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ninii-winchester · 2 months

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Revived (Part 2)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings : fluff, slight angst, violence, canon level gore, language, demons, unedited.

A/n : turned it to a mini series. The next part will be the last.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Y/n groaned in her sleep, snuggling back into the covers. She felt soft kisses being placed all over her face and she smiled her eyes still closed. "Dean, let me sleep." She mumbled sleepily.

"Wake up, sunshine." Dean whispered in her ear. "I miss those pretty eyes."

“You’re so cheesy.” She giggled turning her face away from him. All she wants is a few a extra minutes of sleep.

“Sweetheart, I’m making up for lost time, it took only three revivals for us to get together.” He said, she was enjoying his over-the-top cheesiness, before he jokingly added, “God forbid one of us dies again.” He let out a chuckle. She froze at as he spoke. Dean noticed her sudden stillness and questioned, “you okay?”

“Yeah.” She said turning to look at him, finally opening her eyes. “Just don’t like you talking about either of us dying.” She said softly. It wasn’t a lie either, she didn’t like to think about Dean dying again.

“I’m sorry I won’t bring it up again.” Dean apologised, he understands it must be hard for her to watch him die time and time again. He doesn’t even want to think about, how he’d feel something were to happen to her, ever. He’d probably lose his mind. And that’s putting it lightly.

It had been six months since Y/n made the deal and Dean came back from the dead. Y/n was relived that the incident has been fairly forgotten, the boys don’t bring it up anymore and she doesn’t have to fake her expressions while talking about it. She needs to make sure that they never find out, unless she wants to be on the bad side of angry Winchesters.

Later that day, Y/n had been surfing through the internet looking for cases. And she did find one, in Wyoming.

“Boys!” She yelled from the library and the Winchesters appeared in the war room. “I found us a case.” She said looking at them.

“What is it?” Sam asked walking towards her, leaning over her chair to read the news. “Three dead, reports of strange noises, cattle mutilation, sudden temperature drop.” He read out loud.

“Sounds demon-y.” Dean said sitting on the table.

“What do ya say?” Y/n asked expectantly.

“I say gear up.” Dean replied nodding at the two.

The three of them settled into Baby and headed to Laramie, Wyoming. It was an nine hour drive approximately, including stops for gas and food. When they arrived at the motel Y/n’s whole body was sore, feeling cramped in the backseat the whole journey, she jumped out and stretched her body.

It was late at night when they arrived so they decided to just rest for the night and then jump into action first thing in the morning. Y/n and Dean shared a bed while Sam took the other. Another good thing of being with Dean, none of them had to settle for the uncomfortable pullout couch.

The next day Y/n and Sam went to police station, dressed as refined Federal Agents, while Dean looked around for anything out of ordinary and spoke to the local people. Dean was already back at the motel when Sam burst through the door, agitation clear on his face, Y/n quietly trailing behind. The younger Winchester slammed the files on the table.

“I don’t understand.” He voiced out.

“What’s wrong?” Dean questioned looking concerned.

“I read the files there’s nothing unusual, went to the vics’ house, none of them made any deals. No trace of sulfur at the houses either.” He said running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe it’s not demons? Witches?” Dean questioned.

“No hex bags either.” Y/n replied. “What did you find?”

“Jack with a side of squat.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“The omens clearly point to demons but there’s something wrong here.” Sam sighing dropping on the chair.

“Don’t fret it, Sammy. We’ll figure it out.” Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder. “Food anyone?” She questioned hoping to ease the tension and Sam nodded. She quickly changed into her regular clothes and grabbed her jacket.

“Be safe.” Dean pecked her lips. “And don’t forget my pie.”

“Alright, you big baby.” She kissed him briefly and she was out of the door.

Forty five minutes passed and there was no sign of Y/n. Dean was growing restless with each passing minute. He tried calling her but it kept going to voicemail.

“Something’s wrong, Dean.” Sam stated. He pulled out his phone and sighed in relief. “Her GPS is still on.” Sam said showing his phone to his brother.

The two didn’t say another word before grabbing their jackets and running out of the door. They followed her trail and reached an old looking building. There were angel warding signs on the front of the place.

The boys quickly grabbed a fews guns, an angel blade and Ruby’s knife from the artillery in the trunk of the Impala. Gripping the blades tightly in their hands they made their way inside.

There were voices coming from further down the hall. They recognised one voice as Y/n’s and the other was a manly but unfamiliar one. There were two other demons positioned outside the room the voices were coming from. With a quick nod to each other Sam and Dean attacked. Plunging their blades into the demons, killing them instantly.

Dean immediately rushed inside the room and Sam followed behind. Y/n was tied to a chair, bloodied and bruises littering her face. A man stood few feet away from her, beside a table full of knives and blades.

“Oh look, Dean Winchester is here for his whore.” The demon taunted as he hears footsteps approaching. “I don’t have anything to do with you two so you can walk away unscathed.” The demon said looking at the Winchesters.

“We’re not leaving without her.” Sam said, two more demons appeared and grabbed Sam and Dean.

“What beef do you have with her?” Dean growled. His eyes briefly flickering to her battered figure.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with her.” The demon walked behind her and pulled her hair to make her look up.

“I don’t even know who you are.” She muttered heaving lightly.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll remember pretty soon.” He said slapping her face. He picked up a knife and stabbed her in the thigh. She screamed loudly and Dean yelled at the demon to get away from her.

“You..” she panted. “You’re…that crossroads…” she trailed off.

“So you do remember.” Y/n’s head lolled to the side. “I’ve been waiting for so long to get my revenge, you bitch. And when I heard your soul is up for collecting, I knew I’d be the one to drain the life out of you.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean growled.

“Oh so you don’t know that your beloved Y/n sold her soul?” Dean’s eyes widened at the demon’s words. He looked at Y/n who avoided looking at him. The demon smirked before adding, “you really didn’t. I wonder what else dear old Y/n hid from you. Do you know what she did when you went to Hell?”

“Dammit Y/n/n what did you do?” Dean asked softly looking at her.

“You’re precious little whore, tortured demons to bring you back. She killed many, but she made me suffer. Bitch would’ve killed me too had I not escaped, somehow.” The demon growled but then he smirked evilly. “I wanted to kill her so many time, but every time you two showed up. Then word got out Y/n L/n sold her soul. I wreaked havoc here to bring her here and now I’ll drag her ass to hell.” The demon cackled.

Before he could do any further, he was thrown against the wall and the demons holding Sam and Dean loosened their holds and stepped back looking at the intruder. The brothers wasted no time stabbing their captors and rushing to Y/n untying her from her binds.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The familiar voice said walking towards the demon.

“I was just taking her soul to hell.” The demon said standing up. “She sold her soul.”

“You think I don’t know that!” The voice exclaimed. “I MADE THAT DEAL. How dare you swindle my deal.” Crowley’s voice echoed through the vacant building. “That’s not how business works. And I don’t have place for incompetent employees.” He said snapping his fingers disintegrating the demon.

“The fuck you mean you made that deal?” Dean questioned holding a barely conscious Y/n in his arms.

“You died, Squirrel. She brought you back.” Crowley replied.

“Yeah and how’d did you manipulate the situation for yourself huh?” Sam accused approaching him menacingly. “How much time did you give her?”

“Fifteen years.” Crowley’s answer made him jerk back a bit.

“What?” Sam questioned but Crowley just rolled his eyes.

“All this skepticism after all this time, Moose.” He said poofing away.

