of fact you have an entire friend group that has your back no matter what, and they know that you have their back. Even if they may be a little younger, they’re still a rad group of people that view you as their friend. 

And as for you being enough for me, I know myself better than anyone else. That means I know what’s good for me and what’s not, and you are good enough for me. As long as you’re content with your life, that’s more than enough for me. It doesn't matter what you do or where you live as long as you’re happy. That’s all I want out of a partner, that’s all I want for you.” She squeezed his hand gently once she finished her rather passionate rant. Steve looked like he felt much better now as he nodded, and he lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. 

“Okay,” he muttered upon lowering their hands back to the middle console. 

“And hey, if your living situation really bothers you that much, you can move in with me anytime you want,” she added nonchalantly with a shrug as she faced forward again. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her boyfriend perk up. 

“Wait, are you serious?” He asked, tone bordering on excitement. 

“Sure,” the girl answered with the same enthusiasm. “I mean, we’ve been dating long enough for it to be acceptable to move in together. Besides, at least you won’t have to travel all this way just to pick me up for a date.” 

“We could have more date nights at home,” Steve added cheerfully, which made her giggle as she nodded. 

“Totally!”

“Let’s do it,” he said eagerly, now holding both of her hands while he leaned over the middle console. Their grins were infectious to each other. 

“We can start tomorrow,” Ella responded. “As for tonight, why don’t you just spend the night? It’s getting pretty late.” Steve nodded in agreement, then pulled away to turn off the car and get out. As usual, he jogged over to her side and opened the door for Ella. They walked up the steps of their (future) shared house hand in hand, and everything felt right again.

[thatinsufferablenerd]

Languishing in the Relentless Ache

The weather here is cool but cleared up from the rain we had last week. My husband started using our fireplace to keep our poorly insulated house warm without running up the gas bill. Our dogs like it. We all caught COVID again. Well, we’re not 100% sure it’s COVID since no one has gotten a test, but the symptoms line up and the misery is very, very real. It started setting in last weekend and has been kicking our asses since. My son spent three days home from school. All my energy has been focused on making sure he’s taken care of, that the bare minimum of housework is done, that our dogs go in and out and stay out of the litter boxes, things like that. My husband was affected differently and spent two days mostly asleep in bed. Between that and drumming up the courage to put out the call for a critique partner/writing buddy (and possibly finding one), I haven’t had the energy to do much. I don’t have the energy to be depressed about the election or worry about the actual nightmares I’m having at the decision to get a job. 

That being said, I am in the final chapters of the Arrancar saga of Bleach. The Big Bad has been defeated along with the other major players. I’m a little behind on my update thoughts and haven’t read much in the last few days being busy with other things. I’ve enjoyed the experience so much more in page form. I think anime is obligated to drag out fights a lot longer than necessary because they have a run time to fill and used to run week to week rather than the season model we get these days. I’ve noticed it less in more recent adaptations. Combat just feels snappier on page. I’ve learned that there’s a difference between watching fight choreography and watching UFC or HEMA (shout out to Scenic Fights on YouTube). It’s kind of the same in anime. I like a big dumb anime fight as much as anyone else, don’t get me wrong. When they hit, they really hit. I could name a dozen off the top of my head that are iconic and incredible for multiple reasons. But when they miss, they REALLY miss. Limited page space and chapter length really does help keep it from overstaying its welcome. 

Instead of reading anything else on my TBR, I made an author friend who generously let me read his books in exchange for my first draft. I’ve finished the first, barely started the second. Ruins of Ivy by Aaron Ramsby is book one in the Aurora Project series, Forgotten Steel is the second. Post-apocalyptic settings can offer quite a bit of material to explore. It’s a good opportunity for speculative biology, stories with themes of perseverance and the power of community, interrogating our relationship with the past or other institutions. Like other types of speculative fiction, it relies on worldbuilding and lore revealed throughout the story. Ruins of Ivy was a zippy read for me with approachable prose and some intriguing hooks that are keeping me engaged into book two. 

Making a friend with someone who’s a published author is always a treat. Most authors (at least self-published ones, in my experience) are happy to lend a helping hand to newbies or other up-and-comers. I’ve had more than one offer me encouraging words, compliment my work, give me some really helpful advice about the writing process or the publishing industry. In several cases, it’s led to free books too. Not as many lasting networking opportunities or friendships, though, but I’ll admit that’s partially my fault. I’m as bad at keeping friends as I am making them. I’m hoping to keep this friend. Having someone else believe in you is such a confidence booster. Sitting around thinking you write like a middle schooler on Wattpad and then having a stranger say you have an elegant, high brow style that inspires them to up their game? I cried. 

Aaron has been kind enough to look over my current project. While he’s currently not far into it, he has given me a lot to think about. That’s what’s taking up a lot of my time right now. Catching up on his books and talking nuts and bolts of prose to him. Well, that and being sick as a dog. It’s nerve wracking, of course. The constant critical questions and playing devil’s advocate. My knee-jerk reaction is panic and put up my boxing gloves, but I know he isn’t doing it to be an asshole. Critique is key to the editing process, and if I intend to publish, GoodReads reviewers will be way harsher than he could ever be. It’s easier now than it was at the beginning, and having reassurance helps. I wish I had more writing friends, though. Tolkien was lucky enough to have peers in two separate writing groups in his lifetime. That’s my dream. 

I have done a little bit of writing. Not a lot, but enough to say I wrote. A page or two. I’m more disappointed that I keep saying I need white board time and not getting it. I did get out my little one and jot some things down, but I need REAL time, with my thinking cap on, with notes and documents and research, like the old days. It’s harder when I have sick kids to care for. Other things have been taking up my time. Like sleeping. And crying over the new Dan Da Dan episode. 

Instead of rehashing in paragraph form all the good fucking good I watched YouTube this week, here’s a handy list: -Pop Culture Detective: “Human Nature, Hope and Ice Cream” 

-FD Signifier: “Edgelord Movies Finally BROKE ME” 

-Wrestling With Words: “If You’re Doing These 7 Things You’re Doing Worldbuilding Right” 

-The Legendarium: “What Makes Prose Good” (parts 1-3) 

-Tale Foundry: “The Kids’ Horror Spiral”

-Princess Weekes: “Main Character Syndrome and The Authenticity Trap”

-Curious Archive: “The Most Powerful Type of Worldbuilding” 

I know this post is much shorter than the last two, but I am very tired and sick. I’m looking forward to being better next week. 

Stay safe out there y’all. <3

[jodilin65]

I guess I’m gonna squeeze in one last entry for the year (it's actually shortly before midnight). That is if I can write and edit it before the clock strikes midnight.

Listening to some scattered fireworks now, but not as much as I expected. Haven’t heard any since I last mentioned them, so it hasn’t been nearly as bad as July 4th was. It’s only 46° which is pretty damn cold for Florida, so that may be why.

Again, I’m not looking forward to the year ahead, knowing that I’m most likely in for all kinds of health problems and fatigue. As crazy and as superstitious as it may sound, I still worry something up there wants me tired and to impact my day-to-day life to the point where I’m just existing and not living, and therefore it’s going to block any attempt I make to try to fix it. I don’t expect any success with weight loss either. You have to have a normal thyroid for that. I don’t know if I’ll be in for a mix of the same old ongoing problems and new ones, but hopefully, nothing will be as bad as a decade ago.

