#kettle stitch

[bluelakes-whitesnow]

x x x x x x x x x x

[everythingisstardust]

Why is it that the muses always strike right when I'm about to go to bed/suffering from insomnia? I've been planning on using this giant canvas for a tardigrade painting for nearly two months now, and then suddenly, right when I put on my pjs, I actually get the motivation/ inspiration to do it?

Anyway here's the guy half done, gotta wait for the paint to dry. (I'm very bad at that, which is why I love acrylic paint. Very good for my slap-dash methods.)

[dinospork]

made myself a new sketchbook (cause im stranded away from home)

covers are ripped from a 2000s anime fan magazine my gf had lying around

[nodeadfandoms]

[satorusugurugurl]

Can you plssss write jjk men reacting to you spilling boiling water on yourself. Fluff but also smutt.. like y/n quickly takes off her shorts after it gets on her, cause it’s hot…THANK YOUUUU I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🙏🙏

JJK Men: That’s Hot!!

Summary: When you spill boiling water on your pants, the logical thing to do is to take them off!

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru Nanami Kento, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fingering, kissing, smut, difrry talk, unprotected smut, oral smut (F receiving) suggestiveness

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: i freakin’ fell asleep and posted the title, the freaking title! 🤣 anyways! Here’s the full post! Nanami’s had me biting my lip! 😮‍💨

Gojo Satoru:

“Nooo!!” Satoru groaned as the kettle on the stove started to whistle. “I just got comfy!”Your blue-eyed boyfriend looked up from your chest, which he was pressing his face into. “Don't go; you can't just leave me.”

“Toru, it’s ten feet away.”

He pursed his pretty lips together before sighing overdramatically as he pulled himself away from your chest. Maneuvering your way from underneath him while he put all his dead weight on you was a struggle, but you somehow managed to pull out with a huff. Seeing you pull yourself up and off the ground, clearly winded from the effort it took to free yourself, had him smirking.

“Don't look so smug, asshat, or you can find someone else to motorboat.” You watched as Gojo stared at you blankly before pulling his phone out and texting someone. “Who are you texting?” you asked as you entered the kitchen.

“Seeing Suguru is free for motorboating.” You barked out, boating, pulling the whistling kettle off of the stove as Satoru’s phone dinged. “Oooh~ he said he could pencil me in on the twelfth—”

“The twelfth?” you cocked a brow in his direction as you went about preparing your mug and teabag.

Your boyfriend's silence had you peeking up at him as he dropped his long arms over the back of the couch with a pout. “Of never.”

You laughed out loud, from Satoru’s puppy dog eyes to the pout, which was a mistake. It was karma, deciding to act right then instead of making you wait. Being too busy laughing at the apparent suffering of your boyfriend resulted in knocking the mug over. And since you were pressed against the countertop. The second ill boiling water hit your upper thighs in a flash.

A screech left your mouth as you jumped back, thanking some higher power for reminding you to wear shorts. You yanked them down, grimacing as you kicked the slightly steaming fabric away, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Around that same time, Satoru rounded the corner, concerned, stitched into his features, only to be smacked in the face by your discarded shorts.

“Fuck!” you bent over, trying to see the damage the water had done. “Ooh fuck!”

“Hold on!” In a breath, Satoru had you up on the other counter, pushing you back slightly to examine your thighs. “Are you okay?” Long ivory fingers hesitantly moved over the tops of your thighs, searching for any discoloration. Thankfully, he didn't see any burns on your beautiful skin.

With the adrenaline and your heart rate slowing down, you took a deep breath, relieved to know you weren't hurt. You watched as Satoru rubbed his fingers over your sweet, soft skin, massaging his thumbs into the plump flesh of your thighs. You mewled softly, eyes rolling back at his thumbs' slow, tender strokes. How they inched closer and closer towards your panties, and how they went from sweet, gentle touches to hungry, fire-fueled need.

“Satoru,” you softly purred, watching. I think I—mmm!” Your head bowed, your lips parted, as Satoru pushed his thumb up further towards the band of your underwear. “I think that I’m okay.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

His fingers pushed the flimsy fabric of your underwear to the side, toying with your slick folds. The sudden contact had you gasping hands, gripping the edge of the counter as Satoru’s lips down your neck, pressing the fist of touches against your sensitive skin. The feeling of his thumb against your core, your buck your hips against his hand, silently begging for more.

While teasing you would be fun, Satoru was feeling a bit impatient himself. So his skilled thumb moved further up your delicate folds, finding your clit in an instant. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears. His thumb moved up, rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves in teasing strokes, making your nails dig harder into the counter. With each stroke of his skilled thumb, your grip on the counter loosened as the urge to dig into his skin increased.

Seeing how you purse your lips together and how your eyebrows twitch fueled the fire in your boyfriend‘s stomach. A fire he would gladly kindle without any other thoughts. He pulled his hand away before any protest could leave your mouth, two fingers inside of your wet pussy, stretching you out.

“Oh fuck Toru—! Yes! Yes!” You cried out, arching your back against his chest, your eyes going wide as he began moving his fingers in and out of your heat.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” he whojed, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace.

“O-Oh god!” you whimpered as he pumped his fingers faster, his thumb moving up, rubbing your clit once more drawing out cries from you that reverberated off the walls of the kitchen. “Satoru!”

“Fuuck—fuck yes, baby, squeeze down on my fingers, and I’ll make you feel better.”

You were so drunk off his touch, but you did as he said, squeezing around his fingers, eager to see what he had planned to make you feel even better. When Satoru felt your slick walls constrict, he didn’t make you wait any longer. He curled those heavenly fingers up, pressing them right against your g-spot. Your mouth fell open, and your eyes wide as pleasure wrecked your body.

But he didn’t stop there.

Gojo hooked his fingers up and thrust them firmly against the spongy spot. He pressed into it with every jerk of his hand and wrist, pushing you closer to the edge with each stroke inside your walls and against your clit. The dual pleasure finally caused you to release. Your hold on to the cool marble countertop any longer. They quickly moved to his shoulders, which had been a wise decision on your part because the second Gojo felt the sting of your nails in his skin. He lost all control.

He began finger fucking you like a madman. His head dropped forward, teeth digging into your neck before moving up, grazing your ear, smothering the growls that flowed through him like a feral animal that had marked you as prey. Your toes curled, legs squeezing desperately around your boyfriend‘s hand as you roll your hips against him, chasing your release.

You didn’t even need to beg for it because Satori knew your body, and he knew you were close. “You gonna cum baby?” You could nip at your ear, drawing out a wanton and moan from your pretty lips.

“Y-Yes Toru! Pl—please I’m so close!”

“Cum on my fingers, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

Satoru took a step back, watching your face as you rode the waves of pleasure. His fingers were drenched with your slick, making them even easier to move in and out of you. Seeing your release all over his hand awakened a deeper, more primal need within Satoru. He needed to taste you, to be buried inside of you, God he wanted you, bad.

He continued slowly, working his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out the last waves of pleasure that wrecked your body. When your walls stopped constricting around him, you finally allowed yourself to open your eyes, looking up at Satoru, only to notice him looking down where his fingers were still buried inside of you.

“Baby,” you asked, “Baby, you good? Because I’m feeling great.” The sigh you let out was so sultry, so teasing; Gojo’s pretty cerulean eyes snapped up at you.

“Oh, you’re good?”

“Yeah, so good.”

“Oh, that’s great to know.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, moving to grip both your thighs as he carried you back to the couch, plopping you down there. “So good to know because I’m not.”

His reaction had your chest constricting as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “What? Why? Did som—?!” Your string of questions was promptly silenced as Satoru shoved you back onto the couch before lifting his shirt, revealing his toned muscles.

“I was nice and comfy earlier.” His hands reached down, tugging his shorts down just enough to free his cock. “Now you’re gonna make me work to get comfy again.”

“Oh, yeah, I did that, didn’t I?” You purred, spreading your legs, allowing him to press his cock against your entrance with a hiss. “I can only assume it will take a while for you to find that sweet spot.”

“Oh, sweetpea, I’ll find it in record time.”

Nanami Kento:

“Mhmm~” You moaned, eyes rolling back as he licked your lips. “Ooh fuck.” You swallowed happily, glancing up at your husband, smirking back. “Ken~”

“I have perfected it.”

“You have!” You put the spoon you had just used in the sink of warm, sudsy water. “Fuck that Alfredo is perfection!”

Then again, so were the other times he had made it. This time, however, he had gone above and beyond. Maybe it was the brand of Parmesan cheese he had purchased or the butter he browned before adding heavy cream and cheese. But for some odd reason, this was the best Alfredo sauce he had ever made.

Your husband returned his gaze to the simmering pot on the stove. He used the whisk to ensure I didn’t burn at the bottom. He had an almost smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, which was almost uncharacteristic. But the man had a God-given right to be complacent, especially when he made a sauce taste as good as sex. Not only was he the god of cooking himself, but he looked like a sex god on top of that.

He wore a tight-fitting T-shirt, gray sweatpants that left a little to your imagination, and a black apron that hugged him perfectly. Saturday evenings were the best evenings when you decided to stay home to cook. You not only spent time with your husband, but you also had dinner and a show.

“Love, do me a favor and collect some of that boiling pasta water so our noodles won’t stick together.”

“Fuck, I love it when you took culinary science to me.”

“Oh yeah? Does it get my darling wife going?”

You were in the process of scooping boiling water into a mug to set aside. But the sound of your husband calling you, his darling wife, and you biting down on your bottom lip. The same lip that you had gotten busted by a curse on your most recent mission. So when your teeth made contact with your lip, you jolted in pain, dropping the ladle to rub at your mouth and bleeding lip, thus dropping the ladle of hot water all over the front of your shorts.

“Ow!” You cried out in both pain and fear that the boiling water was going to burn your skin. As quickly as it happened, your husband was quicker. He Move the pot of simmering sauce to the back burner, before moving, grabbing one arm around your waist while the other reached down yanking your shorts off.

“Love?! Honey, are you okay?”

You reached down, running your fingers over the top of your thighs, relieved that the hot, boiling water had managed to soak through your shorts and burn your skin. “Yeah! Yeah, I think I’m okay!” You sighed, eyes following the trail of your hands, further confirming that you were, in fact, all right.

“Are you sure? Positive?”

“Yeah, Ken, I’m okay.”

“Because you know, I’ve been taking excellent care of our aloe vera plant, and I don’t mind snipping off one of its leaves for you.”