“We gotta get her back to the motel, her thigh is bleeding too much.” Dean said walking outside and placing her in the backseat of the Impala.

He was going insane, he couldn’t focus. The only thing that kept ringing in his head was,

She sold her soul. She sold her soul. She sold her soul.

How could she do that. She promised, no deals. There’s a lot to talk about, there’s lot he needs to know. But the only thing on his mind at the moment is getting her back to the motel, treating her wounds and make sure she’s alright.

“Hang on, baby. We’re almost here.” He whispered softly, unsure if he was reassuring her or himself.

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sopiao · 1 year

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ghost with a pregnant!wife!reader with late night/general cravings :P

sending him to the nearest convenience store late at night started to become a regular thing a couple months after you two found out your pregnant.

Cravings start pretty early on but their more mild, craving and wanting food at random times of the day or having certain snacks on your mind for hours whenever it’s mentioned. But on the second trimester is when it gets really bad, odd foods or combinations start to taste amazing, the cravings and need for certain foods gets so strong it feels like your starving even after a full meal.

But your husband already knows how to deal with you, knows how to talk to you and calm you down in any state of mind. He was especially attentive and sensitive when you both found out about the baby.

Always scratching your back whenever you need him too. Keeping up with his research and looking up every little detail or notice. If you mention that your feet hurt or that you woke up in the middle of the night. He’ll spend the next hour surfing the internet to see if it’s something that’s bothering you or the baby.

He’ll sing it hum to your bump (only when your asleep), caressing the round with his scarred hands, sometimes even holding normal conversations about his day even though the baby can’t answer back.

Simon already can’t get much sleep with his insomnia or late nights that he’s up working. But when you wake him up in the middle of the night to tell him that you’re hungry. He immediately sits up, still a bit tired and lucid, but is more than willing to drive you to Sonic to get you whatever you want, or to the nearest gas station or 7-11 to buy you your snacks.

He’d still be half away when he’s standing in the aisle with you. Slightly swaying side to side, still in his pajamas which is just a black tank and black sweats. Watching you, still wearing his sleep shirt, happily fill your arms with snacks and drinks.

Simon still keeps his.

—

“Love, seriously?” Simon walked into your and his shared bedroom, holding a plastic bag of food you asked him to buy. The small confused smile on his face when he sees you sitting in the middle of the bed, watching your favorite show.

“What? You know I get snacky sometimes” You shrug, wearing one of his favorite band shirts that he loves to see you in, as you watch him walk up to the bed and set the bag in front of you. Sitting at your side with his hand on your stomach, pecking your cheek.

“Chocolate and strawberries are fine. But watermelon and salt? You don’t think that’s a little odd?” Your husband chuckled, sitting behind you in a way that your sitting between his legs and you can rest your back on his chest. Rolling your eyes, rummaging through the bag.

“I’m carrying the baby here. Don’t question the baby’s needs” You try to shush his sass by loosely laying your hand over his mouth. He chuckles full of adoration, holding your hand as he watches you snack away. Wrapping his strong arms around you, mainly your bump, likes to think that he’s protecting both you and the baby when he does this.

—

There were many nights that he woke up, sleepily searching for your figure in the bed with his arm. But when he can’t feel for you he sits up and opens his eyes to find your spot of the bed empty. And the door open with the hallway and kitchen lights on.

“Hun? What are you doing up?” He grumbles, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up, leaning against the door frame. His heart drops when he sees you turn around with a knife. He strides over and swiftly but gently removes the knife from your hand.

“I got hungry and I didn’t wanna wake you” By the sound of your voice he can tell that you’ve been up for a while and is wide awake.

Yes, you are often clumsy, but not that clumsy. Ever since the bump started to become more pronounced he was more protective of you from counter tops, shark objects, or anything blunt.

“Love, I don’t mind helping you with anything, especially now. You won’t bother me by asking” He explained in a tone that was slightly scolding but still very loving and soft, feeling so lucky that he was like this to you, it was so different than how he is with others or at work.

Simon later finds out that you just needed to cut your sandwich in triangles. For some reason it just taste better for you.

—

He never once complained or thought negatively about how much you eat. Simon is absolutely in love with the thought of getting to hold a chubby baby on his inked arm. How chubby the little arms and fingers are. Being able to squish the chub of the cheeks and the roundness of the tummy.

Loves to think that every time you eat and indulge in your weird snacks, that the baby will grow more stronger and healthier. And if your happy, the baby is happy.

Simon even remembers which of your unusual food combos and snacks is your favorite to pack in your hospital bag.

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shegatsby · 2 months

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Okay I just had an amazing idea! Imagine reader as Hannibals patient and both of them meeting in an online portal similar to tattle crime where you can chat privately, they start talki g and develop like a relationship but for the sake of their identities they keep their real names out of the chat when one day the reader texts hannibal that they're at the psychiatrists office with a picture of the floor attatched, Hannibal obviously realizes its the floor of the waiting room, during the session he acts like nothing happened but at the end of their session hannibal adresses the reader by their username. The rest is up to you!

A/N: Hi, thank you for this request I really loved the idea. I changed it a bit because we all know that Hannibal would never leave anything to chance, of course he is gonna stalk you babe ;)

Warnings: Stalking.

Words: 1.442K

It was late in the evening, Baltimore’s cold weather made you stay under your fuzzy blankets with a hot cup of tea. Your laptop on your lap, you logged onto your account in Tattle Crime. It was a blog about your city’s newest crimes, recently you have been on that blog a lot, there was a serial killer on the loose, people were wither sharing info or commenting about the gruesome murders. Everyone was talking about the ‘’Chesapeake Ripper’’ you’ve always been interested in serial killer’s mindsets so Tattle Crime was a useful blog on that to feed your curiosity, how you were oblivious to what’s to come…

You read some articles which compares the Chesapeake Ripper to other serial killers and you left a comment under it, saying that comparing is false, because he is something we have never seen before etc. It was your honest opinion, his killings and presentation of the bodies were more meticulously sophisticated. You referred to the killer as ‘’him’’ due to the fact that most serial killers were male.

You opened a new tab and surfed on the internet, you were watching your favorite old Hollywood movie when you had a notification from Tattle Crime. The blog had dm box so that users could communicate which you never used before but someone sent you a text. The user didn’t have their name, their handle was ‘’Botticeli’’ the last name of the famous painter, Sandor Botticelli, your handle was ‘’Hekate’’ the witch goddess. You didn’t like putting your real name out there and appearently so did the person who messaged you.

‘’I am interested in your thoughts regarding the Chesapeake Ripper, I would love to hear more if that is convenient for you.’’

It was strange but you loved to chat about your favorite topics, since you weren’t busy you decided to text back.

‘’Hello, of course. I would love to chat about him, he is such an enigma.’’ You sent and waited, for some reason your hands went cold, you had a strange sensation in your stomach.

You had messaged a stranger online for 4 hours, the conversation was vibrant and it was obvious that the guy you were texting was knowledgeable, you learned that he was a 40 year old man, living in Baltimore, you told him your age, you were at university, you and him respected each others’ private life so not much info were exchanged other than nice conversation about art, literature and murder. Later you said your good nights and you turned off your laptop and went to bed straight, you had morning classes.

It was snowing, you had dark circles under your eyes but you made effort in your appearance, you wore a nice winter dress with long boots, hair tied and a light make up to cover the tiredness. In the mean time Doctor Hannibal Lecter was on his office, getting ready for his patient. He was facing his laptop’s screen, on the screen he had information you, thanks to his work with the FBI he had privileged access to get peoples info. He learned your address, university, your Instagram, everything. He decided to message you again.