Too tired to go on now, so this will have to wait till next year.

Later…

Still exhausted but I watched the ball go down, and instead of being excited for the year ahead, I burst into tears suddenly and unexpectedly. It only lasted for a couple of minutes but I haven’t cried like that in ages.

Later still…

Placed an order on Temu for Swiffer dusters, flower stencils, and hangers for the 18-in doll clothes. I’ve got all this closet space so it would be nice if I hung them up rather than stuffed them in drawers and bins because I want to keep everything in good shape in case I decide to sell anything.

We’ve been talking about selling the treadmill, Bowflex, and the vibration platform but he might want to keep the Bowflex and I think I want to keep the platform a little longer. I’ll offer the treadmill up in the park group but we’ve got to discuss what we want to ask for it.

Anyway, after showering and eating I got a burst of energy and did a little cleaning among other odds and ends. I decided to try not to worry too much about the future of my health because, like most of us, we have little to no control over what may come our way. Even though I don’t normally make New Year’s resolutions because I figure anything worth making a resolution to do would be a good thing at any time of year, I do have a few goals. Now that I have new insurance and new doctors, I want information. I want to know about alternative sleep apnea treatments, I want to know if there’s a way around my thyroid issues that would help get some weight off, and I want to make one last-ditch effort to fight for the N24 drug. As I told Tom, I don’t know that I can live the rest of my life being tired half of the time so if worse comes to worst, I’ll have a serious decision to make but that has to be MY choice to make. But I’m not going to give up until I’ve tried everything I can possibly do that’s within my power to help myself.

The stomach cramp and yeast infection are improving (I think).

Although I’m still wary of the year ahead, I’m hoping that 2023 is indeed the year I slayed the dragon! As in the beast called anxiety that tormented me to no end for the better part of a decade. The beast that nearly drove me to kill myself and that would have succeeded if it weren’t for Tom. I still hate the thought of deserting him but one can only take so much suffering, although the fatigue is certainly the lesser evil. I can’t stress it enough when I say that between the medication side effects and the transition from perimenopause to menopause, it really took the word “anxiety” to a whole new level and gave it a whole new meaning that I had no idea existed. I still don’t want to get my hopes up too high as far as thinking I kicked the anxiety for good. The killer anxiety that sent waves of adrenaline through my chest and fucked with my mind. It hasn’t been a whole year. But the fact that the days I was anxious last year don’t even amount to a month is incredible! I may have to worry I’m not going to have enough energy to get through the day when I get up but no longer do I have to be afraid to wake up and be tortured with what was easily the worst feeling in the world.

I am a little worried about Adonis, though. It was his birthday yesterday and I realized I hadn’t heard from him in ages. The last thing I see on his wall was posted in July. I know he wasn’t in the greatest headspace last time we talked so I hope he’s okay. I sent him a message and posted on his profile so hopefully I’ll get an answer soon. I don’t even know if he left the Netherlands to meet Joy in Vietnam or what’s going on in his life. I know he was upset about some things going on in his country and the world in general.

I get him there! I don’t know what would be worse…to be stuck with Biden again or for Trump to get reelected. Biden has been giving billions and billions of our dollars away to other countries and letting thousands and thousands of immigrants burden our system, but if Trump gets in as I think will be the case, we can count on the loss of freedoms intensifying and maybe even some that affect us.

Just random bits and pieces of dreams lately that don’t make much sense. I don’t remember my dreams as much as I used to but last night I overheard one of Termite Tammy’s bratty kids saying she had a mild heart attack. I’m not going to check her wall as I haven’t in quite a while because I just don’t care anymore. Not about her, not about her brood. They can live, die, be happy, be miserable, be successful, be failures, be healthy, be unhealthy… it’s all the same to me. I’ll never be able to forgive them or the people in Arizona but they’re not at the forefront of my life and mind anymore and they never will be again because I won’t be dumb enough to let them.

I also had a dream that I was supposed to ride my bike to some kind of art class while Tom was out (working?) but I didn’t go because it was too cold and started snowing.

Then there was another dream where we weren’t living in an adult community. Our house was on a large lot sort of behind a larger house in which someone recently moved into. They had a partially submerged basement and I peeked through the blinds to see a guy rummaging through a bunch of tools and other shit. I was worried I was going to be in for all kinds of noise.

In the last dream, I was hitting the road only it was in real life and I was jogging. I was jogging down a street filled with heavy traffic at a comfortable pace.

I miss the days when I was able to do that but I’m definitely not in that kind of shape anymore due to the fatigue holding me back. Even if I was in great shape, that’s not something I could do during the summers here. I’d have to jog in place since the house is too small to really run around much in.

[xstarsdiary]

guys I haven’t even watched the fnaf movie yet cause I’ve been so busy but I’m already so obsessed with Josh Hutcherson as Mike Schmidt 😫 I also have the worst case of baby fever so I knew that I had to write this straight away.

not avatar related but i seriously just needed to get this out my system.

Imagine Mike having a pregnant s/o who is in the second trimester of pregnancy as is just so needy for him all the time..

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : pregnancy sex, pregnant reader, teasing, pet names, unprotected p in v, slight fingering, barely any foreplay, masturbation, breeding kink, light spanking, creampie, aftercare, kisses & cuddles at the end ☺️

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 : mike schmidt x pregnant reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bit rushed at the end, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢 𝟏𝟖+

You feel so deprived. Deprived of your husbands touch. Deprived of his praising words in your ear. It’s torture. Months and months without any release has left you stressed and touch starved, the need to be filled up and stuffed with cock worsens everyday.

For the first few months of your pregnancy you felt nothing but sickness and exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep all day. Now that you’re in your fifth month of pregnancy and your morning sickness has stopped you’ve been a lot more productive, cleaning more, cooking more, you’ve even started to make your husband meals for when he has his night shifts.

The only downside now is you’re so fucking needy. All you need is to be filled, pumped full with your husbands seed all over again but you’ve just been to shy to ask, too shy to make any moves.

That was until tonight. Your husband had the night off work and so he had taken the opportunity to go late night grocery shopping. He made sure that you gave him a list so that he doesn’t forget anything, remembering the last time he had gone shopping for you and forgot to get three avocados instead of two. That day was an absolute shit show.

You had been pumping your fingers in and out of yourself, tears flowing down your cheeks and your body hurting as you struggled to even reach over your growing bump. You’re now desperately chasing your climax, your fingers not long enough to reach that spongey spot inside of you nor thick enough to pleasure you.

You huff as you change positions, now kneeling on the soft mattress with messed up blankets and pillows surrounding you as you mindlessly grind against your fingers, letting out a lewd moan and sigh of relief as you begin to feel that familiar knot tighten.

With tears building up in your eyes all over again and small whimpers leaving your lips, you hastily chase your sweet release. You feel so so close, inches away from pure ecstasy before-

“Fuck!” Your loud cry can be heard from the other side of the house as you hear the front door slam shut. You quickly get up from the bed, holding back sobs as you cry over your failed orgasm. You were so fucking close, so close to snapping before you heard your husband come home, ripping your orgasm away from you.

Footsteps get louder as your husband nears your shared bedroom, calling out your name with worry laced in his tone. He heard your shout.