What had you done to deserve such a sweet and caring man? “Yes, Ken, I'm positive that I’m okay.” You trailed your fingers up his chest. “I’m lucky you’re fast at removing my clothes. Otherwise, I’m not sure if I would be okay.” Your husband glanced down, looking at your bare legs. “I can’t remember the last time you took my pants off that fast. Maybe it was our fourth year at Jujutsu High? We are right when we took our relationship to further levels,” you waggled your brows at him, “and you had just gotten back from a weeklong mission.” Nanami smiled fondly at the memory of your younger days.

“I remember that; I think I had the driver drop me off right in front of your dorm; you kept teasing me through text messages.”

“I didn’t expect you to rip my clothes off of me.”

Nanami chuckled; returning to the stove, he grabbed two oven mitts off the counter, took the boiling pasta to the sink, and drained it into the colander. “I couldn’t help myself back then.” He hummed, shifting the elbow, macaroni, pasta, and colander thoroughly draining out of water.

“Oh, and you’re saying you have more self-control now?”

“Yes, I do.”

You cross your arms over your chest, watching your husband quickly construct the Alfredo chicken casserole he made for dinner. He puts it into a baking pan before adding the sauce and topping it with freshly grated cheese. You had an idea, an idea that requires his hands to be free. You wait until the casserole dish is inside the oven and your husband has removed his apron before licking your lips.

“Ken.”

Honey-brown eyes met yours, and you watched his blonde brow cocked. “Yeah—” his words trail off as he watched you lift your shirt, tossing it to the floor with your wet shorts. “Oh, what do you think you’re doing?” You reached behind, unclasping your bra, allowing it to fall to the ground.

“We need to spice things up and relive a few of our memories.” You see how your husband’s eyes darkened with me at your words. “Now, what was it? I said back then to get you so flustered?” You tap your finger against your chin and faux thought. “ I vaguely remember you being extremely frustrated on that trip. Something to do with Gojo—”

“Please do not bring that idiot up right now.”

It was like nothing had changed.

“Oh, right! You said something along the lines of how you would find a way to destroy Gojo. And I’m pretty sure I said something along the lines of, ‘Why destroy him when you can destroy my pussy instead’? Does that sound right to you?”

Your husband made no signs of confirmation or denial because he was too busy picking you up by your ass, carrying you to the nearest wall he could find. You couldn’t even make a sound of surprise because his lips had a hold of yours so fast he swallowed any moans. Your husband’s fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you so tight. You were certainly going to have bruises later. You hit the back of the wall hard, and Nanami made quick work, ripping the flimsy fabric of your panties off.

“You know exactly what to say to push my buttons, don’t you?” His breath was hot against your lips, leaving you shivering, coding your skin, and making the tiny hair on your arms rise. “You know exactly what to say or how to get me to reminisce; just send me over the edge.”

You listened, and he reached down, wrestling fabric your pussy to throb in anticipation. “Well,” you swallowed hard, “I don’t exactly see you complaining.” Kento scoffed against pulling lips, feeling his twitching, leaking cock rubbing against your entrance.

“I have no complaints aside from one.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

To answer his question, he slammed inside of you, stretching your walls to the point that it was almost painful, but the pleasure overrode the pain as he shoved himself into your deepest parts. Your mouth, fate, eyes wide as he growled against your lips. You stayed still, both of you taking the other in. Your shallow breaths with his deep grunts as he tried to hold himself back. Nanami wanted to savor how you felt around his cock.

And it felt fucking fantastic.

“Oh my god, Ken.” You finally broke the unending silence. “You’re so fucking thick.”

“And you’re so tight; you were made for me. I never want anyone but you. Each time I slide inside of you, I lose myself and everything that is you. Your smell, the sounds you make, and how you grip onto me for life. I fucking love you.”

“I love you t-too—nngh!”

Your last words were cut off with a moan as Nanami slammed himself inside of you. His cock pulled all the way out, the head of his cock snagging on the tight muscles of your entrance before he pushed himself back in further, trying to go deeper than he ever had before. Nanami loved you; every part of him loved you.

And you loved him just as much. You cried out, digging your nails and shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him inside of you, making it hard for him to pull out. Not that he wanted to pull out. Being inside of you was like heaven on earth. If he could get away with staying in bed with you for all of an eternity, he would.

His eyes shut tight as he nipped and sucked at your shoulder, fuck you against the wall like you were nineteen-year-olds again. It was raw, full of passion and need because he remembered that night years ago. No matter how many years passed, you were still as beautiful as the day he asked you out. You both were shy back then. But now, you were fucking crazy for each other.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed, feeling yourself already dangerously close to climaxing. “Oh fuck—fuck, b-babe!” You tried to catch your husband’s attention, but he was so lost in how you felt that he barely heard you. “B-Baby!? I-I’m gonna cum! Oh fuck Kento! I-I’m gonna—!”

Instead of encouraging you or telling you to do it, your husband continued, slamming into the head of his cock, kissing your cervix. It was combined with his teeth, sinking into your skin, and had you cumming around his cock like the good little slut you were. You screamed, tilting your head back as you slid your nails down the back of his T-shirt. And even though there was a fabric between your bodies, Nanami could still feel the sting of your nails against him. That had his hips stilling as he roared into your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed as he came right against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his hot, sticky cum.

“Haaah,” you moaned in a daze, blinking as you dropped your head to look down at Nanami. “K-Kento nngh babe?” Your fingers ran through his silky blonde locks, trying to draw his attention to make sure that he was still, in fact, alive after that intense orgasm. “Honey?” Your question was not ignored. Instead, Nanami snarled again, slamming you down on the kitchen table towering above. “Ahh!” You squealed, laughing loudly as Nanami’s fierce, lust-filled eyes glanced at the clock on the stove.

“I have you for the next twenty minutes. I’m going to fuck your brains out; then we’re going to lay on the sofa, completely naked, wrapped in a blanket, while we have dinner. Giving you more than enough time to regain some form of composure before I take you in the shower and I fuck you so hard you’re going to have to call out sick.”

“H-Holy fuck Kento!? What’s gotten into you?”

You watched with wide eyes as your husband reached down, grabbing his shirt with one hand and ripping it over his head. “Love, nothing’s gotten into me other than just how much I love you.”

Geto Suguru:

“I’m home!” Geto announced as he entered your shared apartment. His eyes roamed, searching for any signs of the girls or you. But there was no nefarious giggles to be heard or that of chitchat her from the living room. “Anybody ho—?”

The sound of a pot being dropped rang out from the kitchen. “Oow!!” That was the sound of your voice.

Without hesitation, Geto rounded the corner just in time to watch you shimmy out of your shorts. He blinked at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. An empty saucepan, which most likely contained water, rolled on the floor, the liquid spreading out against the tile. You danced on your tiptoes, avoiding the hot water as best you could while trying to undress yourself from the bottom down.

While you were dancing around, Geto noticed you weren’t wearing any panties, which wasn’t unusual considering you had been at home all day. It was a lovely sight to come home to see. Usually, it would be if you weren’t currently jumping around steaming hot water.

“Hey! Hold on!” Geto scolded as he noticed your toes inching too close to the water. “Wait right there!”

A flash of dark hair crossed your peripheral vision before you were scooped up into big, strong arms and carried to the living room, away from the dangerous water. “T-Thanks.” You gasped, leaning against the couch and sinking into its plush cushions.

“What were you doing?”

“Well,” you sighed, glancing down at your boyfriend, who was crouched on the floor in front of you, his hands resting against yours, dark eyes watching you very closely, eagerly awaiting to see what you had to say. “I saw this video on TikTok.”

“Oh my god, you and the girls’ obsession with TikTok.”

“Stop it; it’s something that we can bond over.” You sighed, Running a hand down your face. “Anyways, I saw a video for this adorable cat jello mold, so obviously, I bought it, and I was planning on making the super cute cat for dessert tonight, but I don’t think I had the pan on the stove all the way because I was uh—-I was a little distracted.”

“Let me guess.” Suguru smirked, “Watching more TikTok’s?”

“That point is irrelevant, but in my distraction, I didn’t notice the pan was on the stove all the way, so the handle got too hot. When I grabbed it, I freaked out and tried to put it back on the stove, only to end up spilling some of the water on myself.”

Suguru’s eyes shut down towards your bare thighs. “So that explains the impromptu show I got to see.” You reached out, smacking his upper arm with a pout, and he laughed at your pretty pout as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry baby, you’re not hurt, right?” As if to answer his question, you ran your hands down your legs, searching for any source spots or visible burns on your skin.

“No, I don’t think so.”

His fingers followed the same traces your fingers made; only heat followed his touch. “You sure?” He coaxed, eyes leaving your face to focus on your skin. “Because I think—I see a mark right here.” You watched with curious eyes as his fingers traced over skin that had no visible mark or resulted in pain under his touch.

“I think it’s fin—”

“I’ll kiss it better.” He interrupted, head dipping down to press chaste kisses against the top of your thigh. You gasped at the sudden touch of his lips against your bare skin. “Oh, and would you look at that?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head as his hands found another ‘sore spot.’ “My poor baby, you’re hurt here too.”

His fingers and lips continue to find little marks all over your legs from the top of your thighs down to your kneecap before slowly working his mouth down your calf to your ankle. By the time his eyes lined up, meeting your half-lidded gaze, he gave you a cocky smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was something about teasing you to the point that you could no longer handle it, which always made him feral. He loved to get you so worked up you squirming underneath him.

Usually, on nights like this, when the girls are going to be home soon, he would work you up so that when they finally went to bed, you both were alone and in the comfort of your room. He could take his time and make up for all of the teasing. Suguru wanted you begging for him before the night was over. Only this time is going to be a bit different. The girls were staying with Tsumiki at Gojo’s house for a sleepover. Meaning the two of you had the whole apartment for yourselves.

So when Geto reached your ankle, he was about to pull away to go about changing and relaxing with you on the couch. Before he had a chance to move, you reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back down to his knees on the ground before you. Your boyfriend blinked, eyeing you skeptically, waiting to hear what you had to say.

“You missed a spot.” Suguru watched as you spread your legs wide open for him, giving him a wonderful view of your slick, wet pussy. “Right—“ He choked on his saliva as you reached down, using your fingers to spread open your lips, revealing your entrance to him that throbbed with need. “Here.”