You were at the cafeteria, eating and looking at your notes when you got a notification, the stranger you had a nice conversation with last night messaged you again. ‘’I apologies for keeping you up so late last night, I hope you had some sleep, good morning.’’

You couldn’t help but smile, he was formal yet you could sense some kind of kindness and concern.

‘’Hey, no need to apologies. I enjoyed our conversation last night. Morning!’’

For days you messaged back and forth, everyday without being to open, he told you his day, and you told him about your day, over the days you learned his habits, he was an early bird, loved to read and keep his mind busy, he also mentioned the dinner parties he throws every once in a while. You were intrigued, but kept your cool.

After a month you were having mental problems, your assignments were too much and you had some problems from your past, ever since you mentioned your problems he was being more kinder than usual, he was giving you affirmations such as;

‘’You are a smart girl, you can do it.’’

‘’I believe in your abilities.’’

You liked the way he talked to you. Neither of you asked for a phone number or even an email address which felt safe.

One day he suggested that you should see a psychiatrist, since he had access to your university he could see your grades and they were dropping and he didn’t like that. He wanted you to succeed.

He sent you a list of psychiatrists and made some recommendations, you were falling into his trap and he was enjoying it, he wanted to see you and this was the opportunity. You said you would think about it and in order to give you some time he said it was okay.

When you had a melt down while studying you decided to think about Botticelli’s list of psychiatrist and you sent a mail to the Doctor writing that you needed an urgent session, thankfully Doctor Lecter replied quickly, you were too busy to notice how odd it was to reply to you in a minute. He wrote that tomorrow at 6 would be convenient for him, it was convenient for you too because your classes end at 5 pm. Of course he knew that and you would be his last patient of the day.

After your classes you got on the bus and went to the Doctor’s office. You clung to your long coat and walked into the building, the warmth welcomed you, there was a desk but no secretary was in the view, you knocked on the grey door and waited, your heart beating at a rapid speed.

A tall man opened the door, his three piece suit made him look intimidating, he was standing proud and tall.

‘’Miss Y/L/N I presume?’’ he questioned, his maroon eyes scanning you, he was really good at hiding his excitement, there you were, the woman he had been messaging over a month was standing right before him. ‘’Dr. Lecter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’’ You extended your hand and he gladly took it, he noticed how soft your hands were, there was a certain feeling in his chest, ‘’Please come in.’’

His office was grand, the fire place was lit which gave the room a cozy feeling and yet it resembled the museum, formal. You sat on the leather armchair and he sat opposite with his leather notebook and silver pen. He started the conversation, as he was speaking he made notes of her manners and behavior, you had a simple jeans and a black top, even though your outfit was normal Hannibal found you elegant like a swan.

During your session you had a feeling as if you have met him before, he was kind but his voice and his demeanor made you think before you speak, thankfully he made you comfortable by talking art and literature, his replies sounded familiar, you thought as if you were talking to your new online friend.

‘’Dr. Lecter, I must say I’m here because one of my friends recommended you to me.’’ You confessed, ‘’Oh, did your friend ever came to me before for a session?’’ he asked looking curious as if he wasn’t about to reveal himself to you.

‘’No, I mean I’m not sure, he is an online friend so..’’ you replied shortly, looking around.

‘’Oh really, Hekate?’’

You froze, did he just addressed you by your username on Tattle Crime?

‘’I-I’m sorry..?’’ you stuttered, you must have heard it wrong.

He placed the notebook and pen on the nearby table and stood up, fixing his clothes he came up to you, you had to look up, he extended his hand to you, ‘’Botticelli,’’ he said, ‘’Nice to finally meet you in person, I must say, I didn’t expect such a beauty, your intellect matches your divine face.’’

Your first reaction was to get up and run to the door, it was locked.

You turned to face him, his hands in his pockets, he was smiling ear to ear, ‘’You wound me Hekate, I thought you liked me.’’ he started to walk to you, your back pressed to the locked door, he stood before you, one of his hands found your heated cheek, with the back of his hand he caressed it gently, ‘’Do not be afraid, all I want is for you to be mine.’’

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chipper-smol · 1 year

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Clarifications

1: Any edition, any handbook, but only one

2: Surf the internet just like it was in the golden age without worrying about companies getting waaay too into your personal details

3: The garden troll is your classic fairy-tale troll. Big giant that turns to rock in the sunlight and is only animate at night. always grumpy but patient and appreciates a good listener

4: Want someone to be irritated by their shirt tag all day? done. Want someone to die of a heart attack? hmmmmm sorry bud, that wont work. (this thing won't kill. If the minor inconvenience will end up with the person dying, it won't work.)

5: become a little guy :D

6: the thing of dreams, downside is that you gotta pause to listen to the snappy comebacks and the delivery is up to you

7: Whiskers! Opposable thumbs on your feet! Retractable claws! The ability to see in the dark! Hollow bones? A crop? POISON BARBS!

The ability resets every 10 minutes. If you take the bracelet off the transformation deactivates and doesn't activate until the 10 minutes is up.

8: If you still have them, they get a friend (or they can be stitched up to be as good as new with all the love still packed inside!)

9: "Late" as in deceased. Loved one can be anyone. Family, friend, pet, significant other, etc.

10: Everyone significant gets a theme song, new places get background music, stores get shopping music, mini-game music when competing with your friends. Definitely won't be helpful during an exam though

See the first poll here!

#polls #mypolls #G muses

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princess-sof-time · 1 year

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may I request the hoshino family? (oshi no ko) aqua and ruby learning their father (and ai's husband) used to be in a band that's like the equivalent to tally hall (or at least had the same energy). And now as teens and the internet rediscovering the hidden gem that is reader's band and songs now getting popular.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

🄰🅀🅄🄰 🄷🄾🅂🄷🄸🄽🄾

• One evening, Aqua was lounging on his bed, his phone in hand as he idly scrolled through his social media feed. Amidst the usual stream of posts, a particular one caught his eye - it was from a distant relative, someone he hadn't seen in ages. The post seemed to be reminiscing about his father's past, back when he used to be a rockstar in a band, a fascinating piece of family history that had only been mentioned in passing during family gatherings.

• Intrigued, Aqua couldn't resist clicking the link attached to the post, leading him to a treasure trove of nostalgia - a collection of old songs performed by his father's band. As the first notes filled his ears, he was immediately transported back in time. The music had a distinctive charm, a blend of quirkiness and catchy melodies that made his heart dance with delight. The lyrics were filled with stories and emotions, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swelling inside him as he recognized his father's voice harmonizing with the other talented band members.

• As he continued to listen, Aqua found himself diving deeper into the internet's newfound celebration of this hidden gem of a band. People were sharing their love for the music, praising the band's unique style and the impact they had made in their heyday. Aqua couldn't help but marvel at how these songs, once confined to a few dusty tapes and memories, were now reaching a new generation of listeners through the magic of the digital age.

• With excitement bubbling within him, Aqua decided to seize the perfect opportunity during dinner to surprise his father with his discovery. As they sat around the table, he casually brought up the topic of music and mentioned how he stumbled upon some old songs online, not giving away the surprise just yet.

• His father's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he encouraged Aqua to share more about the songs he had found. As Aqua began to describe the music and how much he enjoyed it, he finally revealed the truth - that the band he had stumbled upon was none other than his father's band from yesteryears.