Your still a crying mess, stood in nothing but a thin, loose blue tank top as you watch the door burst open, your husbands eyes widening with worry at the scene in front of him.

His eyes trail your body, taking in your naked bottom half as he sighs, noticing the shiny slick practically dripping down your plump thighs. He silently walks towards you, taking you into his arms as you let yourself cry.

“What is it? What do you need, pretty girl? Hm?” He knew exactly what you needed. You needed to be pumped so full of his seed until you become pregnant all over again.

Your a blabbering, hiccuping mess as you try to speak. “I need- huap! I need you s..so bad!” Your cries almost break his heart as he rubs small circles into the small of your back, pretending not to notice the wet patch on his clothed leg which in situated right in between your thighs.

Mike lets out a small “tsk”, gently tugging the hairs on the nape or your neck as he pulls your head away from his chest. Your face is a flushed red and all glossy with tears and for some reason the sight of you like this creates a funny feeling in his stomach as he feels himself begin to harden.

“Please Mike, please..” You plead, pulling at the hem of his shirt with one hand and feeling up his chest with the other. You’re no longer shy anymore. You just need his dick now. That’s all you can think about.

Mike makes no other movements, continuing to play with the hairs on the nape of your neck and gently rubbing circles on your bare hip with his thumb. “How long have you been like this?”

You let out a whine as you become impatient, tears still flowing out of your eyes and fogging up your vision. “Too long! Just please. I really need you!”

As soon as you say those words Mike decides that you’ve both waited long enough, practically ripping off his shirt as your dainty fingers unbutton his jeans. One of his hands move to wrap around you, supporting your weight as the other rests on your bump, slowly lowering you down and onto the bed.

Your light moan gets stuck in your throat when he moves back up to pull down his boxers, his hard cock springing out and slapping his lower stomach. A bead of pre-cum leaks out of his tip and drips down his length causing you to gulp and nearly drool at the sight.

Mikes hands move to your thighs, spreading your legs agonisingly slowly as you stare into each others eyes. The second his fingers touch your neglected, dripping cunt you let out a breathy moan, flinching at the contact as he rubs his index finger between your glossy folds. His touch feels like heaven. It feel so ethereal, like you’ve truly been blessed.

“So fuckin’ wet..” He’s now spreading your lower lips with his fingers, groaning at your pretty pussy on display all for him. He prods his middle finger at your hole as you mewl, slightly dipping the tip of his finger in before pulling it back out, a trail of your slick stringing in between you and his finger as he moves to rub small, gentle circles onto your clit.

“Ngh- fuck!..” your hips instinctively buck against his hand, relishing in the feeling of him finally pleasuring you after so long. He uses his free hand to push down your hips, making sure not to use to much force but also making sure you stay still.

His middle and ring fingers slide into your drenched cunt easily with a loud squelch, the sound of your own pussy driving you crazy. “Oh, Mike..” His fingers feel so fucking good, better than yours ever could as he scissors you open.

You know that you don’t need the foreplay, you’re already wet enough. Yet you let him continue for just a bit longer, letting out soft moans as you feel yourself getting even more aroused, your slick dripping down his fingers.

“Mike..” Whining, you squirm away from his fingers, tears brimming in your eyes at the empty feeling once he pulls them out. You inhale a deep breath as his raspy voice comes out, his breaths slightly shallow as his dick stands painfully hard against his pelvis.

“What is is, baby?” Fuck his voice is hot. His tone nearly makes you cum on the spot. “I don’t need- just fuck me now, Mike.”

His brows raise in surprise at your demand before a smirk appears on his face. In a heartbeat he has you on your hands and knees, now kneeling behind you on the bed as he rubs his pink tip between your folds, using your slick as lubricant before slowly sliding himself inside of you, making sure you feel every inch of him against your walls.

“Ahh~ fuuuuck..” Your voice quivers at the feeling of being so unbelievable full, getting even more stretched out by the girth of his cock. You can feel him rub and push against your sweet spot, emitting a loud pornographic moan out of you.

One of Mike’s hands rest against your plush hip, the other landing a light smack to your ass, a stinging pain shooting through you as you curse. “Shh.. i got you, i got you.” He assures you, a moan getting caught in his throat as you push yourself further against his pelvis, begging for him to go deeper.

He gently pulls your body up so that your back is against his chest, so that you’re now kneeling on top of him. One of his hands rests on your jaw, slightly tilting your head back as the other stays gripping your hip. Your hand moves behind you to grab a fistful of his hair, your mouth agape and breaths uneven as your other hand rubs small circles onto your bump.

His first few thrust are experimental, testing your reaction, making sure that your comfortable and happy sitting on his cock all pretty like this. This was your first pregnancy and so the pair of you had never had pregnant sex before, Mike made sure to be extra gentle and patient with you as you meet his thrusts, grinding down on him.

“Oh- shitt..” He grunts, his scalp burning as you tug harder on his hair, now bouncing on him to the best of your ability. He can already feel himself getting close, but I mean after months of of not being able to be inside of you he’s sensitive, almost like a virgin and has a big load waiting to be released so who could blame him for not lasting long.

He’s not mad at himself though, no. He can tell your the exact same, so close to already cumming all over his dick, he can tell by the way your walls are clenching around him and your bounces are getting sloppier and uneven.

“Mm.. Mike I- I’m gonna..” your a breathless, moaning mess at this point, the only thing keeping you upright was Mike’s hands holding you up.

“Gonna come?” He whispers, his breath tickling your neck, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. You vigorously nod, gathering up the strength to bounce faster and harder on his twitching cock, “mmmhhfff, ah-nngh” You can’t even form any words properly as you can feel yourself about to snap.

Your orgasm is like a wave at the beach, pulling back and forming before it crashes down, and when it crashes- it fucking crashes.

The second Mike’s fingers rub at your small bundle of nerves you snap. Your vision going white and mind foggy as you convulse around him, legs shaking and back arching against his stomach. “Mike- Mike- Mike- Mike- Mike!” You chant his name over and over again, unable to think of anything or feel anything but your stomach tightening and pussy clenching around him as he continues to drag his cock in and out of you, keeping your orgasm going for as long as possible as you cry out, tears flowing down your cheeks once again.

“Fuck! M-ikee!!” Your words are broken as you blabber, now overstimulated as he continues to rub your clit and pump inside of you, his thighs clapping against the back of yours and your slick making mess everywhere.

He’s so close. You can feel his dick twitching and throbbing inside of you, his load threatening to spill. “Hold on, baby.. you can take it a bit longer yeah princess?”

In all honesty, you don’t think you can. You can already feel another orgasm approaching you, this one bigger than the last. “Fuck! I’m gonna come all inside of you, hm? Fill you up with a whole ‘nother baby.” He manages to grunt out as his thrusts become sloppy and slower.

“Please! Please! Please! Please!!” You cry out once again as your second orgasm washes over you, your eyes foggy and pussy overstimulated.

Mike’s mind goes haywire as you clench around him, clenching so right that it finally tips him over the edge and into his own climax. “Shiiitt, fu-uuck…” You can feel his warm, sticky cum fill you up, your juices now mixed together as he slowly pumps into you a couple more times before gently pulling out, looking down over your shoulder and watching as his seed drips out of your used cunt.