Suguru had no idea it was possible for words to go straight to his cock, below, and behold, here he was. His dick was hard enough, just teasing. From feeling your legs tremble underneath his lips to hearing the soft little sound from the back of your throat. For you spread yourself like that on full display made his dick hurt so hard it fucking hurt.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe for him to tease you a little more or to tell you to wait. You would excitedly tell him that you two had the apartment to yourselves and that there was no risk of anyone interrupting you. Suguru never gave you the chance to say any of those thoughts. After his brain had a second to process what you were showing him, the man sat back on his heels and took his half-up bun down. As soon as those dark strands of hair were free, Suguru collected all his long, luscious, shiny hair in one hand and tied it into a messy bun.

You gawked at the man in front of you, opening and closing your mouth before Suguru grabbed your hips with both his hands and yanked you to the edge of the couch. You inhaled sharply as you fell back, lifting your head just in time to watch as your boyfriend shoved his face between your thighs, tongue dipping inside of your twitching cum. He wasted no time and went straight to work., tongue, laughing at your click before slowly sliding down your slit to your entrance, where he teased your twitching hole with the tip of his tongue before slowly sliding it back up, swirling circles around your clit.

“Nngh! H-holy fuck!”

“Mmm~ how careless of me.” Suguru breathed out heavily against your swollen, sensitive clit. “How could I forget to kiss this better~?”

“S-Sugu!” Your back arched off the couch as his tongue kitten licked your clit. “Oh-Oooh fuck!”

The feeling of his tongue sliding inside of you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You inhaled with a sharp gasp, your hand reaching down and digging into the dark strands of hair mostly tied into a top knot on his head. He growled into your sex, his tongue brushing over your click as he increased the pressure of his hold on your hips, drawing you closer to his mouth, which was seemingly impossible from how close you were to him. But if there was a will, there was a way.

Even if that way involved you grinding your hips over your boyfriend’s face, something he gladly encouraged. If you were to stop jerking your hips forward, you were sure you would continue to do so because of the way your boyfriend’s arms moved, rolling you and time with your thrusts; you knew this was what he wanted. To eat you out like a wild animal, to lose himself entirely in your juices, the scent of you, the sweet, tangy taste that coated his tongue.

Suguru moaned, his eyes growing darker with every stroke of his tongue over your walls. Those same dark eyes were transfixed with your face; his ears focused on you, everything you said, how you begged him to swirl his tongue, or how you wanted him to lap eagerly at your g-spot. If that were something you wanted, it would be something he would gladly give.

“Mmm!” He snarled against your sensitive Clint as he ground your hips harder against his face. His eyes never left yours as he tasted you in the most intimate way he could.

Seeing him so desperate, so hungry for you, had you losing all of your control. You pulled and tongue out his hair as hard as you could, ride his tongue like your own personal fuck toy. Suguru, he loved it. Seeing you lose control over yourself, over every ounce of power that you usually held onto, had him reaching down, pulling his cock out so he could stroke it in time with his tongue while his thumb idly rubbed circles and hearts over your clit.

“C-Cummin’ Sugu! I-I’m cummin’ oooh fuck!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as your juices squirted out, coating his lips, chin, and face with your release. You were so lost in your orgasm. You barely noticed the granted pleasure that emanated from between your thighs. That sound was a sound you were very accustomed to; it was the sound of your boyfriend cumming all over his hand.

“Mmm, fuck.” Suguru grunted against your pussy before he pressed a gentle kiss against it. “You taste so good.”

“Mm.” You whispered, slowly sitting up, ignoring the dizzy spell that followed your movements after the strength of your orgasm.

“You taste so good, Princess~” You hummed against, slowly sliding off the couch to straddle your boyfriend’s hips, his softening cock gently twitching back to life. “Hey~? What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saying thank you.”

Suguru learned back, slowly smirking as he eyed you. “Oh~? And just how do you plan on that king me?” He pursed his lips together watching you closely.

“The girls aren't going to be home this weekend, so I think I’m going to ride you all night.”

Suguru slowly blinked jaw falling open. “Wait what?” a sinister little smile graced your lips as you began slowly rocking your hips again at him.

“I'm going to make sure to thoroughly thank you~ for taking such good care of me.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[cryingpariah]

Janice when she’s in mortal danger:

WE BACK‼️‼️

And it’s Janice time dare I say ;)

- What is Janice's relationship with the secret CP9 agents pre-reveal (cause obviously she’d hate them post) I’m curious if she particularly close to any of them

- Can Janice fight (does she have any experience with fighting/violence? Is she good at it? Does she enjoy the experience or hate it?)

- Does Janice have a DF? If so, what is it and how does it work? If not, what would be an ideal fruit for her?

HELLOOOO!!!!

i dont think janice had very close relationships with any of the cp9 members tbh. she wouldve found lucci annoying and a vibe killer LMFAO. she woulda liked kaku a normal amount i think. she probably didnt hang out with him or anything but i could see them exchanging greetings :3

kalifa would probably be the closest to her simply because they both follow iceburg around a lot. they wouldnt be besties by any means (theyre very different people lol)but i could see them having some good conversations during down time. i also think it would be very funny if janice picked up the habit of responding "sexual harrassment." to iceburg in unison with kalifa. she likes watching iceburgs disappointment grow ♡

janice absolutely CANNOT fight. shell threaten you with some knitting needles, and i suppose in a pinch she could use them, but shed really rather not. if anything, her main defense would be throwing whatevers nearest to her and running away. i do like the idea of one of the cp9 members trying to attack her assuming she cant defend herself just for her to produce a sharp ass knitting needle from her sleeve and stab them with it. it wouldnt save her from those scary ass ppl but at least she fought back right?

she does not have a df! shes painfully normal LMFAO

if i had to pick a fruit for her id probably go with a zoan of some kind. i think it would be really neat for her to turn into an animal :3 maybe a ferret? she has ferret vibes. im curious to hear what youd pick for her!!!

[peachsukii]

stitched muses ꒰ tangled hearts series - kiribaku x fem!reader ꒱ ⇢ bakugo's stumped on inspiration for his upcoming fashion line, the deadline fast approaching as he's working day and night to meet it. he's frustrated at his lack of ideas, stuck in his home office while you and kirishima are enjoying your weekly movie night. he's pacing the house, putting too much pressure on himself to excel. little did you know you'd be the solution to his temporary dead-end creativity.

꒰ content ꒱ bakugo's a grumpy goose, fluffy domestic goodness, bakugo has that little "eureka!" moment, kirishima is cute & cuddly, mitsuki asks reader to lunch cross posted to ao3 // wc; ~1.4k ✿ tangled hearts masterlist ✿ ↶ | previous entry (sweet like honey) ↷ | next entry (one-way ticket)

The rain pattered against the Bakugo-Kirishima household, echoing as the droplets bounced of the roof in an off beat rhythm. Spring has truly sprung, the rainy season coming in full force over the course of the week.

“Goddammit!”

Bakugo’s frustration traveled from his office and through out the house, accompanied by the sound of his chair forcefully retreating from his desk. He despised the rain, the miserable storm only adding an unnecessary layer of irritation to his long work day. He trudged out of his office, shoulders slumped as he makes his way into the kitchen.

Kirishima and yourself are sitting on the living room couch, snuggled under a blanket and watching a romcom on tv for your weekly movie night. Bakugo was supposed to join you two, but he’s been shackled to his laptop all day long. He’d step away for a minute, thinking he could take a break, and then shuffle right back to his desk to pace like a caged animal.

“I’m gonna check on him,” you whisper to Kirishima, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as you peel the blanket from your lap.

Sauntering into the kitchen, you see Bakugo making himself tea, silently staring at the countertop and tapping his fingers against the laminate. His gaze shifts sluggishly from the tea kettle to you when you approach his side.

“Hey sweetheart,” he sighs, turning to pull you into his chest. “Sorry for workin’ late. I know you and Ei have been waitin’ for me.”

“It’s okay, Kats, we know you're working hard. Here,” You break away from his embrace and take his mug from the counter, using your hip to playfully bump him out of your way. “Let me finish this and make you something to eat.”

"S'fine, baby, I can—"

"Katsuki," you interrupt sternly, followed by a sweet smile to soften the bite in your tone. "I made dinner for all of us earlier, I'll get you a plate with your tea and bring it to you."

Bakugo grumbles under his breath, not having it in him to fight your stubbornness. He leans down and meets your lips for a brief kiss before moving to the living room, hovering behind the couch for a moment.

"Hey babe," Kirishima says, flashing his toothy grin backwards toward him. "Try and call it a night soon, yeah?"

Bakugo bends over the couch, cradling Kirishima’s jaw in his hands and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “M’tryin’. This deadline is killing me.”

“Mom hounding ya again?”

Hearing Kirishima call Mitsuki “mom” made your heart flutter from the kitchen, such a simple sentiment making you melt. Watching your boyfriend’s love for one another naturally flow will never get old, even though they’ve been married for years, it still was new to you to witness casually.

Bakugo rolls his eyes. “She’s been bitchin’ at me all week.”

“She loves ya and knows she can push your buttons to get you to succeed,” Kirishima assures, kissing the tip of Bakugo’s nose. “Anythin’ we can do to help?”

He releases Kirishima’s face from his grasp and steps back from the couch, shaking his head with a frown on his face. “Unless you suddenly have a knack for fabric and textiles, don’t think so.”

You round the corner of the island in the kitchen, a plate in one hand and cup of hot tea in the other, making your way to Bakugo’s office. Kirishima sighs contently as he watches your silhouette disappear down the hallway.

“That woman is a damn goddess,” he swoons, deflating back into the couch cushions. “Go eat and wrap up. We can start another movie when you're done.”

Bakugo nods his head and turns to head back to the office. He peers in the doorway to find you mesmerized by the designs scattered across his desk - multiple sketches of clothes, scribbled notes about fabric choices and design suggestions on every page. You glance toward the door, catching him staring.

"These all look great, love. What's got you stumped?" you ponder aloud while organizing the papers back into their proper piles.

Bakugo crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "It's too bland, shit's been done a thousand times. Need somethin' that'll be versatile."

"Maybe you're thinking too much into it."

He blankly stares at you for a moment - you can see the wheels turning in his head while he processes your statement.

"...Do y'know who you're talking to?"

You can't help but laugh, walking around his desk and to the doorway. "I do, hotshot. You're an incredible designer, but not everything needs to be fashion week quality. Most people would just walk around in a t-shirt if they had the option."

Something in his mind clicks the moment you mention 't-shirt,' immediately sending him bolting upstairs and to the bedroom without another word. Bakugo comes barreling back down the stairs with a few t-shirts in hand moments later, tossing all but one onto the back of his office chair.