• The revelation took his father by surprise, and a mix of emotions played across his face - a blend of nostalgia, joy, and perhaps a hint of bashfulness at his teenage rockstar days being unearthed. He shared with Aqua the tales of late-night rehearsals, wild concerts, and the unbreakable bond he had formed with his bandmates, a camaraderie that had stood the test of time.

• From that day forward, Aqua and his dad found a new connection through music. Their evenings were filled with laughter, as his father recounted more stories from his band's adventures, sharing anecdotes of fans, road trips, and the euphoria of performing live on stage. Aqua couldn't help but marvel at how music had once been such a big part of his father's life, and he cherished this newfound understanding of his dad as not just a parent but as a passionate musician.

• The hidden gem of his father's band had now been rediscovered, not only for the Aqua but also by the wider world through the power of the internet. Together, they embraced this unexpected resurgence, with Aqua even finding himself secretly humming the familiar tunes throughout the day, feeling a sense of pride knowing that his father's musical legacy was touching hearts and inspiring a new generation.

🅁🅄🄱🅈 🄷🄾🅂🄷🄸🄽🄾

• One day, while Ruby was surfing the internet, she found an old photo in the family album. In the image, her father, younger and more relaxed, holding a guitar, with wild hair and full of energy. But what caught Ruby's attention the most were the other people around him, his friends from his old band.

• Curious, Ruby asked her mother, Ai, who was nearby, who were those people in the picture with her father. With a warm smile, Ai explained that they were her father's old bandmates, from when he was much younger and part of a band that had the same energy and magic as a beloved group called Tally Hall.

• Ruby listened carefully to the moving stories her mother told about the spirited performances, creative adventures and strong friendship that bound the band together as a musical family. Each story painted a vivid picture of a young man in love, putting all his heart and soul into music, and this made Ruby admire her father's hidden talent even more.

• Driven by a desire to find out more about her father's musical journey, Ruby decided to investigate further. With the help of the internet, she looked up information about his former band. And much to her delight, she found that the band's songs were gaining popularity again and gaining a new generation of fans across multiple online platforms.

• As Ruby got deeper into the music, she was enthralled by the catchy melodies full of personality, which conveyed the same vibrant energy as her father. Each song seemed to tell a unique story and brought out special emotions. It was as if Ruby had found a musical treasure, taking her back to a time she didn't live but that connected her in a special way.

• Filled with excitement, Ruby couldn't wait to share her discovery with her father. And finally, over a family dinner, she enthusiastically shared her findings. Everyone in the room was curious and excited as Ruby spoke passionately about the music, the band and how audiences were rediscovering this musical treasure.

• Looking into her father's eyes, Ruby saw a mixture of surprise, joy and a touch of nostalgia. He hadn't expected her to discover his musical background in such a special way. Long-cherished memories resurfaced, and he shared more heartwarming stories about the band's adventures and heartfelt bonds with fans.

• From that moment on, Ruby and her father found a new connection through their shared love of music. They spent more time together, telling stories and laughing, and even playing some of the band's old songs together. Their passion for music brought them even closer, and Ruby came to see her father not only as a father, but also as a talented musician full of life.

• The revival of her father's old band not only brought back musical memories from the past, but also inspired Ruby in a special way. Encouraged by her father's experiences and driven by her connection to this hidden musical treasure, she began to explore her own musical talents. The two embarked on a musical journey together, fueling each other's creativity and sharing a special passion for music.

• As time passed, the music of her father's band continued to gain popularity on the internet, and Ruby took immense pride knowing that her father's legacy was touching the hearts of a new generation. This was proof of the magical and timeless power of music, which surpasses barriers of time and space. Ruby was extremely grateful to be part of this musical rediscovery.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

#oshi no ko x reader #aqua hoshino x reader #ruby hoshino x reader #headcanons #anime x reader

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mcx7demonbros · 2 years

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Don’t Read NoSleep Too Much (Minific - Lucifer x GN!MC)

After having finished doing your homework inside Lucifer’s study, you looked at your watch and after seeing that it was still too early to turn in, you took your phone out and began surfing the Internet. At first, you were only scrolling through the social media, but then, you had the mood to read some scary stories, since it was night and all, you searched NoSleep and began to read stories on Reddit community.

Some of the stories, you thought, weren’t scary at all or their horror were just not enough for you. However, others sent the chill down your spine. While all the hair on your body was standing up, you felt a hand touching you from behind.

“ARGHHHH!” You screamed.

“MC, it’s me.” Lucifer said.

“Thank goodness.” You said as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Were you reading NoSleep stories?” The prideful demon asked with a sadistic look on his face. Of course, he would rejoice in your suffering.

“Y-yes. But I’m not s-scared at all.” You lying ability was as bad as Mammon.

“Of course. You are the one who’ve tamed the seven rulers of Hell, after all.” Lucifer said, still giving you the sadistic-and-all-knowing look. “I just wanted to tell you it’s late. So go to sleep.”

You looked at the time on your D.D.D, it was 10:45pm. You wanted to argue that it was still early (compared to how late the HoL residents usually go to sleep), but Lucifer was giving you the “no” look and you had to accept defeat.

You gathered your things and went to the door. You opened the door and what greeted you was a dark corridor, with no light at all, and you could swear you saw someone…or something running past in the corner of the darkness.

It must be one of the brothers, right? You gulped.

“MC, why do you keeping standing at the door?”

You turned back to look at Pride, who still had that sadistic smile on his face. He knew you were scared. And he was waiting for you to say you needed him.

At first, you refused to give in. But as you looked back to the dark corridor which you were unsure what it was hiding, you sighed and accepted defeat for a second time.

“Lucifer, c-can you escort me back to my room?”

“Alright.”

Five minutes later, you two reached your bedroom.

“We’ve arrived. I’m leaving now.” Lucifer said as he turned around to go back to his study.

“Wait.”

“What is it?” Lucifer turned back to look at you. He already knew what you were going to ask.

“Can you hold me during my sleep tonight?” You asked, face blushed pink.

“Of course.” Pride chuckled. “It would be my pleasure.”

#obey me #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me fanfic #lucifer x mc #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios

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freezgibux · 7 months

Note

Can u write something for reyna 😞 i’m in love with reyna fr and ur writing

Of course! Ty for requesting by the way! AND I JUST REALISED THAT THIS SUCKS!!!!!!!!! But at least i tried. Try to enjoy. Love ya!

Reyna. Oh, what a beautiful woman, isn't she. When you meet her in the corridors of the lair of Valorant, you look at her with admiring eyes. You're in love with her, it's very obvious, and almost the entire staff knows it. You're sitting in the canteen. Omen is cutting the branches of his little tree, and you are surfing the Internet from your laptop. You're bored. Until she came. You couldn't take your eyes off her, your eyes are shining like a bright star on a dark night, full of love! Reyna is looking to you. She sighs. Why did you have to love her? Only….you're just a pain in the ass...right ? When you finally returned to reality, you saw Reyna sipping her coffee and talking to Omen about the contents of your next mission…. Actually, she….she's scary. She's a killing machine, but a hot killing machine. You are smiling to yourself ve…ve you can hear her beautiful voice. Is she calling to you?

"Y/N. I asked you a question."

"H-huh? Huh, yeah? I was watching a video, I didn't hear it."

You're a terrible liar.

"Come with me."

She called you. She wanted to meet with you in private!!! You went with her to a nook and cranny. Suddenly she pushed you against the wall. Her touch was neither hard nor soft.

"Do you think I don't know?"

"T-that you don't know what!?"

"The whole staff knows. Fools don't know, am I an idiot, Y/N?"