The straps of your loose blue tank top have fallen down, revealing one of your breasts and peaky nipple to him as he gives it a gently squeeze, a sigh leaving your lips.

Mike lifts you to move you onto your back before laying you back down on the bed, crawling on top of you as your lips meet in a passionate kiss. You’re sore and dirty now, both of your liquids all over your cunt and thighs. You let out a soft whimper as Mike moves away from the kiss, silently putting fresh boxers on before walking into the bathroom, shortly coming back with a damp cloth and a new pair of underwear for you.

You smile at the sight, your husband was always so caring and attentive when it came to aftercare, always making sure you were clean and comfortable. You wince as the cloth meets your sensitive heat, Mike whispering soft praises that you can barely catch as he ever so gently cleans you up before sliding your panties onto you.

It wasn’t much longer until the pair of you were cuddled up in bed, wrapped in your warm grey blanket with the nightlight on as a random movie played on the television. You were pressed up against his side, your head resting on his bare chest as your baby bump pressed against his hip.

“I love you so fuckin’ much baby..” were the last words you heard before you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, the warm presence of your husband making you feel safe and secure.

[na-ta-sh-aa]

If in the previous chapters I had shed a few tears this one literally made me cry rivers, it was so touching to see how Honey admitted how scared she was and how she didn't want to face this alone. I loved how she let herself go in front of Jake and how he consoled her and assured her that he will stand by her and won't leave her😭🫶🏼

“I could uh—“ Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a Christmas guy, but he was a family first person. “I could fly out? Maybe get the kids from your mum's house and get them back to Rhode Island? I’m not doing anything this Christmas so I’ve got time.” 

I absolutely loved this conversation between Jake and Bradley. The way Jake was finally able to share his pain, worries and fears with someone other than Maz, I think was quite liberating for him. I also found Bradley's gesture of offering to pick up Jake's children and stay with them incredibly supportive and sweet. It's so nice that Bradley didn't even think about it but he immediately offered to help Jake in some way. The only thing I wonder is how Jake's mom will react to this change of plans.

“No worries, I’m uh—I don’t even know what to say man, I’m so sorry, no one deserves to go through this.” It hit Rooster too close to home, his mother died when he was seventeen from Breast Cancer very similar to yours. It took her quicker than doctors had ever anticipated.”

Bradley knows what Honey is going through and I'm sure it breaks his heart just remembering what his mother had to go through.

“When I was about your age I accidentally hit one of my commanding officers' car while pulling out of the car park at the Naval Base I was stationed at.” Jake mentioned as he let himself curl up in the world's most uncomfortable chair. “Point is we all make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it, but I’d definitely be a little more cautious when reading patients emergency contacts.” 

I really liked how so far both Jake and Maz have been very understanding and have tried to reassure Lydia that mistakes happen. On the one hand, Jake should also thank Lydia for calling him because at least this way he has the chance to be close to Honey during her suffering and in the worst case during her last days, at least he can stay by her side and support her in all possible ways. Without the wrong phone call it is more than likely that Jake would have continued to remain in the dark about everything.

“You–” Jake clenched his jaw as tight as he could, you swore he could have chipped his bottom teeth he was clenching that hard trying to control his frustration. “You don’t get to fucking do this to me do you understand?” 

I think that at this moment Jake was no longer able to keep all the emotions of the last few hours at bay and that's why he reacted like this. He felt betrayed by the woman he loves and by the mother of his children but I also think guilty of the fact that he pushed her to no longer trust him. I think he felt anger and frustration both at being left in the dark but above all at the possibility of losing her and not being able to do anything to prevent it.

“I didnt–I just didnt think youd, you'd care about me.” Your cries were muffled into Jake's shoulder as he held you, he wanted to climb right into the hospital bed with you, but he couldn't. So Jake compromised and leaned over just enough to wrap you in his arms and rub small circles into your back as you buried your face in his chest and shoulder. “I didn't think you’d fucking care–because you haven’t cared about me in years!”

This part was so sad, but I loved that she finally told Jake how she really feels and how she has felt about the last few years of being with him.

“I have never stopped caring about you.” Jake cried too, he couldn't hold it in any longer. “I have never and I will never stop caring about you Honey.” It was a hard statement to believe especially with what the past four years had been. “I promised you in sickness and in health, I'm here, I've got you.” Jake cooed as he tried to soothe you, your cries of pure anguish for your own situation made him want to die. What more could he possibly do to ease this burden from you, what could he possibly do to take the pain away. “I'm here, I'm right here.” 

I am increasingly convinced that Jake is telling the truth here with all his heart. I think he never stopped loving her and caring about her, I think he took some things too much about her for granted and didn't handle some situations in the best way that led Honey to distance herself from him. But I think as far as his feelings for her, they never wavered for even an instant. I loved the way he emphasized and reiterated that he is now there with her.

“Unbeknownst to both you and Jake, Lydia was watching just out of frame from her spot at the nurses station. She couldn't help but to notice the loving, all encompassing look the two of you shared.”

I loved this last part so much. Seeing how they were able to talk and say things to each other that they hadn't had the time or opportunity to say in such a natural way was so beautiful. I also found it very interesting how Honey was amazed and surprised at how Jake went against the rules to save Bradley, how he somehow changed.

“You’re totally right–” Jake cooed. “He might need to bring his flight helmet as a safety precaution.”

In all of this, the idea of ​​Bradley being totally unaware of what awaits him once he takes the children and brings them home makes me laugh.

As always, this chapter was literally wonderful. I loved seeing both Jake and Bradley's relationship in more detail as well as Jake and Honey's relationship. I loved how Jake blindly trusts Bradley and how Bradley is willing to do anything to try to help in this terrible situation that is not new to him. I think that of all people, Bradley is the one who can best understand what Jake is and will be going through. I'm glad Jake and Honey spoke clearly to each other. Seeing how despite everything they hadn't said to each other and what they went through they managed to tear down the walls they had built between them and be clear about what they were feeling really warmed my heart. I think the fact that Jake thought so much and was tormented by the fact that she didn't tell him about the cancer is a gesture that shows how much of a priority she is to Jake. The development and complexity of Jake's character is something that leaves me speechless with each passing chapter, it's really well written, I love it, just as I love the fact that now she can have the man she loves by her side. I also loved this part so much, their conversation was the thing that struck me the most because of how intense and full of emotions it was but the rest of the chapter was no less, this story and the way it is written it is of a unique and immense beauty. Truly beautiful💗✨

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eight: [Oh, Honeybee]

Summary: Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life-threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4K

Author Note: Smaller chapter, but still the same level of pain. Let me know what y’all think about the confrontation of it all.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“The fuck?” Bradley Bradshaw hated the festive season. He wasn't a Christmas guy. He didn't have an awful lot of family to celebrate with over the consumerist holiday that was shoved down your throat before mid November. He just wasn't the kinda guy who wanted to get involved in the festivities. 

“Who's calling you at ten at night?” Natasha Trace would probably end up regretting her decision to sleep with her co-worker and friend, but the drunken antics she and Rooster had gotten up to earlier in the afternoon ended up with a trip back to his house. 

“Its Hangman–” Bradley answered the naked woman beside him as he sat up in the bed he truly never should have brought her back to. He knew Phoenix would end up regretting her decision to sleep with him. A pity fuck they’d both end up calling it. “Hello?” 