"Strip," he demands, hands on his hips impatiently.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, but discard your sleep shirt and sweatpants as ordered. Once you do, he shoves the shirt he grabbed over your head, threading your arms through the sleeves and taking a step back to analyze it in full.

"...this is one of your shirts? What does that—"

"Gimmie a sec to think."

The t-shirt is worn out, heavily loved over the years with a faded band logo over the chest and spotted with bleach stains. It was slightly too big for you, cascading over your figure and ending around your mid-thigh area.

Bakugo clicks his tongue while pushing up his glasses back into place. "Turn around."

You obey, turning your back to him. He cinches the back of the shirt with one hand and pulls at the hem by your thigh with the other, as if he's fitting you into his imaginary garment.

"Think ya just solved my problem, sweets," Bakugo says with excitement, letting the t-shirt fall back into its natural state before scooting past you and sliding into his office chair. He turns to the screen, opening a new e-mail and begins furiously typing, paragraphs flowing from his fingers in the matter of minutes.

"Don't forget your dinner and tea," you remind him, turning on your heel to head back to the living room. "I'll leave you be."

"Don't let Ei finish the popcorn without me."

Returning to the couch, you plop down next to Kirishima and fold your head into his lap. He looks at the shirt your wearing, noticing it's definitely not the one you were in 15 minutes ago. And that you're not wearing pants.

"Ah, so he needed that kinda motivation," he snickers, ruffling a hand through your hair.

You chuckle and wiggle in his lap. "No babe, not this time. He should be done soon."

Half an hour later, Bakugo comes into the living room, sighing dramatically as he falls onto the couch, head landing on Kirishima's thighs.

"Made it with three days to spare," he rasps, putting up a victory fist with exhaustion. "Ma approved it, too. S'goin' to be expedited to production tomorrow."

"Way to go, superstar!" You exclaim, bending down to kiss his forehead. "Knew you could do it."

"Good work, Kats! What did you end up going with?" Kirishima asks, a hand massaging Bakugo's shoulder to help him relax.

"She was right, I was thinkin' too hard about it. You'll see it when it's released next month."

"Aw, you're not even gonna tell us after all that?!"

Bakugo snickers, turning to face the TV. "Nah, you two can wait like everyone else. S'nothin' out of this world, but I'm proud of it."

───

Later that night, your phone pings a few times with multiple messages while you're getting ready for bed back in your apartment - they're from Mitsuki.

How did she even get your number?

"Hey sweetie, it's Mitsuki. Thanks for being patient with my brat. Even at 30 he's still a pain in the ass sometimes! He's lucky to have one, let alone two, people tolerate him long enough to stick around." "Are you free for lunch sometime? I'd love to get to know you better. Katsuki and Eijiro talk about you a lot."

Mitsuki wants to meet for lunch? You've met her a handful of times, but she doesn't...know about you guys yet.

Right?

You respond with a simple "Sure, I'd love to!" and leave it at that.

You're not sure why, but there's a bundle of nerves knotting in your stomach over the thought of having to impress Katsuki's mother.

No, it's not like that...yet.

mitsuki's always been perceptive...you think she knows about you and the boys? and what'll happen when you celebrate katsuki's new fashion line with friends in a few weeks and you tag along? 😉 ⇢  wildflowers; @maddietries @smolbeanzzz @camila2201 @lik0 @pixel4ffecti0n @moonlight-dreamer04 @lumi-cent @pastelbakugou @hannahk @camryn-ciel67 @c4prisuna @perfectsukii @screechingpeachdelusion @lightsgore @cuntpiercedprincess @aphrodite-xoxo

[nopefer-art-tu]

The Sky Above, by @mediumorange

I am SO excited to finally share this project with everyone!! Way back in the fall of 2023 I embarked on my first foray into bookbinding, and I thought, what better work to start this hobby off on than with one of the greatest works the Brokeback Mountain fansphere has to offer, written by my dear friend Emily?

And so began my year-long journey with this work, haha.

The book is a square back bradel style binding, covered in turquoise bookcloth. I used a kettle stitch to sew the textblock, and then Lineco-brand PVA glue as the adhesive for everything that needed to be adhered.

While I'm proud of the entire book, I have to admit the thing that I'm most proud of is the cover design.

To make a long story short, I wanted to find a way to make fully illustrated covers on bookcloth, and most of the popular methods of cover design that I had seen were all very limiting for me as an artist to do the things I wanted to do. Thus much of the time I spent making this book went into deep-diving into the world of textile design and ink transfer methods.

In my research, I discovered these types of toner sheets called Direct-to-Film (DTF, lol) transfers. Basically, you can print any design you want at most any size using the full range of the CYMK color spectrum + black + white, then you use a heat press to transfer the design onto your fabric et voila: your design is embedded into the textile.

Because neither the Renegade Bindery discord nor the bookbinder reddit groups really knew what I was talking about when I asked if anyone had ever tried this method out, I put my little rodent ears on and became the guineapig lol.

The first practice attempts I made at this came out tentatively successful, and when I tried it again for the real cover, it came out perfect. I'm still floored by the results tbh. This is such a game changer and I hope more binders can utilize direct-to-film transfers in the future!

Anyways, I really hope you love your belated birthday gift as much as I loved making it, Emily 🥰 Thank you for sharing your talents with such a small fandom sphere, and I can't wait to bind more of your works in the future!!

Editing by me

Typesetting by me

Binding by me

Art by me

[mrghostrat]

the tiniest kettle stitch 🥹

yall said to made an actual book for my test cover, so, fuck it. it’s getting the full treatment

[devildomwriter]

Jolly Old St Nick | Solomon x Reader

1.2K Word Count | GN! Reader | Fluff, Humor | CW: none? Magic shenanigans

You’d never been so relaxed while in such a crowded place. You held Solomon’s hand tightly as he slowly walked from booth to booth at the Christmas market.

When Solomon called you away on business, he’d done so specifically to stop the brothers from following you on what was actually a surprise date.

You like Solomon so you didn’t mind the surprise date but you were shocked at how good of a job he’d done choosing locations.

A world-famous Christmas market hadn’t been your first idea for a holiday-timed date but he was fully prepared to buy you anything that caught your attention so you weren’t complaining about the crowds.

“Look, ___, they’re making candy canes,” he pointed out the booth next to you and you stood on your tip-toes to sneak a look as the sugar was poured into the molds.

“Are they all made like that?” You asked aloud and he proceeded to give you a more in-depth explanation than you were expecting. Even the booth owner looked shocked by his expertise and appeared to quickly be taking notes on his phone.

You pulled Solomon away from the candy canes after he bought a few to a booth with glass blowers who were making custom Christmas ornaments.

“Blowing glass art, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen anyone do it. It’s still as incredible as it was thousands of years ago,” he sighed nostalgically and got a few curious looks.

You gave him a cautious look and he laughed and patted your back. “Ah, there’s no need to worry now. No one would believe me anyway.” He made a valid point so you decided to have fun with it instead.

“Did you ever meet Saint Nick?” You asked him as you clutched the paper bag with your glass ornaments.

Solomon laughed and stopped walking, “would you believe me if I told you I am him.”

You ran into somebody in Sienese and dropped your delicate bag. “Oh!”

Solomon quickly caught it before it hit the icy stone path. You breathed a sigh of relief and he chose to hold onto it instead. A wise decision from the wise king himself.

“There’s no way. You just snuck into people’s houses and gave them stuff?”

“Well, sort of. I’m certainly not the only one who did something like that but when I came into my power more I experimented with it a little and tried teleporting small things. Every so often if I overheard a family wasn’t doing well, their child especially, I’d place something small and fun in their drying clothes.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So…you’re a king of ancient times, a sorcerer, and Santa Clause? All in one, huh?”

Solomon laughed it off and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ancient…”

“That’s the part you disagree with?”

You laughed at Solomon and you both continued through the Christmas market. You found a few cute items for everyone. A hand-stitched angel ornament that reminded you of Luke, a hand-carved wooden cow from a nativity scene (Belphegor didn’t need to know that part), an antique metallic Christmas tree from a fad decades past, and a fancy leather belt you thought would be perfect for Thirteen.

Solomon found a booth with kettle corn and immediately purchased some while you found a free bench. As soon as you sat down a distraught woman sat next to you on the phone while the kid held onto her leg looking like they’d cried for a long time.

You knew it wasn’t your business but as soon as she hung up the phone you had to pry. Just to see if you could help them.

“I’m sorry for intruding but…is something wrong?” You asked.

The mom looked slightly annoyed to be asked as she’d been through enough but the child quickly fessed up. “My doggy,” he trembled and his mother quickly picked him up and sat him in her lap to coddle him.

“Did your doggy go missing?” You asked as Solomon approached you from behind.

“Oh dear, did he?” Solomon asked with a frown.

The mother shook her head. “It’s his stuffed animal. I told him not to bring it,” she began but the indication it was his fault brought a wave of tears from the young child so she stopped herself.

You thought about it for a moment and looked at Solomon who nodded with a similar idea. “Do you have a picture?”

The mother shook her head, “It’s okay. Really,” she dismissed but you shook your head.

“I happen to be a private investigator, mam. I’m pretty good at finding things. If you hand a picture, I promise you’ll have that dog back in the hour.”

She looked horrified you’d made such a promise with her son in earshot but Solomon nodded confirming the same thing.

Reluctantly she took out her phone and found a picture. The dog appeared to be handmade and well-loved.

You nodded and took off into the crowd with Solomon to keep an eye on the woman.

After searching for a while using a tracking spell you had no luck so you texted Solomon for help. He sent you a laughing emoji which frustrated you and then sent you a spell you hadn’t tried before and asked you to recite it out of sight.

You slipped away into a dark alley behind some booths and recited the spell with the stuffed animal in mind and it materialized in front of you. You gasped and caught it before it hit the ground.

It was identical to the photo. You weren’t sure if you summoned it or made it but either way, you knew a little boy was about to be very happy.

You quickly rushed back to the bench and the mother’s eyes widened when she saw you.

The little boy sprang free from her arms and ran to you to quickly hug his beloved stuffed dog.

“You actually found it!” The mother gasped and looked teary-eyed. “I can’t thank you enough. What do I owe you?”

You shook your head, “I’m Santa’s helper, Mam, I find kids their toys for free, it’s part of my job.”

Suddenly you heard a laugh from Solomon and gave him a puzzled look.

“Time to go,” he said quickly and you walked his way as a man called out to the mother and son.

“Honey I found the dog, it was by the vending machine still—huh?”

The family looked at the dog in the dad’s hands to the one in the boys and to you and Solomon smiling like nothing weird just happened.