"H-no! S-it's just that I-"

She put her index finger on your lips.

"Shhh. Don't shout too much, we'll get caught."

There's a sly expression in her eyes, she's making fun of you, isn't she? Her lips are inches away. You feel her warm breath on your face and you get goosebumps.

"I'm going to try something, don't scream, don't faint, okay, sweetie?"

And that's when she pressed his lips to yours, she was teasing, wasn't she-!? She couldn't have kissed you willingly. You felt like you were going to die. You arebeing kissed by your crush and expected to stay calm? Your body feels like a cage to your heart, you don't even know how fast your heart beats per second. When you return to reality, you return the kiss. You can feel Reyna's grin on your lips.

R:"She's so sweet, so naive. It's a shame it's not mine, isn't it?"

Y/N:"I- is that so?"

She silences you with the kiss, her hands explore your entire body and- wait a minute. This… It's Fade!? It was too late when you realised that she was standing there, watching the initimate moments between you two.

F: I'm going to- I'm going to pretend I didn't see it, okay?

How long has he been there? Damn, this is so embarrassing! But it's Junky for Reyna.

"F-fade please don't tell anyone I-"

"Are you embarrassed, sweetie? It doesn't matter anymore, you're mine, okay, honey?"

She grinned at you, and you wondered what kind of good things might happen to you after that. But it wasn't going to be very good, because love had blinded you.

#valorant x reader #valorant #reyna x reader #valorant reyna #fluff

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loneberry · 1 year

Text

Baby's First Meditation Retreat

…attention is prayer. —Simone Weil

It would be simpler—the monastic life would be so much simpler. Wake, pray, meditate, do battle with the ego, eat, sleep—live such that everything inessential is stripped away. Why did you come here, I said, I’m tired of living a distracted life, of going through my days in a fog of unawareness.

In Cambridge, MA I attended a meditation retreat. I signed up on a whim, out of a vague feeling that I have lost control of my mind. I have been meditating very casually for the last nine years, mostly using the Calm app, listening to Tara Brach recordings, and attending guided meditations while a grad student. I had come to the practice out of desperation, in the midst of a debilitating depression that made me feel perpetually tormented by my thoughts. During that time, I would voraciously read every study I could find on depression treatments and tried basically every treatment modality out there: neurofeedback, ketamine, therapeutic yoga, medication, CBT, DBT, fish oil, an anti-inflammatory diet, psychedelics, and the “treatment” that ultimately saved me: intensive psychoanalysis four days a week. Meditation seemed a particularly promising and low-risk way to manage depression and anxiety—and yes, it did bring me some relief, working as a kind of supplement to the psychoanalysis. Even though I haven’t been as consistent about it as I would have liked, I continued to practice it regularly, usually for about 10-20 minutes a day. Not once have I regretted meditating, though when life gets busy it’s easy to tell yourself that you just don’t have the time to sit and do nothing, even though we seem to somehow always have the time to mindlessly surf the internet.

What is there to say. I’m just so tired of living on autopilot, of not having to face the moment, to face myself. There are a million ways to blot out one’s internal monologue, filling up our days with the background chatter of podcasts or social media.

The recrudescence of my Simone Weil mania has forced me to reflect on attention—that rare quality of mind which is increasingly in short supply. And yet everything is a matter of attention—not because attention can be instrumentalized to achieve one’s goals. No. Attention is the end in itself. Weil: “We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will.” It’s in that second-to-second awareness that reverence for the moment blossoms. The fog is lifting. Here is the trembling world, a cloud passing, the dancing light on the pavement as the sun passes through the rustling leaves of the tree. Weil: “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love.”

I landed in Boston late Friday night and early the next morning was off to the Zen center for the silent two-day retreat. I really did not know what to expect when I signed up. I knew a little about the different schools of Buddhism from studying it in a course as an undergrad. I remember being slightly afraid of “Zen” (or Chan) in particular because it seemed so severe to me. I imagined interminable zazen sessions, without guidance or visualizations; imagined slouching pupils getting whacked with sticks for bad posture or falling asleep. Yet surely if I were to test the Buddhist waters, I should do Zen/Chan since it is a specifically Chinese tradition? My father’s uncle was a Buddhist monk who wandered the mountains of China. I don’t know anything about him, other than his sister (my grandma) was devastated when he died after getting hit by a train. Whether it was suicide or just a manic pixie monk moment, I do not know.

Some meditation retreats are completely secular—they are just like a series of long, guided mindfulness sessions, with the context, rituals, and “religious” dimensions stripped away. This was not really that kind of retreat. There were robes, chants in Korean, elaborate meal rituals, and yes, getting whacked with a stick! Of course it is always possible to opt out of getting hit with the keisaku stick—I thought I would, but in the end I took the whacking almost every time it was offered, partly because it jolted me awake and relieved the tension building up in my body from hours and hours of sitting cross-legged on a cushion. The first couple of times the keisaku whacking was administered, I had to restrain myself from laughing. Oh my God, we’re getting whacked by a Buddhist master! In the orientation the instructor said it was for “tension release” but I did feel that it was something like a ritual of submission to the authority of the teacher, even if it didn’t really hurt. Watching how eagerly D. bowed to receive the stick in the orientation, I wondered if the Zen pupils were secretly sadomasochists.

Constitutionally, I am not a “joiner” and have an aversion to organized religion and anything that emits even a whiff of cult vibes. I’ve always been critical of authority and incapable of following rules, possibly because I didn’t have any growing up. But there was something soothing about how regimented everything was. We performed our actions in sync, chanted about emptiness at 4:30am. The whole experience felt almost militaristic, but a part of me enjoyed the austere, disciplinary atmosphere and the obsessive attention to detail. Not disciplinary in a punitive sense, but disciplinary in the way I imagine Russian classical music training to be: the methodical pursuit of self-mastery (it’s hardly surprising that the Zen master I received instruction from was a classically trained pianist). During the retreat I concluded that more discipline would be good for me.

Most of the retreat consisted of meditating in silence. There was no small talk, no psychobabble, no “now we will get started…”—he just hits the wooden clapper three times, and the sitting session starts. No guidance, no body-scan, no loving-kindness prompts. Just you, seated cross-legged on the cushion in silence, facing the tumult of your chaotic mind, your hands in the Dhyana Mudra position, your eyes half-closed.

It is a profound and difficult experience, having to face your own mind…both utterly banal and deeply disturbing, thoughts flitting from “maybe I should try to find a used bicycle on the OfferUp app” to thoughts of my parents’ mortality. I was warned by the Zen teacher that difficult emotions might bubble up. Thrice I broke out into tears and strained to regain my composure. It began during one of the short breaks, when I was lying on a bench outside looking up at the sky, imagining that a passing cloud was a life appearing briefly before dissipating. It was an unmediated confrontation with the eternal flux of the universe—pure panta rhei.

Weil: “Whatever frightful thing may happen, can we desire that time should stop, that the stars should be stayed in their courses? Time’s violence rends the soul: by the rent eternity enters.” Time’s violence has utterly and completely ripped apart my soul. I wanted to hold onto everyone and everything I love, for the stars to be stayed in their courses, for time to stop, for my parents to live forever. I thought about Mari Ruti’s rapid decline and death, about my recent visit to my older brother in prison, and my trip to my relatives’ assisted living home, where my mother’s cousin has been completely waylaid by the rapid onset of Parkinson’s disease. I thought about my father sitting down in the chair looking out the window at the assisted living home, talking about getting old, how his knees ache now. Time’s violence rends the soul.Will I be strong enough to face the eternal flux, the impermanence of everything I love, with a fierceness that borders on madness, grieving even the eventual death of the Sun? Sitting on the cushion meditating, crying: let go. Will I ever be able to let go with grace? Don’t know. Sink into don’t-know mind. Count the breath. Something passes through me.