“Are you busy?” Jake asked as he continued to watch you sleep. It had been a few hours since he got to the hospital and about two since he told your mother to go home for some much deserved rest. 

Bradley looked over his shoulder to see Phoenix rolling over, her chest laid flat against the mattress that smelled so much of Bradley. He sighed, peeled the covers up from over his legs and swung them over the side. 

“Nah, what’s up? Everything good?” The pair hadn’t always been on good terms, but ever since Jake had ultimately risked his own life to save Roosters, the two had been able to put their differences aside and let bygones be bygones. 

“I don’t think I’m coming back after Christmas.” Jake started as he let his head lean against the far too uncomfortable hospital chair he’d been sitting in for the better half of four hours. “Somethings’ happened and I dunno what I’m gonna do man.” It was the tone Jake was using that made Bradley frown as he slipped into his sweats. 

“Something happen to one of the kids, man?” Rooster has never heard Jake sound so defeated before. But as he padded down the hall Rooster had to stop in his tracks as Jake explained your current situation. He read the notes right from your chart, from the type of cancer to the stroke you had, how he tried to tuck your hair behind your ear and it fell from your scalp. How he’d tried to win you back, how you’d slept together, how you told him you still loved him yet thought divorce was the best way to go about things. Jake emptied his heart on Bradley sleeve and Bradley didn’t know how to process the pain and anguish Jake was obviously feeling. 

“Are you at the hospital right now? With Y/n?” 

“Yeah—yeah I just sent Maz, Y/n’s mum home to rest and shit.” Jake ran his hand across his face as he watched the IV bag containing your sedative get smaller and smaller. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when you woke up and saw he was here. “I’ll probably go between here and her house, the kids are at mum's place and I can’t imagine what they’re thinking knowing that we’re both not there.” 

“I could uh—“ Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a Christmas guy, but he was a family first person. “I could fly out? Maybe get the kids from your mum's house and get them back to Rhode Island? I’m not doing anything this Christmas so I’ve got time.” 

“Bradshaw,” Jake nearly sobbed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“It’s nothing, really, you’re one guy man, stay with your wife, or ex wife? I don’t really wanna get into your business but just text me the details when you can and I’ll organise your kids.” 

“I’ll text you my sister's number.” Jake replied. “She’ll help you out.” There was no real reason to argue, Jake knew that once Rooster had his mind set on something he was gonna do it. 

“No worries, I’m uh—I don’t even know what to say man, I’m so sorry, no one deserves to go through this.” It hit Rooster too close to home, his mother died when he was seventeen from Breast Cancer very similar to yours. It took her quicker than doctors had ever anticipated. 

He just hopes you wouldn’t meet the same untimely fate. 

“Anything man, anything you need, I'm there.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Time seemed more like an artificial construct as Jake watched Lydia disconnect the line that had been slowly feeding your body with a moderate range sedative. The young nurse looked guilty as she tried to avoid eye contact with the man she had accidentally told private patient information to. 

“She’ll slowly start to wake up over the next hour now that she isn’t slowly taking on the sedative.” Lydia explained. “She might be quite irritable and loopy but I’ll have her surgeon come by for assessment once she’s up.”

“When I was about your age I accidentally hit one of my commanding officers' car while pulling out of the car park at the Naval Base I was stationed at.” Jake mentioned as he let himself curl up in the world's most uncomfortable chair. “Point is we all

make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it, but I’d definitely be a little more cautious when reading patients emergency contacts.” 

“You’re wife’s a pretty strong woman Mr. Seresin.” Lydia smiled. “I hope that despite whatever reason she was keeping all this from you, that she’s happy you’re by her side when she wakes up.” Jake chuckled as he slightly readjusted himself and pulled his hood over his head. There were a plethora of ways you could react to his presence running through his mind, he hoped though, that the young nurse who’d accidentally filled him in on your current fight was right. 

“I hope so too kid, I hope so too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The slow steady rhythm of the many monitors currently tracking your vitals were the first sounds you heard as you slowly but surely woke from what you could only describe as one of the deepest states of complete and utter rest you’d ever experienced. 

Next it was the multi coloured Christmas lights that were hanging around your room. The reds, greens, yellows and blues that reminded you of nineties joy were the first things you noticed in the dimly lit hospital room you knew you were in. 

The third thing you noticed wasn’t a sound or an object, but it was the all too familiar sleeping man curled up in the most awkward position imaginable next to your bedside. Jake, your Jake. Sleeping with his mouth open wide and his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Woah—“ You groggily cooed as you felt the presence of another man checking your vitals beside you. “Whatever the hell kinda drugs you’ve got me on right now Doc has me seeing my ex husband.” You smiled ear to ear as you kept looking at Jake, sleeping, a little bit of drool even tainted his chin as his arms remained crossed and his hood covered his head. “This shits strong as.”

Doctor Ignatii continued reading and recording your vitals the more you came to, he knew, judging by the time you’d finished your dose of intravenous sedative and how cognitive you were, you’d come to realise in about two, maybe three minutes indefinitely that it wasn’t the drugs making you see the mirage of a man at your bedside, but in fact the real deal. 

“Mrs Seresin, can you follow the light for me?” Doctor Ignatii asked with a smile as he clicked on the small but effective flashlight at the end of his pen. He was gentle with the way he handled your head ever so cautiously, holding your eyelids open one by one as you followed the light accordingly. “Can you count to five?” 

“One, two, three, four, five—“ You mumbled out. Jake heard your voice as he stirred next to you and shot up with a gasp that startled you. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he sat upright and wiped the dry drool from his chin. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr Seresin, I've seen a lot of ways people have tried to sleep in those horrid chairs but I’ve never seen that particular position before.” Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he clicked his pen light off and placed it back in his top pocket. “Alright Y/n, wiggle your toes and touch your nose for me.” All you did was stare at your husband. Why was he here? Who told him? “Mrs Seresin, wiggle your toes for me please.” Doctor Ignatii was a little firmer in his request, he wasn't sure if you were just distracted or if you simply couldn't comply with his request because you couldn't feel your toes.  

But when you finally did wiggle your toes, when you finally brought your index finger up to your nose and when you finally spoke, Doctor Ignatii knew that in the next hour or so when he got you up and walking, that you were going to be just fine.  

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was rather horse from the sedative but you were able to ask Jake that all too powerful question that sliced his skin clean open like one of the sharpest knives never could. Doctor Ignatii knew that he had to give you some space when he was finished assessing your ability to wiggle your toes he cleared his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I'll give you two a moment alone, but Lydia will be in shortly.” He explained before making his way out of your hospital room. The silence was deafening as Jake cleared his throat and looked anywhere but in your eyes to begin with. 

“Jake–” You immediately asked again as you tried to sit up a little straighter. “What are you doing here?” Jake ignored your initial question and instead pressed his tongue into the middle of his cheek. His blood was boiling, he was so full of rage that you hadn’t told him you were sick that he couldn't think straight now that he knew you were awake and talking. You were supposed to be the mother of his children if at the very least. He felt like you had an obligation to disclose medical diagnoses that could alter the course of your children's lives. Right? 