“How did you…this dog was hand-made by my mother…she died last year…” The woman was too shocked to say more and her husband stood there silently bewildered.

“Umm…merry Christmas from Saint Nick!” you said and grabbed Solomon’s hand running away as quickly as you could as he laughed loudly.

“Shut up Solomon! Didn’t that break some kind of rule!?” You exclaimed and he shook his head.

“Who cares? You magically created the exact toy a child wanted. I think that makes you a st nick just like me,” he chucked and you rolled your eyes.

“Give me the scarf. I want to look around more but now I need to hide my face.”

Solomon continued to laugh at you the rest of your date at the Christmas market.

Sure enough, the story of the two stuffed dogs made it to the local news as a Christmas miracle from one of Santa’s mysterious helpers.

[newyearseve1979]

Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt

Or, Lilia and Alice spend some time together.

Content warnings, brief mentions of death and grief, allusions and mentions of malicious drug use. It’s pretty tame, generally

Lilia stared at the boiling teapot. The stove glowed gently under it, the sun lit up its shiny metal surface, but the water itself seemed unchangeable. If her stare bore into the kettle hard enough, the water would boil faster (or something like that.) “You could just use magic,” Alice said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her hair was still messy from sleep and the orangish red streaks in her hair definitely needed re-done. She had an old Le Tigre band shirt on. Lilia vaguely remembered going to one of their concerts.

“It's the little routines that keep a girl together,” Lilia shrugged.

Alice nodded, smiling. She could appreciate the sentiment.

Lilia’s own robe was burnt orange and one of softest things she owned. Sun streamed through the window, lighting up the spacious kitchen. It was a far cry from her old apartment, Lilia knew, and she wouldn't have been able to afford it without the rest of the witches. After the road, after she’d fallen, she’d been stuck in a weird kind of Limbo. Alice had been there too, but that's all they could remember. Turns out the road had been made up so they didn't really die, even though Rio has still arrived to take them to that little inbetween world. Lilia didn't want to think too hard on that, because they’d gotten out when Jen completed her trial. What mattered was that she and her fuck ass coven (as described by Lilia herself) had bought a house together, roughly an hour’s drive out of East View, in the woods. It was close enough to other people for the working witches to keep up with their lives, and far enough away for Agatha to… what was she up to again? While the two waking witches assumed everyone else was asleep, Agatha had already gone out for a walk in the woods before the sun rose.

The teapot whistled, and Lilia took it off the stove. Alice had already set out two mugs and the honey pot. The house was quiet. Lilia and Alice were the only ones in the kitchen, and since it was a Sunday, no one had work. Not that there was much to do; Jennifer’s business was largely remote until she felt like returning to her shop, and Alice was still on the job hunt. Agatha was… well Lilia didn't need to touch that until she felt like it.

The quiet was interrupted by the music Alice had switched on. Bikini Kill, Lilia recognized it, Reject all America. “Good band,” she said, turning off the stove and mixing honey into her cup. Alice only looked slightly surprised. “I saw them live a few times.”

To Alice’s credit, she didn't let her jaw fall all the way down. “You Lilia? Really?”

Lilia smiled to herself. “Oh yeah,” she pointed at Alice’s shirt, “them too.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!” Lilia insisted, amused. She hugged her soft rope close, and sipped on her tea. Riot Grrrl had attracted plenty of witches in her area, and yeah, Lilia had been pretty into it. Alice shook her head, still smiling.

“I'm trying to picture you at a punk concert.”

Lilia rolled her eyes. She thought about a time when she’d straightened her hair and her old thrifted jacket. “Get me that leather jacket of yours, doll,” She smiled. Memories of stitching protection runes into the inside of her jacket came back to her. “I'll try it on and that’ll give you a pretty good picture.”

Alice gave Lilia a once over. Her robe was snug and secure, her curly hair was piled on her head, and an amulet hung from her neck. Lilia looked like a classy broadway star, not a Riot Grrrl fan. Still, she could almost picture it. Lilia with a shaggy haircut, leather jacket, and punk shirts, cursing out some moron. “Come on, don't tell me you think I'm too old,” Lilia huffed, half kidding.

Alice waved her off. “I’d sneak into concerts when I was younger. My um, well you know my mom died when I was thirteen? I wanna say that was the same time the movement was getting traction.”

Lilia nodded. “The years blended together for me after a bit. All my big losses happened -oh god- forever ago.” She finished her tea and put the cup in the sink. “How long did you keep up with it?”

Alice hummed, and hugged herself. “Till college. It kind of fell off a bit after I graduated you know? But freshman year was intense. I dated this girl who I thought was big into Team Dresch, so we’d gone to a few concerts. Turns out she’d been more into the story about my mom. That wasn't the whole reason we stopped going out though. But the movement had been this part of my life, in a massive way after mom died. She’d made sure music was always important to my life. I needed away from the magic shit, and it was a good place to be angry. I really needed to be angry; you know I stayed that way for a long time.

But after a few years, when I'd put in my old cd’s and records all I could think of was how… upset I was as a teenager. You know I didn’t deal with my grief until recently, so, I guess that’s something else. ” Lilia watched Alice, nodding at the right times. She definitely knew. She wasn't about to forget Alice’s trial on the road, or what she’d said later.

“Sad is better than angry.”

Alice’s head was tilted down, but Lilia saw her eyes getting misty. She moved over to Alice’s side of the kitchen. She put a hand on her shoulder. “I got back into it recently,” Alice added, "the music. It's way easier to find the old music on the internet, especially when Jen pays for my subscription.” Lilia knew what she meant; she was also on the plan.

“Well I don't know how to tell you this, but punk attracts all kinds of outcasts, witches included. Even if they tended to uplift white middle class girls over other groups.” Lilia patted Alice’s arm before stepping back again. “Trust me doll, you were where you needed to be.” The speaker had switched over to Dyke March by Le Tigre. Their singer was the same one from Bikini Kill. “I met her once,” Lilia mused, tapping on the speaker,“Kathleen Hanna.”

Alice wiped at her face. It was early enough that she hadn't put on her usual makeup yet. “Yeah? Do you think she remembers you?”

She chuckled. “No, probably not. But I know she’s touring right now with Bikini Kill again.”

“I saw that.”

Lilia didn't hesitate. “We should go see them. Tonight. They’ve got Eastview stadium for the week, and it's cheapest tonight.”

“Lilia Calderu is inviting me to a punk concert?”

“Lilia Calder is offended at this disbelief,” Lilia huffed, “you know twenty years ago I was getting more comments about my age when I was getting pins and patches than I bet your thirteen year old ass was. Compared to me, you’re practically a child. I should be asking if it's past your bedtime.”

Alice swatted Lilia’s arm. “You’ve been around Harkness too much.” Lilia shrugged. The pair made plans to go to a punk concert once the sun went down.

That evening, Lilia went through the boxes in her room that she still hadn't unpacked. “I know where it all is, there's no point in reorganizing!” She’d say, but it was really because part of her still wasn't certain the roommate situation would last. Either way, she found some dark, flowy clothes that were probably more Stevie Nicks than anything, but honestly, who was going to care. Lilia dug around for a few protection rings; the ones she always took, and the few extras she took to this kind of scene because she’d been around long enough to see some messed up shit.

A vision flashed to Lilia. Crowded room, packed venue. Sweaty bodies pushing her around. Someone yelling, Piss off Lilia! And harsh hands jerking her to the side. Too loud, too loud, too loud, so loud that it blurred her vision. She swayed. She dropped her drink; the mussels in her hand betrayed her. Was it the crowd or was it- no shit shit not again. When is this? Last time-

“Lilia!” Soft hands shook her gently, and Lilia put her own up in self defense, pushing back against a pink clad body. Soft hands held her in place as she pushed, letting Lilia have something to physically resist.. She found herself sitting, then, black skirts piling around her, grey curls falling in front of her face. Lilia was coming back to herself when Jen said her name again. “Hey? Kooky?” Lila looked around. She'd knocked over the box she’d been rifling through. Bobbles scattered around the floor, thrown about like whatever timeline was trying to speak to Lilia. Alice stood in the doorway. Lilia’s brow produced little beads of sweat as she tried to determine if she’d visited a vision or a memory. Jen nudged her again. “Lilia?”

Lilia shrugged Jen off. She rubbed her temple. “I just…”

“You went away for a minute,” Jen nodded. She tilted her head, with a rare Kale smile. “Anywhere good?” Definitely not.

Lilia chuckled dryly, using Jen to help her to her feet. “Somewhere loud.” She looked over at Alice. “You look… concert ready.” She nodded approvingly. Alice’s orange streaks had been re-dyed, with the help of Jen earlier that day. Her outfit was pretty close to what she wore the first time Lilia had met her. Only this time, it was a slightly different jacket with a list of different feminist punk bands painted onto the back. Her makeup was a bit bigger too. She tossed Lilia a pair of ear plugs.

“We’re good to head out in ten?”

“Give me twenty,” Lilia said. It wasn't a question. Alice nodded and went back downstairs. Jen smoothed out the shirt on Lilia’s shoulders. Then she went over and sat on Lilia’s bed. Lilia settled herself into a plush chair she’d picked up back in Vienna, right in front of her mirror.

“Where did you go this time?” Jen asked when Lilia didn't ask her to leave.

Lilia pursed her lips. “A concert.” She flexed her hands in front of her face. They did not fail her as she applied lipstick and mascara, or when she clasped talismans around her neck and wrists. They would not fail her again, and they hadn’t that night. It had been a close call, Lilia remembered, but that's all. She didn't tell Jen and Jen didn’t push. Oddly, she’d stopped pushing since the trial. But she had started watching Lilia. She’d stay in the same room a little longer, stay up a little later, all little things Lilia noticed, but wouldn't ask about yet. What right did she have to anyway, to tell her to leave. Not after she sent Jen down the road without her, and Lilia knew that.

Alice had the car running and music already playing. “What’s this?” Lilia asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Mommy Long-Legs,” Alice smiled. They pulled out of the wider part of the driveway and started down the road that wasn't necessarily a private road, but might as well have been because of how long it was, and the fact that there were only two houses on it, both perfectly crafted for woodland semi-isolation. As far as Lilia knew, their neighboring building was largely uninhabited. She’d never seen it though, as it was hidden so far back that the trees blended together into black before you could hope to see a house.

“What else do you listen to?” Alice asked, breaking Lilia from her thoughts.

Lilia hummed. “Jazz, older Italian songs, but seventies and eighties rock was a pretty good time for music too, I suppose. Stevie Nicks is wonderful.”