What did I see, what did I hear—I heard every exhibit of the Museum of Jurassic Technology: the voice imploring us to follow the chain of flowers into the mysteries of life, the burbling waters of the miniature model of Iguazú Falls, a recording of David Wilson talking about exploding dice, the distant echoes of barks in the bestiary room, the mournful sound of the duduk in Djivan Gasparyan’s “Lovely Spring” playing the Sandaldjian room, Monteverdi’s “Lamento della Ninfa” as I ascend the stairs to the sublime courtyard, Bach’s “Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ” in the ‘Ecstatic Journey of Konstantin Tsiolkovsky’ exhibit (impossible not to see the levitation scene from Tarkovsky’s Solaris when hearing BWV 639), Mihály Víg’s “Valuska” in The Borzoi Kabinet Theater at the end of the day, and the sound of David’s nyckelharpa reverberating in the garden.

Now the birds of the mind are taking flight.

In, out. In, out. Return to the breath.

The mind opening like a door to the sky

a deep purple flower unfolding in the emptiness.

List everything you see, her feet standing on the lotus.

Clear mind

Don’t know.

(In) 1-2-3-4 (out) 5-6-7-8

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ ἐλέησόν με

The heart

The spherical heart of the manatee

Thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts

like waves, saturating the swash zone of the mind…

It’s the weekend of the Perseid meteor shower. Eight years ago, Ed and I watched them from the dock of a Maine pond. We had rented an Airbnb from a man with the same name as a dear poet friend of mine, Dana Ward. (I was dreaming of Dana when I woke up this morning.) A week after the Maine trip, I was at the mental hospital. I had forgotten I had a poetry reading. The woman organizing it called, wondering where I was.

Eight years have passed me in the blink of an eye.

Thoughts.

out

In 10-30 second intervals: nothing. Just the space between thoughts.

There were two states of non-self:

one of calm neutrality—just the is-ness of the world.

The other, something more ecstatic:

a mystical amnesia, when you become the contraction and expansion of the breath.

What is there to say about it? In my stead there was a heaving purple cloud floating in a black room.

Then, the “I” coheres again. Head so full of language, thinking about everything I want to write. “I shouldn’t be so attached to my thoughts.” The teacher says in the interview: it’s not about suppression.

Writers are fundamentally hoarders of thoughts. I try to collect each one, as the squirrel does the acorns. In my head I am writing an essay about the antidepressant withdrawals, my astonishment that I did not relapse as David Foster Wallace did when he committed suicide after tapering off his antidepressant. I remember when my thoughts were stuck on the “I want to die” loop, how Ed installed the ad blocker on my internet browser because he was disturbed by the suicide hotline targeted ads. I do not think such thoughts anymore. Maybe it is true—we are not our thoughts. They pass through my mind like water through the sieve. Did Woolf train herself to observe the stream? Too much thinking. I must be doing it wrong. Wrong again—I’m supposed to suspend judgment.

I hear my friend Tim saying, “the mathematics section is the most mystical part of the library.”

Then Weil says, “As soon as we have a point of eternity in the soul, we have nothing more to do but to take care of it, for it will grow of itself like a seed. It is necessary to surround it with an armed guard, waiting in stillness, and to nourish it with the contemplation of numbers…”

Now I’m thinking about the relationship between math and mysticism, about the Indian number theorist Srinivasa Ramanujan, who received, in his dreams, thousands of formulas from the Hindu Goddess Namagiri. Ramanujan: “An equation for me has no meaning unless it expresses a thought of God.”

I remember my poem “Umbra,” in which I reference the French mathematician Alexander Grothendieck’s strange book, La Clef des Songes (‘The Key of Dreams’). As one commenter puts it: “It’s a book about God. Grothendieck’s thesis is simple. We meet God in dreams. But we aren’t ourselves dreaming God, rather God Himself is dreaming us. Or better: according to Grothendieck ‘a Dreamer’ exists, an external force who ‘dreams our dreams’ and at the same time dreams us. And this force can only be God. … he declares, in a little footnote that it’s almost hidden, that mathematics wasn’t ‘created by God’ nor by man, but by an aspect of God’s nature that, unique among his attributes, is accessible to human reason.”

A week ago, I was telling Alex about Oppenheimer’s mysticism, his proficiency in Sanskrit and intensive study of the Bhagavad Gita, his “feeling for the mystery of the universe that surrounded him almost like a fog.” I watched Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer biopic with Alex—a mathematician/mathematical physicist—and my father—an almost-physicist who immigrated to the U.S. from Taiwan to do a physics PhD in Wyoming but dropped out after his first year to move to NYC to wait tables at a Chinese restaurant. After the film, we watched a documentary about Sir Isaac Newton’s heretical theology and alchemical studies, how he read the Bible as a cryptogram and determined the world will end in 2060.

Could there be a connection between mathematics and the capacity for the divine, between the abstraction of mathematical thinking and the ability to sense the invisible, to see the hidden points that connect disparate realms? Wasn’t Einstein a Spinozist?

Scraps of language jostle around in my mind like a shaking bowl of coins. Stupid thoughts like, “Lacan is to psychoanalysis as Zen is to Buddhism.”

I see myself thinking about the news, about geopolitics and the madness of nation states. China is preparing their population for war, as are we. A kind of nausea overcomes me, as I see the whole nuclear age unfurl before me.

We dwell on whatever we expose ourselves to, the articles we read, the people we see, the people we lurk online, the reflex to compare, to repeat the name of the Other like a mantra.

Everything you think you need, you don’t actually need.

A butterfly has somehow flown into the Dharma room. It flits on the floor in the middle of the room. The teacher scoops it up and brings it outside. She corrects my dreadfully sloppy attempt to perform the meal ritual. I panic because I’ve taken too much food and must eat every last crumb. The pear is not ripe, and it is a torture to eat the whole thing. The pear is not ripe—a Zen lesson! Mastication of the unripe pear, a kind of koan.

There was a short break. I decided to walk around Central Square, without a wallet or phone or headphones.

How can I describe the sense of aliveness I felt in that moment, that alert receptivity, when I looked at the sky and saw the birds of Central Square taking flight above the Greek Orthodox Church? I walked up the stairs—some ceremony is taking place inside. Down the streets, there’s a brunch spot I never knew about in the seven years I lived in this town. There’s the sound of a busker, so sweet, and a flower shop I wandered into. There’s the bus stop I would wait at on my way to psychoanalysis. I cross the street. Emanating from a building on Mass Ave is the rhythmic thud of Latin American music—it must be the music-dance sessions my ethnomusicologist friend told me about years ago.

Before dawn on the second day, we perform 108 prostrations. It turns my legs to Jell-O. When I walk up the stairs to use the bathroom, I have to grasp the banister to drag myself up. A few days later I can still barely walk from the soreness caused by the rapid-fire prostrations. Was there something off about my form? I noticed that the others relied more on their arms to hoist themselves up, while I relied almost exclusively on my legs.

And yet I quite enjoy prostrating myself. Outside of any religious or ritual context, I sometimes find myself spontaneously performing prostrations—to what or whom, I do not know. To the earth? I like to kiss the ground, to give thanks to this marvelous rock on which we all dwell.