“You have cancer and you didn't tell me?” Jake frowned as he spoke through a tired growl. “You have cancer and you didn’t think to mention it at all, not even a downplayed version of the truth? You just–” Jakes reaction wasn't something that surprised you, but his anger did. That anger was something you hadn’t seen in a long time, anger born from love and compassion. An anger so pure it rivalled empathy itself just in a different font. “You just negated the entire thing? Jesus Christ Y/n! You have–” 

“Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” You interrupted Jake as tears welled in your eyes. “I know, I found out back in November, I hadn’t been feeling all that well since around March.” You kicked yourself everyday for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner, but with your separation, work, the kids, you just decided to self diagnose yourself as an overworked mum who had little to no time for herself. Finding the time to see a doctor was nearly impossible, it was only when you found that lump in the shower you panicked. “Jake I–” 

“You–” Jake clenched his jaw as tight as he could, you swore he could have chipped his bottom teeth he was clenching that hard trying to control his frustration. “You don’t get to fucking do this to me do you understand?” 

“Excuse me?” You questioned as Jake stood up from the chair he’d been cramped in for the better half of the last twelve hours. “I didn’t choose to do this willingly Jake are you fucking kidding me?” It may have come out more aggressive than Jake had intended it to, but his heart hurt so much he swore he was having a heart attack the more he looked at you in the hospital bed connected to machines and wires that told him what your heart was doing and what your blood pressure was. “I didn't choose to get fucking cancer!” 

“No, no you didn’t Y/n but you chose not to tell me about it.” Jake sighed. “Am I really that bad of a person that you can't tell the father of your fuckings kids that you might be dying? Stage three!? I'd understand if you had a scare and didn’t mention it or a bad rash but stage three?” Jake spat as he walked around your hospital room like he was looking for a way out of this whole mess. “That’s closer to a death sentence than it is to a malignant mass!” 

All you could do was listen, you couldn't run this time. You had to face the man who broke your heart more ways than one as he raised his voice and walked around your hospital room with his hands on his hips. 

“You, you had a stroke too.” Jake's voice softened as did his eyes, the realisation had hit as the immediate love filled anger that clouded his judgement faded. The misguided anger that he might truly be losing the love of his life had begun to wash away as the sadness crept in. 

“Yeah–” You didn't hold it against Jake, you'd had more time to process this than he did. “Apparently the chemotherapy was just causing havoc to my nervous system and caused a clot that travelled from my leg to my brain.” You said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal. Jake's eyes widened at the idea of something that was meant to help you had done so much damage. “I was given a pamphlet, strokes were a side effect, but I just didn’t think it would happen to me you know.” 

“Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he came back over to your bedside. “I–” There was a distinct tentative pause in the way his hand automatically went to slip into yous, but even though Jake second guessed his own judgement there for a split second, he still placed his hand in yours and reveled in the way you squeezed him back. “I can't understand why you wouldn't tell me about this.” Jake had tried to understand, truly he did. He thought about it alot on the plane–all the ways in which he’d ever let you down. He understood he was a shitty husband, or had been, but this was life or death. 

Jake almost wished he never asked why and had instead just silently accepted the fact you decided not to loop him in on what was probably your biggest health complication since Samuel was born. He almost wished he hadn’t asked because the way you looked right into his eyes as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered with such a heartbreaking cry of anguish that ripped through your chest, Jake wished he hadnt fucking asked. 

“I didn't tell you because I just didn't think you’d care.” You cried violently as Jake helped you sit up. “I didnt–I just didnt think youd, you'd care about me.” Your cries were muffled into Jake's shoulder as he held you, he wanted to climb right into the hospital bed with you, but he couldn't. So Jake compromised and leaned over just enough to wrap you in his arms and rub small circles into your back as you buried your face in his chest and shoulder. “I didn't think you’d fucking care–because you haven’t cared about me in years!”

“I have never stopped caring about you.” Jake cried too, he couldn't hold it in any longer. “I have never and I will never stop caring about you Honey.” It was a hard statement to believe especially with what the past four years had been. “I promised you in sickness and in health, I'm here, I've got you.” Jake cooed as he tried to soothe you, your cries of pure anguish for your own situation made him want to die. What more could he possibly do to ease this burden from you, what could he possibly do to take the pain away. “I'm here, I'm right here.” 

“You don’t have to pretend.” You tried to calm yourself down as much as you could. “Please Jake you don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore, I’m not yours.” 

“No you’re not—“ Jake nodded in agreement as he pulled away to wipe your tears, you looked like hell but he wasn’t about to tell you that. To Jake you were still the most beautiful woman in the entire world, the only woman he ever needed, wanted. “But I’m still yours alright, you have me and I’m not pretending.” Jake wiped the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, he tried not to tug at the oxygen tube feeding into your nose. “I’ve got you yeah? You don’t have to do this alone.” 

“I never wanted to do any of it alone.” You sobbed again, it was all too much. Jake knew what you meant by all, you never expected your marriage to fall apart. Neither did he. “I can’t do any of this, I’m so fucking scared.” If someone had asked Jake three years ago if his marriage would fall apart around him, he would have stood up and punched whoever had said such blasphemy in the mouth. But here he was. 

“You’re okay.” Jake tried his best to console you, he did know what else he could do in the moment beside to hold you. The kiss he left atop your forehead was so pure and full of love you swore it sent an electric shock through your body, the same kind of electricity you felt when you slept with Jake the night before you said goodbye to your kids. “I'm not leaving your side alright, “I’m here, I've got you, I can't lose you this way– I wont.” 

Jake knew this love was a burden that you both shared. The both of you were just two sinners who can't atone from a lone prayer. Two souls tied, intertwined by pride and guilt. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake was true to his word, he didn't leave your side for the rest of the day. He stayed right by your side hand in hand, just sitting there, talking, not talking, sleeping. All that mattered was that he was there. 

“What do you mean Bradley Bradshaw offered to get the kids from your mum's house?” You thought for a split second that perhaps you hadnt woken up. Or maybe you'd actually woken up in some parallel universe where your husband never forgot how to love you and he didn't have a disdain for the man who gave him his Call Sign out of rage. “Bradley Bradshaw? As in Rooster?” 

Jake couldn't help but to smile, there was so much he had to fill you in on, the two of you hadnt really sat down and spoken uninterrupted without the kids since January. Sure there were family functions and times where you and Jake had to coexist and coparents. But he never really saw a reason to tell you all about his time in North Island. You were with him when he was called to Togun the first time, there wasn't any need to really rub your nose in the fact he was called back again. After all, a part of the reason you left was because Jake prioritised his work life over his home life, more specifically, you. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I saved his life?” Jake couldn't erase the grin that grew ear to ear from his face as he watched your eyes light up with shock and excitement. He missed this, the gentle moments. 

“You did not–” In all the time you had known Jake while he was a loyalist to the United States Navy, he had never once put a toe out of line. Never pushed back, never rocked the boat. He had a goal and that goal was to reach the top. You couldn't do that while drawing unwanted attention to yourself. 

“I did,” He chuckled through that very grin that you swore was permanently pinned to his cheeks. “Even went against orders to do it.” The look of pure shock on your face told Jake all he needed to know, you didn't believe what he was telling you. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Jake Seresin?” You chuckled softly as Jake ran his thumb across your hand. “You? Going against the brace? Unheard of.” A lot of what made Jake, well, Jake–was that he loved his job. 