“Mom performed with her and Fleetwood Mac.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I was pretty young, but I remembered it being a huge deal.”

“I remember that,” Lilia reminisced, “that was a good show.”

They got themselves out of the woods and started driving along a series of fields. Houses slowly started showing up, becoming closer and more clustered the longer they drove. The lights of civilization began to shine down on them, and suddenly the road was a bit less empty. When they made it into Eastview, approaching the venue, Lilia could start to guess who was on their way to the concert. She smiled-

Fuck off Lilia! She’s pushed to her knees, or has she fallen on her own. Help! Who needed help! The picture is fuzzy. Wrong. It’s not as clear as it should be. She’s inebriated. No, she's… she’s…

Her body slumps down, and before she can catch herself, Lilia hits her head off the dashboard. She curses herself, looks at Alice who drives calmly, and sits back up in her seat. “Um,” Alice starts slowly. She turns into a parking spot and shuts off the music. “Are you… back?”

Lilia looks at Alice, searching. Who’s voice had told her to- “Say something,” Lilia said.

“Something? Lilia are you ok? Do I need to call Jen or…?”

Lilia’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a babysitter, baby. I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine. Time was not linear and she was actively jumping around. She couldn't hold herself, couldn't find where she needed to be like she had on the road. She looked at Alice. She needed to ask for help. She needed her sisters for the craft.

“I dont…” Alice bit her lip, “I don’t know how to help you.”

“Well I'm sure that's really hard for you,” she snapped. She rubbed her temples. In the vision… she couldn't get a grip on reality. It was like something was infecting her.

“I’m not taking your shit old woman,” Alice snapped right back, not missing a beat. Lilia barked out a humorless laugh. She nodded approvingly. It confused Alice.

“You’re into punk, right doll? Right. So why the hell are you a cop?” She gave Alice a hard stare. Alice didn't flinch, but regarded Lilia with suspicion. “I’m not, ok, that sounded judgemental. It was.”

“I wanted-”

“To help people? That wasn't intuition, that's common sense. The Protection Witch wants to protect people. So why not get into security? And don't give me that mall security bullshit, that wasn't your choice.” Lilia had successfully deflected back onto Alice. For now. Divine Mother, she really was spending too much time around Agatha. That thought made her shiver, so she softened. “You could be anything, baby,” She reached over for Alice’s hands, “embrace it.”

“Oh fuck off Lilia,” Alice groaned, “fuck that. I’m glad you had your enlightenment moment on the road, but you’re not ok!You still haven't even told me what happened after I died, so unlike Jen, I still don't have a damn clue what's wrong with you! And that's fine! But how am I supposed to protect you?”

“Don't protect me then!” Lilia shouted, “Protect yourself, baby! I’m not senile, I don't-”

“Need a babysitter! I know! You’ve fucking said Lilia, youve fucking said.” Alice slammed her hand down on the horn of the parked car. A group of punk girls, in their early teens, late twenties, cheered. “You’re smart and you can take care of yourself because you've been doing it for centuries. You and everyone else in the house, ok, I've got it. No one taught me how to be a witch. I never made a habit of spending time with women literally centuries older than me.” Her eyes welled up with tears, even as her face contorted back to the familiar anger she’d lived with for so long.

Her mother holds her hand, showing her how to spread the tarot cards. How to read people like reading cards. She will see her mother’s death, and her mother may not see the truth in it. “Please Mama, please won't you listen? Let me help, let me help,” and then in the dark of the night after vision after vision-

“Just let me help you! Don't leave me alone!” Lilia cries out, her hands flying to her hair and pulling her curls out of place, like she’d done as a girl. She shakes as her lungs try to puncture themselves on her ribs, expanding against the shell of her body. She looks back to Alice, ashamed. “That wasn't,” she started, “that wasn't for you.”

Alice nodded. She had unbuckled her seatbelt and was sitting against the inside of the door, her feet pulled up to her knees. Her head was tilted on her arms like they had been at the campfire on the witches road. Alice wasnt smiling though, she was waiting. Lilia handed her a ring to fidget with.

“My mother,” Lilia confessed quietly, “well. I lost her too. I couldn't protect her.” Lilia glances at herself in the side mirror. Her hair had been pulled into disarray. Her makeup should just be wiped off at that point. “I do not want to talk about it. Jen knows. But I knew it would happen, and I couldn't stop it, and I was alone and no one wants to be around a woman who sees their deaths-” her voice cracked, “so I was run out of everywhere. I apologize if I don’t know how to fix you, doll-”

“So don't try to fix me,” Alice said. She started out firm, then paused. She reached over for Lilia’s hand. Lilia took it- hesitantly. “Don’t try to fix, try to help. Advise. Ok?”

Lilia nodded. She pulled the curls out of her face and readjusted the neck of her shirt., fixing her posture. “And you don't need to protect me… just, oh Divine mother, just, support me. Sometimes.”

Alice nodded. A silent agreement passed between them. They did not, in fact, hug it out. They didn't go to the concert, either. With a peace made between them, Lilia saw a worse future. Her abilities were not deteriorating, she was visiting a time where she was drugged. Roofied. After Alice would tell her to fuck off, again, the protection witch would be separated from her. Neither would reach for their powers in time, because they would both be incapacitated. So instead, they went to an old vinyl shop. They left with some Grateful Dead, Billy Joel, and Alice turned Lilia onto the Crane Wives.

The shop owner, an older man, didn't peg them as mother and daughter, like his assistant had asked Lilia. Of course, Lilia said no. The shop owner, who knew and sensed more than his young apprentice, immediately saw them as Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt.

Sisters of the craft. He charged them extra.

They had yet to really understand each other, but certainly, they were getting there.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 24: Christmas Party [OS]

Pairing: Snape x GN!Muggle!Reader

POV: Third, Snape

Setting: Snape lives AU, set many, many years after the Second Wizarding War and life has been kind to Severus at last — with you by his side.

A/N: It’s Christmas Eve darlings! Merry Christmas! 😍🎄✨ We’re in full swing with the celebrations and with the in-laws visiting it’s quite nice. For those who don’t know me, my husband is from Hong Kong and so we have quite different cultures, language barriers (no shared language despite having many languages between us) etc in our family but we always end up having such a great time 🥰

I wish you all the best holiday and I hope next year will be amazing! Let’s end this year’s Rickmas with some Old-Happy-Snape 😍❤

Tags/TW’s: Fluff, Cuteness, Snape Lives, Old Snape, Love, Kissing, Hugging, Comfort, Happiness, Domestic Fluff, HAPPY SNAPE, COMFORT READ

Word Count: 1.1k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Christmas Party

There was little to do for him. You always sorted everything needed, with a smile so bright and a warmth so strong he would never have enough of it. Each year, as if it were a magical law, you turned into an energetic ball of joy with a need to decorate every surface of the little house he had come to feel at home in — a feeling he never expected to experience. It had been years of this warmth now, years of having a bright home and that odd feeling in his gut that came with complete relaxation.

It was all you, of course. It had nothing to do with the cosy kitchen where your favourite mug and his stood side by side next to the kettle. It had little to do with the fireplace of natural stone dressed in garlands and two stockings with his and your name hand-stitched into the white fabric in the living room. There was nothing special about the bedroom with the hand-sewn quilt of fabrics procured during all your travels around the world. Not even the cute covered porch with the hanging swing big enough for two to sit and watch the marvellous sunsets during chilly spring evenings had anything to do with it.

It was you. Just you. He could live in a shack at the edge of the world and you’d make it wonderful, he was certain of it. You were magical. A muggle, sure, but more magical than any spell or incantation could ever hope to be.

“Severus! Where are you, love?” you called and he could not help but smile as he put down his book and got out of the comfortable chair of worn-out leather. “The study,” he said, his voice carrying through the house despite it not being loud. You poked your head in with that bright smile and those warm eyes. “Cheeky, love. Come on, they’ll all arrive soon.” “On my way,” he said while you disappeared, your quick steps sounding out through the house while he moved a bit slower.

He stretched out his back, two pops going off before he rolled his shoulders once. He was no spring boy anymore, and time had not been kind to his body — but you seemed to love it as much today as you had all those years ago. That was all that mattered.

He drew a deep breath, not fearing what was to come as he had done for the first decade by your side. Now he knew better. He was better. Again, it was all your handiwork. So, as he walked through the narrow hallway from one end of the house to the other he found his steps to be light and the warmth of the house felt comfortable rather than stifling as it had done all those years ago when life had been dark and he had been broken.

“Can you get the ice chocolate and the fudge from the fridge?” you asked as he entered the kitchen. “The red or green bowls?” he asked as he grabbed the sweets. You looked over your shoulder at him, a little flour on your nose and the amazing smile had gone even wider. “The red ones, I think the green ones for the gingerbread and candy canes.” He nodded. “Certainly. You know best, sweetheart.” You giggled. “Again.” He harrumphed but obliged. “Sweetheart." “Onnnne more time?” you asked, your eyes warming as you’d stopped whisking whatever was in the bowl before you. “Sweetheart,” he said, not wavering in his gaze hooked to yours. “I love you.” You smiled softly all of a sudden and his heart stuttered.

He sat the sweets down, walking up to you. He grabbed at your waist and pulled you close before whispering into your ear. “I love you beyond all things.” “Sev.” “Mmh, my sweetheart…” he murmured before kissing your cheek that was all warm against his lips. “You’re a wonder, each year—” The doorbell rang and interrupted him. “They’re here!” you called out and he chuckled as you scrambled out of the apron, revealing how perfectly dressed you were in greens and silver. He grabbed your wrist before you bolted. “Flour,” he said before brushing it off your nose.

You leaned up and kissed him quickly with all the love in the world shining in your eyes. Then you nearly ran to the door while he walked slowly out of the kitchen just as jolly voices rang through the house in a cacophony of wishes for Happy Holidays and Merry Christmases. It made him smile hearing his in-laws and friends be so happy to enter his home for a Christmas party. Never had he imagined he’d ever have anything the likes of his current life. But, with you, he had all the things he’d thought impossible — despite the differences and difficulties the two of you had gone through at first it had all been worth it.

He chuckled to himself as he entered the hallway. You were in full swing with gathering everyone's coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. You were more of a clothing pile on legs at that moment than a human. He drew out his wand and flicked it, lifting the burden from you and hanging it all up. “Oh, thank you, love,” you said with a chuckle as he nodded. “Now, can we all gather in the living room for some toddy and sweets that would be great,” you said loudly while the general noise of twelve people in the tiny hallway made it quite hard to hear.