The interview with the Zen teacher takes a bizarre turn: she asks me questions about DeSantis, in a ‘liberals-trying-to-commiserate’ kind of way. My hatred of DeSantis is bottomless—I had just flown in from Florida the night before the retreat. Please, anything but a DeSantis koan! She asks me if it annoys me that she has been correcting my attempt to execute the meal ritual. I say, No, I don’t mind being an amateur, and crack a joke about being an adult music learner. When the short interview is over, I return to the silence of the Dharma room.

Sitting in silence for long periods is much harder than it looks. Yet the second day feels easier than the first day, despite being on day three of almost no sleep. Toward the end of the retreat, I stare at a spot on the floor, convinced it is a moving bug. It jiggles and jerks, walks in a circle, but always seems to return to the same spot. I can’t stop observing the bug. At the end of the sit, I lean in to get a closer look only to realize it’s not a bug at all, but a dark spot in the wood flooring.

When the retreat is over, there’s the shock of hearing everyone’s voices, of realizing you had projected otherworldliness on people who are just people in the way you are just a person. We sit in a circle and take turns sharing our experiences. I say, “I came on a whim…because I watched YouTube videos about Buddhism with my dad.” We eat vegan pie at the table. The girlfriend of the man sitting next to me has come to meet him, with roses.

I grab my backpack, put on my Blundstones, and leave the center, in the soft afterglow of the mind’s clearing. What did it feel like: I had no desire to look at my phone. Turning on my phone was almost painful, and yet I needed to call the friend I was staying with. I met up with the religious studies poets, felt more present with others, more natural. We tried to go to the Harvard Film Archive to watch Ozu but were turned away for arriving late. We sat on a rooftop terrace to watch the sunset, with a view of the two spires of Harvard Yard, Memorial Church and Memorial Hall. Sun through the leaves, perceived crisply, as though a layer of mediation had been removed.

#meditation #buddhism #Zen Buddhism #mysticism #chan buddhism #mathematics #Simone Weil #attention

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mochiimadness · 2 years

Note

Uhh if you’re available, can you do the turtles’ s/o as a jiganshi (a Chinese zombie girl) and how they would react if she could fight?

Also I love ur fanfics omg❤️❤️

Hello! I did a little bit of research before writing this, if I have gotten anything wrong or if this offends anyone, please let me know so I can fix it! I did play up the supernatural aspect more, mainly the addition of super strength that most forms of zombies seem to have.

I wasn't sure which version you wanted, so I went with the Rise!Turtles, hope that's okay!

The Turtles with a Jiganshi s/o

Neon Leon

It's not every day you meet an undead person-

Much less end up with one as your s/o

Leo was admittedly shocked at first when he first met you

He ended up making jokes ofc- his go to coping method when something unexplainable happens.

"Pleased to eat you! Get it, cause you're a zombie!"

"...I actually don't eat people-"

"Oh-"

Slightly awkward first meeting aside,

You two ended up getting along great!

Sometimes you'd even help him with his zombie puns!

Since you sleep during the day,

You often end up spending time with Leo during his insomnia fueled late nights

You try to help him sleep, but when that fails, you two are happy spending time with each other.

Sometimes, he ends up having to wake you up during the day for various reasons

Enemy fights, watching a movie, pizza dinners-

Whatever the reason, he'd usually say;

"Hey, does waking you up count as raising the dead?"

Leo.

He has a point though...

Leo thinks that you're cool!

Though, he never expected that you could fight

Not that he doesn't think you aren't strong or anything-

It's just that, as a Jiganshi, your limbs are incredibly stiff.

He's seen you struggle to bend down to pick something up

And you literally have to hop everywhere because you can't bend your knees enough to walk.

So, when he saw you literally leap to his rescue, he was worried to say the least.

"Wait S/O don't-!"

Only- you're actually fighting these yokai with no problem???

While you may not be able to walk or run- your hops are incredibly strong

You're spinning with your arms straight out like some sort of zombie fan, smacking opponents away with surprisingly strong blows,

Leo's sitting there with his jaw hitting the floor

By the time you're finished smacking those yokai unconscious, Leo's barely gotten up

Who could blame him? He's in shock

"...So..."

"... you can weaponize the t-pose???"

Leo

He's not wrong though.

After his initial shock,

He's absolutely thrilled!

Not only can you fight, but the way you fight makes for a fun experience!

He definitely asks you to fight with them more often

Overall, you two end up having a blast!

Don Tron

Donnie couldn't believe his eyes when he met you

You are literally something from myths and fiction

A creature of science fiction even!

A living corpse!!

Of course, he had to speak to you-

And also ask some incredibly personal questions

"How is it that you're unable to walk, but can still hop?"

"Do you eat people and/or brains??"

"How did you reanimate???"

Donnie pls-

Q&A first meeting aside, you both end up bonding quite well!

You do answer any questions you can, and he does tone it down if it ever gets to be much

He's just excited!

As a Jiganshi, you're pretty nocturnal

Which works well with Donnie, as he usually stays up late building or just surfing the internet

When he found out that you usually sleep in a coffin, he was horrified

How could you sleep in something so uncomfortable??

He immediately built you a rather spacious coffin equipped with the softest sheets and pillows

It's like sleeping in a silky soft cloud!

Because you have to hop everywhere, and can't really lower your arms, he builds some mechanized leg and arm braces for you!

While it's still hard to actually bend your limbs, it does help a lot

Now you can actually walk!

It's still easier for you to hop everywhere though, but you appreciate the gesture and use the braces every now and then.

Like Leo, Donnie never really expected you to be able to fight.

It's not really something he ever really thought to think of- rightfully so

But one day, during a fight with the purple dragons- Donnie's tech had been turned against him

His brothers were still on their way, and Donnie was struggling against the onslaught of his own inventions.

Just when he thought he was about to be hit with his own weaponized drone-

You appeared from seemingly out of thin air-

Thankfully you had gone with him to receive a supposed 'Genius Award' (which ended up just being a trap set by the Purple Dragons)

You plummeted from the sky after leaping into the air, crashing down onto the drone-

It shattered

Donnie doesn't know whether to be impressed or devastated over the destruction of his beloved drone.

Until he realized you were quite literally fighting and smashing his battle made weapons with scarily ease

Effectively crumpling them like they were nothing but foil paper.

"OH MY BANANA PANCAKES!"

After the battle, and a few tears over the loss of his tech, Donnie was going a mile a minute

"How were you able to stop my tech so easily?"

"Due to always having to hop, have you somehow gained enough strength to leap that high?? Or is that a supernatural side effect???"

"Do you think you could possibly stop an oncoming vehicle-"

You may or may not end up fighting more often or getting roped into strength tests.

Mystic Mike

We all know Mikey is terrified of ghosts-

When he first met you, he had mistaken you for one

He may or may not have shattered nearby windows by shrieking

After clearing up the misunderstanding, and informing him that you were actually a Jiganshi, he's much calmer!

Though, at first, he's still a bit scared

"You won't try to uh- eat me- right?"

"Oh, don't worry, I don't eat people!"

Phew-

"I eat the qi (life force) of others!"

W h a t

After an existential crisis, and many, many reassurances that you wouldn't eat his qi (or his loved ones qi), you and Mikey get along well!

Mikey often hops along with you!

You both have challenges involving how high or far you can jump

Of course, you always win

Mikey does beat you during flips or harder parkour though.