“Trust me Honey I never thought I'd see the damn day either.” Jake sighed, he still couldn't believe how much his time in North Island had changed him. How it broadened his perspective on all the things that made him simply him. “But he was stuck in a pretty tight spot, so was Mav, our Captain.” 

“Well–” You smiled as you readjusted yourself in your bed. Unbeknownst to both you and Jake, Lydia was watching just out of frame from her spot at the nurses station. She couldn't help but to notice the loving, all encompassing look the two of you shared. Perhaps her small mistake that usually would have been a carrier ending HIPAA violation wasn't so bad after all. “Look at The Hangman go huh, who says he's always leaving people out to dry.” 

“Oh I could still name a few–” It was organic the way you and Jake fell into a rhythm with one another when the pair of you allowed each other to do so. “But yeah, he's gonna fly in, get the kids for us because I really don't want them there for too long without at least one of us there and bring them back to your mums for us.” 

“Is she alright with that?” As always Jake knew you would think about everyone but yourself when the only person you should have been thinking about right now was you. “What if she–” Jake cut you off with a simple shake of his head.  

“I already organised it.” Jake explained softly, his thumb never stopped stroking your hand as he held it. “Your mums gonna take the kids while we figure all this out, I don't want them with mine.” It wasn't that Jake didn't love his Ma, he did. But the idea of her having the kids for an extended amount of time gave him stomach issues he couldn't handle. “I saved his life, I trust him to escort our three terrors back here.” 

“Have you met our kids? You asked with an all knowing look that Jake caught right away. Maybe Rooster wasn't the best person to call on, he had zero experience with kids, let alone Jake's twins and two year old. 

Jake knew that you knew there was a darkness in the distance, but in the moment while everything felt normal, you both laughed together knowing exactly how the flight with your kids would go for Bradley Bradshaw. 

“You’re totally right–” Jake cooed. “He might need to bring his flight helmet as a safety precaution.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[iguana-braces]

I Heard From the Heavens (Rooster x Reader)

Based on this request (and also the iconic “Hold My Hand”) – Masterlist

Description: “You can cry every last tear

I won't leave 'til I understand

Promise me, just hold my hand”

Warnings: death, like, lots of talk about death, there’s a funeral, Rooster definitely has some things to work through, it’s 95% sad as shit and 5% not?

Word Count: 2.9k

Note: I’m sure this is way more sad than the original prompt and I am virtually hugging each and every one of you readers in apology. The total number of times I cried writing this: 19. But hey, we finally get a Rooster POV so that's fun 

Also, we’ve got some OC side characters here, so they get randomly generated names because I don’t want to do Y/F/N, Y/F/H/N, Y/M/C/A, etc. Feel free to mentally change the names as you’d like, I’m not a telepath, I cannot stop you.

Spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick (in case you still haven't seen it but are reading fanfic for it for some reason?)

You thought you'd be able to make it through the day, even as you dressed in all black.

Even when you saw Bradley in his dress uniform. Even as the two of you drove in near silence to the church. Right up until you stood at the door and tightly hugged your friend, Iris, who looked like she hadn’t slept in a month. While you knew she was a strong woman, it was like a simple gust of wind would blow her away at any time.

“It’s good to see you,” she said quietly. It didn’t feel like you could find any words that meant the right thing. I’m sorry for your loss didn’t feel like enough. My condolences. Is there anything I can do to help? You’d wanted to ask that on an hourly basis ever since you heard. All you could do was hold her hands and try to smile and hope that she knew what it meant. That was when the cracks in your façade started to show.

Then inside, there was the casket covered with an American flag, next to a picture of Wes in his dress uniform. The same one he was wearing now. Inside the casket. Funerals were always strange. How were you supposed to reconcile the memories of someone, their laugh, their smile, their shitty sense of humor, with the fact that what remained of them was now lying cold and eternally immobile just a few meters away from you? That was the most infuriating part of it all, the permanence. It's death. It's final, forever fixed and there's nothing anyone can do to change it. You don't even get the chance to try.

Throughout the service, you could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. You bowed your head when they ordered prayers, you laughed at the anecdotes of Wes’ bumbling proposal to Iris, his love for rescuing animals, and so on. But something else kept your teeth clenched painfully tight through it all.

This was the church where Wes and Iris had been married, just two years earlier. A wedding you’d been a bridesmaid for, wishing them nothing but happiness and joy in their future together. But two years was all they got. And suddenly, the engagement ring around your finger felt ice cold against your skin.

Then there was the internment. They fired rifles and handed Iris that folded up flag and now you were really crying. There was so much ceremony involved in saying goodbye, summing up the entirety of one person’s life in a matter of a few hours. Celebrating them, honoring them, and mourning their absence all at once. Where were you even supposed to start?

You couldn’t help but think just how easily it could be you holding that flag. Even though Rooster was beside you now, he couldn't stay there forever. He’d have to leave again, and maybe one day he’d be coming back in pieces like Wes. But you had known this, you had known this from the start. And you knew it when you accepted his proposal, what was supposed to be the beginning of your future together. Still, the reality of it all had never seemed to hit you until just now.

You finally let yourself glance over at him. His lashes were wet with tears, but he remained strong, stoic, silent, saluting rigidly as Wes’ coffin was lowered into the ground.

Then there was the wake and laughter and more tears and all you wanted to do when you got home was collapse. Instead, you put on a movie in bed and let yourselves fall asleep to it. Anything to take your mind off it all.

But you couldn’t sleep. Lying there, staring at Bradley in the dark, trying to memorize every inch of his face, the curl of his hair, the temperature of the warmth radiating from his living, breathing body. Closing your eyes felt like a betrayal of the highest degree, you didn't dare miss out on a single second of existence with him.

But the longer you were awake, the worse you felt. There had been times, especially during long deployments, where you woke up in a cold sweat, thinking you’d heard a knock at the door or the ringtone for a call from a voice you never wanted to hear. And sometimes there was no way of talking to Bradley, no way of knowing if your fears were valid or not. All you could do is sit and wait and hope with everything you had.

Even now, it felt like that knock might come at any moment, waking you up from the dream that he was there with you. That was just exhaustion and trauma playing with your mind, but you couldn’t lie there any longer. Even sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, you felt yourself itching to walk past the bedroom again, just to make sure he was still there.

Taking only your keys and a jacket, you left. These streets were familiar enough that you didn’t mind being out so late on your own, letting your mind wander as your feet carried you aimlessly forward.

Anybody you married could leave you a widow, Rooster wasn't the exception. Car accidents were common enough, so were undetected diseases and random acts of violence, natural disasters, animal attacks. But Rooster chose to put himself in the line of fire. He was a target in the air, a threat, while piloting a delicate aircraft going hundreds of miles per hour, thousands of feet off the ground. A lot could go wrong up there, as you were both well aware.

For the most part, he never really talked about what happened on missions and of course, it had to have been classified to some degree. But there was something more than just state secrets that he was hiding in his silence. Sometimes you could just tell something had gone wrong, he'd been in some kind of danger but he never wanted you to worry about what could've happened. What was important was that he made it back in one piece and that’s all there was to say about it.

At the same time, you had stopped telling him about your nightmares. They didn’t mean anything. They were just the result of your neurons randomly firing as your unconscious mind processed information, or something like that. Just a passing feeling, nothing to waste your time worrying about and nothing to cause him to worry about. But sometimes it felt like you were too busy keeping things from each other that you ran out of material for a real conversation.