Everyone greeted him warmly, happily, before moving through the house and into the soon-to-be packed living room while you brought up the rear end. “This will be wonderful, love,” you said, giving him a quick hug and kiss. “You make everything wonderful,” he said before releasing you. You blew a raspberry. “Sev, love, you make me who I am,” you said — something you had told him several times but it would probably be the one thing he would never fully understand.

“Then I shall keep doing whatever it is I am doing, sweetheart,” he murmured before stealing another quick kiss before the both of you moved to the living room and all the happy guests who wished to spend Christmas Eve with the two of you every year. I am blessed, he thought and you stopped just beyond the threshold — forcing him to do the same. “You deserve this, Sev.” He glanced down at you. “What?” “You think you’re blessed, but you’ve done all the work to get here. You deserve this, so, smile and enjoy it with me?”

That you knew him so well only added to the warmth. He leaned forward, kissing your temple gently. “Every day, sweetheart. Every. single. day, he murmured with that low tone you seemed to adore so much. And, indeed, your eyes warmed further and there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be than right there in the chaos of a loud Christmas party with you by his side...

The end of Rickmas 2024... Thank you for this year, darlings!

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: HE DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS! 😭👏🎄✨❤

Merry Christmas darlings! I hope you've had a wonderful time this December and that you're all warm on the inside with this last fic of Rickmas 2024 ❤❤❤

I can barely wrap my head around having been able to post every day for Rickmas this year without missing a single day, and it's ended up at a total 69k word count in the end - holy moly 👀😅

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @dontwanttobeanamercanidiot @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @snapesno1thighrider @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @goldenglowwoman @morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl  @lght-n-drk @ladykardasi @lyrixsnape @sunset90 @meliasnape @B3lls @canihelpyou201 @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @sanji-simp @snapesrn @thatlittlefangirl @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos @sanji-simp

Want to be tagged? You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Wonderful Winter Time

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

'❄️IT'S SNOWING!❄️' 

You hit send and put the phone down. You glance through the window on the other side of your desk and smile. You have it all set up so your heavy laptop doesn't block out the scenery, though it's just the alleyway.

The suite in the building across from yours usually has a rich array of flowers on the summer. And the sun hits nicely at a certain time of day and almost illuminates the brick. 

The whole desk buzzes and you read the response. Lloyd almost makes you laugh with only a '😿'. He used to tease you for all your emojis but now you find yourself trying to decipher his use of them. Sometimes he doesn't make much sense. He is a funny guy. 

You pick up your phone and take a picture out the window of how the powder starts to pile on the railing across from you. You hit send and add a follow-up, 'so prettttty.' 

You smile as you peer out again. Another swell of nostalgia floods through you then rolls over to a sense of longing. Your dad would love it. He'd be trying to goad you into sledding, even though he always lost control of his toboggan.  

Your phone shakes violently in your hand. This time, it doesn't stop. You answer Lloyd's call, "uh, hi?" 

"Whatcha doin'?" 

"Uhhhhh," you lean your elbow on the desk, "just finished some work. Was going to put the kettle on--" 

"Forget the kettle. I'm outside." 

"Outside? Lloyd." 

"I know, tootsie, you're a creature of habit but I'm a man without rules," he snickers. 

"I didn't even know you were back," you say. 

"Wow, some welcome, huh?" He scoffs. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." 

"I am," you argue shrilly. "Alright, let me just get my stuff. It might take me a few." 

"Sure thing, candy girl," he says, "I'll keep the seat warm. Crank this thing up to ten." 

"Right, bye," you hang up and stand with a sigh. 

You're happy to have a friend but Lloyd can be a bit... demanding. He's a bit oblivious too. He doesn't always ask, he just kind of does. You're much the opposite but you suppose it makes it more interesting.  

You grab some socks before you tuck your feet into your boots. You stand and grab your jacket. You lost a button and replaced it with a close dupe. Still, it stands out. 

You shove your phone in your purse and pause. Your forgetting something. You scurry back to grab the bundle on the armrest then pluck up your keys. You hurry out and barrell down the stares. He may have caught you offguard but you always hate to keep anyone waiting. 

You kick up snow as you near his car and the doors unlock loudly. You sit with your feet outside and shake off the snow. You pull your legs in and shut the door with a brr. 

"I thought you liked this sh--stuff," he snorts. 

"I do!" You hold out the bundle, "welcome back, Lolly." 

He smirks and curiously eyes the sewn pouch. He takes it and chuckles at the nickname. One autocorrect mixup and it just sort of stuck. 

"Remember, you can't call me that around others. I got an aura to maintain," he says as he loosens the string and looks inside. He tugs out the wolly mitt with its black and grey ombre. He narrows his eyes and slips the other free. He examines them, feeling the stitching. 

"You don't have mitts so I made some," you say, "just in time too!" 

He looks at you then back at the wool, "you made them?" 

"Yeah, like mine," you bounce excitedly, "you like them. I hope the colour's okay. I didn't have black but I found that on discount." 

"They're... nice," he says. 

"Please, try them. See if they fit. I had to guess and my hands are tiny." 

"Uh, yeah," he flinches and looks down again. He shoves his hand into one and raises it, stretching is fingers inside, "perfect. Warm." 

"Awesome," you smile proudly. "But uh, you know... if you don't like them. I know they're not really your style. Oh, maybe I could sew in a Gucci tag--"  

"Stop," he slips it off and puts them back in the bag, "I love em, okay?" 

He leans over and pulls open the glove box. He puts them inside, his shoulder against you, and snaps it shut. 

"Make sure I don't lose them," he sits back and rests his hand on your seat, "so, anyway, you're not gonna make me feel like a chump so easy. You're not the only one with a surprise." 

"Please, I'm not dressed for that bar," you protest.  

"Ha, no, don't worry, you'll be fine," he assures you. 

"Can I have a hint?" You ask as he pulls away from the curb.  

"Nope," he makes the P pop. 

"Hmm, alright. I'll be patient." 

"Just sit pretty, tootsie roll," he steers down the snowy street cautiously. "Wanna turn on some of that girly trash you listen to?" 

You roll your eyes and tap the touchscreen of the stereo. You search for the 00s station and hit play. An Xtina classic comes on and you turn it up. 

"Oh, I love this one," you wiggle in your seat. 

"Really?" He remarks, "wouldn't think..." 

You sit back and tap your foot to the rhythm. You watch the snowflakes drift and peer up into the deepening blue evening. It's so pretty. You're just happy not to be alone. 

You look over as the tires crunch to a stop at the light. At least he has the sense not to drive like a maniac in this weather. As you glance at him, his lips curve around the lyrics of the song silently. You chuckle softly and turn back to the window. You knew he liked your music. 

[bingusmode]

“Friendly” Suggestions

Red Medic x Reader

Warnings: Google translate German, inaccurate German culture, little spellcheck, and hints of sexism (if you squint)

A/N: instead of reader, I am using a class name instead. Vet, short for veterinarian.

Being the only woman on the team was already hard but being Medic’s second hand was even harder. If Vet did one thing, he would do another. If she stitched up one of the boys, he would correct her on her work. God forbid she healed someone on the field, without fail, Medic would throw his “Friendly Suggestions” her.

“I don’t know if I can handle any more of it” Vet took a swig of her morning tea, her other hand rubbing at her temple.

“I’m sure you’ll manage” Spy sat across the table from her, flipping through a magazine. Looking unbothered and uninterested as ever.

“I know I’m not a human doctor, but I know what I’m doing, I don’t need this constant hovering”

Spy didn’t take his eyes off the page he was reading, letting out a neutral “Hm”

Vet rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, going to the boiling tea kettle for a refill.

“Always a joy to talk to you Spy- Fuck!”

Vet dropped her cup in the sink and put down the kettle as fast as she could without spilling boiling water everywhere. Switching on cold water from the faucet to put her now burned hand under the flow.

“That's the second time you’ve burned yourself this week while pouring tea”

“Thank you Spy, I’m aware-”

“You burned youself?”

Vet swore mentally, of course Medic would walk in, he seemed to have a sixth sense when she was doing something wrong.

“Its fine, just a little slip up, nothing serious-”

“Serious or not, you shouldn’t be using cold water. Burn cream is more effective”

“I know but-”

“Here, take this”

Medic took out a small tube of burn cream and set it down on the counter

“Now you’ll be more prepared for another accident, your first aid kits seem often understocked”

Medic smiled at her while grabbing his morning coffee.

“I’m always available if you need any tips,”

Vet could feel her eye twitching. Medic took his mug and whistles as he left the room.

“...My first aid kits are NOT understocked”

“Do they have enough burn cream?”

“I’m gonna punch you Spy”

“Not with that hand you aren’t”

Vet felt her eye twitch in annoyance, leaving the burn cream on the counter. She was not a rookie that Medic needed to guide.

It was hot. Almost unbearably so in the gravel pit. It was nothing new to Vet. She wiped sweat off her neck before wrapping Scout's injured arm up and shooting him up with a small med pack.

“You could do that a little gentler you know-“

“And you could not get shot at every match, but here we are”

Vet stood and extended her arm out to him, helping him off of the ground.

“Go get ‘em champ”

Scout adjusted his hat before bolting off, a quick thanks was shouted over his shoulder.

Vet quickly moved to her next patient. Can’t stay in the same spot for too long in battle. Engineer was up next, he was usually an easy save. She weaved in and out of the empty buildings, making her a harder target to shoot. Her journey was abruptly stopped when a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and jerked her back into the shade of an overhang. Vet had her hand on her gun instantly, trying to find her next target.

“No no! None of that! It’s just me!” She heard Medics' voice before she registered him. She had half of a mind to still pull the trigger.

“Are you out of your mind Medic? I could have sent you to respawn-“

A glove clamped over her mouth as an enemy Demoman ran past their hiding spot, not noticing the two. Once he was gone, Vet wrestled his hand away.

“Would you-“

“The UV index is at a 10 today Frau”

“What.”

Medic smiled at her before pulled out a tube of sunscreen, spreading some on his gloves

“Skin cancer is no joke, even Mercenaries need sun protection”

Without warning, he applied sunscreen to Vets cheeks. Humming as he made sure her face was covered.

Vet had absolutely no words, whatever thoughts she wanted to say failed her.

Medic tapped her cheek once he was done.

“See? Better, it’s good you have someone looking out for you”

He did a once over of his gear before getting back into the action. Eventually Vet felt her rage return in spades.

She wasn’t a child, sure Medic was overbearing, but this was too far.

“That motherfucker-“

Sunscreen be damned, Medic be damned, they had a match to win. And afterword, she would rip him a new one.

Right now, ripping Medic a new one was far from her mind. Vet clutched the enemy’s briefcase to her chest, running as fast as she could. She had one thing on her mind, and that was securing her first win. Her lungs heaved and her knee was absolutely screaming in pain. The enemy Scout caught her with a crowbar, but she kept running. Less like running and more like limping with her busted knee, but she was so close. Just a few more seconds of pain, blood, and heat. With one final sprint, Vet flung herself into Red Base. The brief case falling to the floor with her.

A crisp victory flooded the loudspeakers and soon enough her teammates surrounded her. Heavy was the first to lift her up, cheering as he did.

“Blue team is no match for our Little Doctor!”

“You did alright Miss Vet”

“Mhppppmm!”

Vet soaked in her well deserved accolades, her shattered knee taking a backseat.

Until Medic slowly walked up, his eyes trained in on her injury. He stayed silent while the rest of the team celebrated.

“Frau-“

“I did it! Oh my lanta, I did it,”

“You were foolish”

Voices died down as everyone took in Medics disapproving look.

Vet felt her spark of rage within her chest.

“I’m sorry?”

“Heavy, bring her to my lab. This needs to be treated as soon as possible. Really Frau, you need to take care of yourself”

Medic turned away briefly to clean and adjust his glasses.

Engineer tried hearding the team out of the room, sensing that this conversation was going in the wrong direction.

“How dare you.”

Medic paused, turning to face Vet. She was still in Heavy’s arms, but she had so much to say.

“I won the match and you can’t even congratulate me? Everyone on this team has come back with worse injuries and I’m the one you reprimand?”

Confusion flooded across Medics face, like he wasn’t expecting this response.

“You are not like everyone else-“

“Enough!”

Vets voice rang loud and clear.

“I am a person! You cannot talk down to me and treat me like a child. I have a degree, I pull my weight, and I’ve done plenty to prove myself. You have been singling me out since I got here!”

Heavy could see the sweat forming on Medics brow, and it wasn’t from the heat.

“Frau, I meant no harm-“

“Everyday you correct me or tell me something you think I’m doing wrong, that ends tonight. I’m done, I’ll heal myself”

Vet spat at him, feeling her hands start to shake from all the emotion and excitement.

“Heavy, take me to my room, please”

“Little Doctor-“

“Heavy, please”

Heavy glanced over at Medic before shuffling out of the room. The rest of the team quickly dispersed after that. Not wanting to be caught up in whatever drama was happening.

All that left was Medic, staring at the brief case on the floor and shame washing over him.

“I do not understand”

Medic moved his chess piece, waiting for Heavy’s next turn.

“What am I doing wrong? Have I not been clear enough?”

Heavy studied the board before making his move.

“You have been very clear my friend, but you two are not of the same world”

Medic groaned and took off his glasses, trying to rub away his oncoming headache.

“Care to elaborate?”

Heavy paused, his chess piece a few inches away from being placed on the board.

“You Germans…how do I say this…express your feelings differently”

“I express myself perfectly fine!”

Heavy held up his hand, Medic huffed before shutting his mouth.

“To her, it sounds like you are doubting her abilities, questioning her judgment. Making Vet feel like less woman and more like child”

Medic tossed up his hands.

“How else will she know I can take care of her? I give her burn salve when she gets burned, I make sure her skin is protected from the harsh sun, I showed I care more about her than a…than a dummer Aktenkoffer!”

“This may be true, but to a non German, you are undercutting her success.”

Medic leaned forward

“Am I really doing that?”

Heavy nodded, taking Medics chess piece.

“Listen to Little Doctor. She is capable of taking care of herself”

“I know she is capable, much more than that…I just want her know I can take care of her too”

Heavy patted his friend on the shoulder.

“Do not give up hope Doctor, plenty of time for you to fix mess”

“I hope so…”

Just from around the corner, Vet listened. She had only meant to grab more bandages, not eavesdrop.

This whole time, Medic was trying to flirt with her?

She felt the tips of her ears warm, some of her anger starting to ebb away.

Well, if that’s how he flirted, maybe two could play at that game.

“Scheiße!” Medic jerked his hand away from the stove.

“Scout! You cannot leave this on!”

“Wasn’t me jackass!”

Medic rolled his eyes before searching for his salve, remembering that he gave it to Vet weeks before.

“Idiot boy…”

Heavy mumbled, turning a page in his book.

Vet peaked around the doorframe, fidgeting with the burn salve Medic gave her.

“Medic?”

His attention was immediately on her, Heavy watched from behind his book.

Vet approached and held out the salve. Letting Medic take it.

“Thank you Frau,” Medic watched himself carefully, doing his best not to say anything that could make him look worse.

Vet hesitated before giving him another tube of burn salve, a different brand.

“This is my preferred brand, I think it’ll take care of you better”

Medic and Heavy both paused, wondering if they heard that right.

“Oh, well, thank you”

“You’re more than welcome to see me if you need anymore”

Vet smiled at him before going on her way.

As soon as she left the room, Medic met Heavy’s gaze.

“She - she flirted with me! The German way!”

“I don’t think you have enough salve Doctor, the burn is big”

Medic nearly tripped out of the room following Vet, calling out to her to wait for him.

Heavy let out a small sigh, going back to his book. If Medic burning his hand was enough for Vet to notice him, then Heavy would have left the stove on a long time ago.

[logicbutton]

Hey guys what's up I learned bookbinding to make @cindthia a physical copy of Synchronized Cardioversion for our anniversary :3

Pics and process documentation below!

I used the following resources:

How to Make a Book by ArmoredSuperHeavy

Bookbinding Resources Master List by Renegade Bindery

r/Fanbinding

the fanbinding tag on AO3 - shoutout to r3zuri's fanbinding of a FFVII fic for their extremely informative cliff's notes version of the process

the Intro to Hand Bookbinding class at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts, an incredible resource for anyone in or near Minneapolis interested in learning how to bind their own books.

First, I typeset the fanfic. I did this by downloading it from AO3, trying to figure it out myself, checking How to Make a Book for help with a problem I was having, and realizing that I should have just used it from the beginning in the first place. I used Microsoft Word 2013.

Fonts: Palatino Linotype, Helvetica (for the characters' text messages), Beatline (for titles) Margins: .88" top, 1" bottom, .75" inside, .75" outside, .25" gutter Front matter: - Title page with only the title - "Praise for Synchronized Cardioversion" with comments from the fic - Title page with title, author name, and a colophon I made - Copyright page with fic copyright, fic URL, TLT series copyright, disclaimer, AO3 fic summary, first chapter author's notes, copyright for in-text art, book design credit, font info Back matter: - Acknowledgments (from the fic) - "Also by CindFourth" with all their TLT fic separated into Synchronized Cardioversion Extended Universe (might make another book of this at some point); Other Camgideon, Campal, and Team 69; and Other Locked Tomb

I set the page layout to "book fold" with 16-page signatures. As for the art, one of Cind's requests in last year's TLT Holiday Exchange was for art of this fic and they got not only a fantastic one-page comic from their assigned creator, our friend @anaeolist (who also did a sketch of Cam and Gideon kissing - we'll come back to that later), but also a lovely piece as a treat from our friend @kat-hikari. I got permission from both artists to include their work in the book.

The finished file was 408 pages, so I added four blank pages (two sheets) to the beginning and the end to make 26 signatures even.

Next, I printed the pages. I used my Brother DCP-L2550DW and Hammermill 11x8.5 24/60 lb. cream bookbinding paper from Church Paper. I'd read that sometimes using short-grain paper in a regular printer could cause it to jam, but it went fine. The cream color made the pages look so professional.

I folded the pages into signatures and then pressed them overnight. Since I don't have a book press, I sandwiched them between two sheets of bookboard and put a heavy box on top, and that worked well.

The next step, punching holes and sewing, was my favorite. I'd made a punching cradle using instructions I got in my bookbinding class. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be, and it only used bookboard and PVA glue, so I didn't even need to buy anything I hadn't already bought for the project.

I used three pieces of tape and sewed them on using a kettle stitch.

Then I went to MCBA to use their guillotine on the text block and their board shear to cut boards for the cover.

I chose orange cardstock for the endpaper, and because I am a novice making novice mistakes I unfortunately forgot to get a size of cardstock that would let me fold it on the grain, but anyway. I trimmed it to the exact size of the pages and glued it to the text block. Next I glued the spine of the text block, rounded it a bit (not the way an expert would; you learn that in Intermediate Hand Bookbinding), added a strip of super mull and headbands at either end, and sat it under a weight to dry while I made the cover.

The Bristol board I cut for the spine was probably 1/8" too wide, which makes a bigger difference than you would think. Next time I'm going to err on the side of slightly too narrow when I'm already giving myself three board widths of a buffer on either side.

Aside from that, the cover turned out great! I could have done a better job lining up the endpaper when I glued it in, but that's the kind of thing you practice I guess.

I love the way the navy blue bookcloth looks with the cream paper, the orange endpaper, and the red and white headbands.

Now that I had the exact dimensions of the book, I could finally design the dust jacket. Remember that sketch of Cam and Gideon kissing that anaeolist did for the holiday exchange? I commissioned them to turn it into a finished piece for the cover, and boy did they ever deliver. I also asked some of our other friends who had read the fic to give me blurbs for the back cover, and they delivered too. Cind's and my relationship wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful community we met in and I wanted this gift to reflect that.

I created the jacket in GIMP at a print resolution of 300ppi and saved it as a pdf. The final step was to get it printed, which I was nervous about because it was the only part of the process that I had no control over at all. Long story short, I ended up with something I was very happy with done by a small chain print shop where I had to go in and talk to a human about what I needed.

I also posted this to AO3!

[mothdogsart]

Today I finally finished the fanbinding project I started back in October 😅

This is a fanbind of Atlas, my favorite ever Spirk fanfiction and a loving portrait of the mote of sunlight that is AOS Jim Kirk. This fic was written by @distractedkat and can be read on AO3 (Tumblr isn’t letting me add a link on mobile.)

The text block was kettle-stitched and typeset completely from scratch in Word, and the dust jacket was designed in Canva Pro. I realized I forgot to take a picture without the dust jacket, but it’s cloth bound in a navy linen bookcloth from Amazon.

I’m really proud of how tightly this bind came out compared to my wonky first attempt! Now my partner and I can reread this amazing story in physical format for years to come 🥰