And what kind of life was that? Is this what it was like for everyone else? For Iris and Wes? For Rooster’s parents? God, what you would’ve given to know them. For what felt like the fiftieth time that day, your sore eyes started tearing up again.

Letting your head fall back towards the sky, you stared up at the stars. Beautiful as always, but who knows how many of them were long-dead already, blinked out of existence, and you just couldn’t see it yet. We’re only ever witnessing the pasts of the stars, what they used to be, beams of light traveling through space long after the source has destroyed itself. Memories, that’s all they were. Nothing but blazing, brilliant memories.

~~~~

Rooster had woken up before the sun, as always. Noting your absence next to him, he let himself assume you were in the bathroom and rolled over, closing his eyes again. After the events of yesterday, a little sleeping in could be considered acceptable.

But when he woke an hour later and you were still gone, that was when he knew something was wrong. The house was empty and your phone was still on the nightstand, your wallet still in your purse. Only your keys and sandals were missing.

You weren’t anywhere outside, and none of your friends seemed to have woken up yet, despite his repeated attempts to reach them. None of this would’ve made sense if it weren’t for the context of the situation.

He'd held your shaking hands at the funeral, seen the hollowness of your eyes as they fixed on the casket, probably imagining him lying within it. That’s why he’d always hated funerals. Not only was he starting to feel like he’d been to a few too many of them, but they just felt too much like a mirror, a solemn reminder of his own mortality. Yes, they were a way to help people grieve and to pay your respects and you were supposed to celebrate the deceased’s life, but all he could ever hear was a silent clock ticking down the minutes until it was his turn.

Even though he barely remembered the specifics of what happened, and he was much too young to understand it anyway at the time, he remembered that his dad had been there one minute, and then he was gone forever the next. And then his mom was gone too, and he'd lost friends in the service. He'd even come close to death's door on his own a few times. Loss had been such a huge part of his life, he had forgotten what it was like to fear it.

Until he met you. The thought of losing you was one thing, but the thought of you losing him was worse. That pain had always been a part of him, that gnawing ache of what if. What if they weren't gone, what if I had done more with them while they were here? Losing you was assured to split him in two for the umpteenth time, but he could learn to carry that pain again. The problem was that he refused to be the one who’d inflict that pain upon you. That's why he'd waited so long to let you in. It was a lot to ask of you, expecting you to make peace with the fact that he's willingly putting himself into dangerous situations. And how could he possibly promise to spend his life with you while continually gambling with it on each and every mission?

A familiar voice started to speak in the back of his mind, saying, Just let her go.

No, he couldn’t. If something really was wrong, if you were in danger and he gave up, he’d never be able to live with himself.

Wearing down the tires on his truck, he drove down every city street searching for you, stopping by all of your favorite places even though most weren’t even open yet. But place after place was devoid of all life, and that only made him want to tear the steering wheel in half.

Stopped at a red light near the beach, his foot tapping impatiently on the gas pedal, that was when he heard it.

"Rooster!"

He thought he imagined it, he couldn’t see anyone nearby.

“Rooster!”

Something in the rearview mirror caught his eye, a figure waving their arms some distance behind him. He almost jumped out of the car then and there, leaving it idling at the stoplight, but rationality told him to make a U-turn and park at a lot nearby.

Stumbling over the sand dunes, holding your shoes in your hand, you met him at the top of the beach. He wanted to scream at you because where the fuck had you been and what the fuck were you thinking, but you looked unharmed and really, the most important thing was that he had found you. Besides, what was he supposed to say, Glad you’re okay and by the way, I think we should break up because I’m terrified of what might happen?

Sighing, you spoke first, explaining, “I went for a walk but then I was too tired to walk home so I fell asleep on a bench until a cop woke me up. Sorry.”

All he could do was nod, as if that explanation instantly placated the wasp's nest of anxiety buzzing inside him.

“Can we talk?” he finally asked.

You nodded tiredly. “Can we sit though? I shouldn’t have walked two miles in these shoes.”

Sinking into the sand, he wrapped his arms around his knees, kicking up sand as one of his feet jittered uncontrollably. You sat next to him, picking at the stray grasses that grew in the dune. He’d been the one to initiate this talk, but now his mind was as blank as the cloudless, sunrise-streaked sky.

Don’t think, just do. Just say it.

“On that mission with Mav, he got shot down,” Rooster started, his throat dry from calling out your name for so long. “They told us not to go back for him, but I did. And they shot me down too.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you shake your head. I know, he wanted to say, I’m sorry.

“There’s more.”

“Go on,” you nodded.

“We found a plane and got out of there, but on the way back to the ship, they were on us again. We didn’t have any weapons, couldn’t eject, they had missile lock on us and…” He could still feel the shuddering of the ancient F-14 around him, the dull clicks of the ejection handles as he pulled on them futilely. “There was nothing we could do. If it weren’t for Hangman, then–”

“Hangman is the only reason you’re not dead right now?”

“Yeah." Rooster never thought he’d be indebted to that cocky bastard for anything, but without Hangman, he’d never have come home.

"Huh." It seemed you were just as surprised at this turn of events as he was. The events of that day remained an adrenaline-filled blur in his mind, but the aftermath was painfully clear to him.

"You don’t even have time to think about it, really. My life didn’t flash before my eyes. It was just one second that passed right by and that was it, we were back on the carrier. Like nothing happened. But then yesterday and today…” Despite being firmly seated on the ground, it felt like he was pulling seven Gs, his chest crushing under the weight of his own words before he spoke them. “Dying, if it’s quick, it’s easy. You blink and you’re just gone. But for everyone else, everyone you leave behind, it lasts a lifetime. You die over and over for them, every time they think of you. And I don’t want to do that to you.”

~~~~~~~~~

The strand of grass you’d been wrapping around your finger split, pulled too tightly.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Bradshaw,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry–”

“I love you, but you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle. I decide that.”

You could tell he wanted to argue, to force you out and rebuild his defenses so impossibly high he’d never see the sun again. But you’d made your decision hours ago, before your siesta on that splintery bench.

Staring up at the stars, it was as if something clicked into place inside you. Ancient memories, that was all you had. The present was nothing but a second, over and done with and gone before you knew it. The future was uncontrollable and terrifying. But he was right, memories are with us forever, the good and the bad.

“Your parents. You don’t hate them, do you?”

Rooster almost looked offended at the question. “...No.”

“You don’t curse the fact that you’re their son just because they’re gone, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you think your mom ever regretted the day she met your dad?” Rooster went still at this for a few moments, staring into the waves on the shore. As he shook his head, tears welled over his eyes and he dropped his head to his knees.

“No, she didn’t, because they loved each other,” you answered for him, sniffling, your voice wavering more and more. “And you love them and they loved you and that’s the point of this whole thing. We love each other for as long as we can, even though it might hurt in the end because– Because it lasts a lifetime. It gives us something to hold onto. I’d never regret loving you, Rooster. Not a single moment of it.”

There was more you wanted to say, but your tears were too heavy now. You felt Bradley’s arms around you and you clung to him, his body shaking against yours as you both finally let yourselves cry.

“Just promise me the same,” you said softly.

"I do,” Bradley sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”