Out of all the brothers, despite his fear of the paranormal, Mikey has no problems seeing you eat

He walked in on you once draining the life force out of a creature, and just smiled and asked;

"Hey, do you wanted to watch movies after you're done? I got the blankets and pillows ready :3"

Very supportive

When you first end up fighting in front of him, Mikey isn't actually surprised at the fact that you can fight

What surprises him is how well you can fight

He always knew you were strong, small instances of accidentally cracking the ground or chipping the wall never went unnoticed by him,

But you were surprisingly quick with your movements.

You're hopping around rapidly, confusing your opponent's then knocking them off balance

"Go S/O go!"

Mikey's cheering on the sidelines, watching you go

And of course, he's always there to watch your back just in case

Not that you need it often

But it's still nice to have him be there!

You two enjoy fighting together

Mikey often flings enemies towards you, which you knock aside or crash down on

The scariest part is that you two are usually smiling or laughing so sweetly with each other.

If this was an anime, would both have starry eyes and flowers surrounding y'all

Enemies sprint away

Big Red

Raph couldn't believe his eyes when he first saw you

You were just minding your own business, hopping along

The hopping might've been excused as something normal, maybe you just had a lot of energy

Or maybe you were doing some sort challenge

Y'know, something believable

But there was also the fact that you are a sentient zombie

Then again, Raph had seen stranger things in life.

After getting to know you, Raph fell hard.

If you ever get tired of having to hop around everywhere, Raph will gladly carry you!

Or if you have trouble reaching anything, he'll make sure to get it for you

Very kind and considerate

Not that he doesn't think you can do things on your own,

After all, he knows you're more than capable of handling your own

But it's nice to have help every now and then

And if it ever gets to be much, let him know!

He won't get offended and backs off

Just wants to make sure you're doing alright ^^

Being the big ol' worrywart that he is,

Raph is concerned about you being anywhere near a battle

Much less being in one.

He won't lie,

He never expected that you could fight so well

You have trouble grabbing snacks that are too high or low for you to reach

So how would you fare in a fast pace battle??

It was a huge shock for Raph when he first saw you fight

"Wait- S/O get outta of here! It aint safe!!"

Genuinely thought he wouldn't be able to reach you in time

You were about to be sent flying!

But you ended up sending the mutant flying instead???

Cue Raph staring, frozen, in shock

Turns out, you're more than capable of fighting

And damn can you fight!

You're dodging and weaving,

Getting mutants to accidentally hit themselves instead

Then hitting them with a powerful flying kick!

Raph's jaw drops as the mutant goes flying through a wall

After the fight, he profusely apologizes for thinking you couldn't fight

"I really hope I didn't offend ya! I swear that wasn't my intention-"

Very sweet and genuinely worried that he offended you

After that, he's never once doubted you couldn't hold your own

In fact,

You two often fight together!

You both end up causing a bit of property damage...

But you two are smiling at the end of the battle,

So, no worries about the rubble around y'all!

Hello! I hope you enjoyed ^^

This was my first time writing about another cultures folklore creature that I wasn't super familiar with (ex: the kitsune), so I hope I did alright.

If I wrote anything wrong, please let me know! I did my best to include some of the details I read when researching the Jiganshi

Reblogs appreciated :3

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yazzberry · 2 months

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any excuse to make moodboards...

I just thought I'd share with you my personal visions for this story and the characters I'm going to be writing (honestly, I'll take any excuse to make a mood board), including their birthdays, interests, visual muses, aesthetics, etc.

If you agree with any of my visions, please let me know in the comments. I'd love to hear all your opinions and head-canons!

—୨୧—

Note: I gave all the characters the same last names as their voice actors (except for Alejandro, since they give us his last name in the show haha).

— ❥ —

Name: Courtney Lucille Barlow Birthday: October 17 (16 years old) (Libra) Interests/Hobbies: speech & debate, volleyball, reading, watching Gilmore Girls and The Vampire Diaries (guilty pleasures), student council, singing (but refuses to join the school choir), playing the piano, watching college vlogs and other youtube videos about college (her dream school is Yale) Visual Muse: (Cindy Kimberly)

— ꕥ —

Name: Bridgette Isobel Fairlie Birthday: June 25 (16 years old) (Cancer) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, marine biology, cooking vegetarian dishes, baking, crocheting (even though she's really bad at it), roller skating, riding on her bike, watching romcoms (she always cries at the happy endings), making candles, leading environmental club Visual Muse: (Sasha Pieterse)

— ❈ —

Name: Gwendolyn (Gwen) Ingrid Fahlenbock Birthday: February 8 (16 years old) (Aquarius) Interests/Hobbies: drawing in her sketchbook, painting, listening to Deftones, making playlists, binging reality TV shows (secretly loves the petty drama), painting her nails twice a week, helps make sets for school plays and stage manages, loves rainy days, smoking weed, messing with her cello, feeding stray cats Visual Muse: (Krysten Ritter)

— ♔ —

Name: Heather Saeko Wilson Birthday: January 11 (16 years old) (Capricorn) Interests/Hobbies: cheerleading, dancing ballet, keeping a following on social media, photography (she'd never admit it but she likes taking more than just selfies), watching sad romance movies and Gossip Girl, shopping, fashion, likes history (it's all just gossip), being around people (doesn't do too well alone, but would never admit it) Visual Muse: (Sandy Diana Bang)

— ✪ —

Name: Duncan Wilder Nelson Birthday: March 30 (16 years old) (Aries) Interests/Hobbies: skating, soccer, tagging graffiti everywhere (especially abandoned buildings), smoking weed, teaching his dog (Petey) tricks, loves late-night drives, listening to grunge rock, watching old movies, playing the drums, secretly likes going to vintage bookstores and record stores, loves a good Oreo McFlurry, secretly really good at math Visual Muse: (Zario Bolanos)

— ༄ —

Name: Geoff Bartol Petronijevic Birthday: December 3 (16 years old) (Sagittarius) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, wakeboarding, water polo, lacrosse (and is actually really good at it), partying, comedy movies, listening to house music and international music (especially eastern European), cooking for friends, is determined to throw a Project X-level party someday, actually really likes pottery and clay-making Visual Muse: (Brad Pitt)

— ✼ —

Name: Trent Theodore McCord Birthday: April 26 (16 years old) (Taurus) Interests/Hobbies: playing the guitar, listening to all genres of music, watching and reviewing great films (loves Letterbox'd), reading, writing songs and poems, surfing the internet, taking care of his little sisters when his mom isn't home, driving to scenic spots for song inspiration and some peace of mind, working a shift at the local daycare center Visual Muse: (Logan Lerman)

— ҉ —

Name: Alejandro Matías Burromuerto Birthday: August 13 (16 years old) (Leo) Interests/Hobbies: soccer, beach volleyball, singing, student council, theater and drama, posting on social media, flirting with random girls (but never seeing it through), partying, watching black & white films, always seeks to outshine his brother (often doesn't succeed), tutoring others (is really strong in all subjects) Visual Muse: (Xavier Serrano)

friendly reminder that this is all for my story now posted on wattpad and fanfiction.net, ENDGAME.

#total drama #total drama au #total drama fandom #total drama fanfiction #td courtney #td bridgette #td gwen #td heather #td duncan #td trent #td geoff #td alejandro #aleheather #duncney #td gwent #gidgette

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emophil1981 · 2 months

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Lucky encounter

I loved to go to the mall way before my accident a few years ago.

I was 21 at that time, today I am 32. The car accident was a bit of my own fault. I was driving my car too fast and saw the lorry that hit me simply too late and couldn’t react in time to avoid a collision. My car was crushed between the lorry and a van. Thankfully I have no own recollection of my accident, everything just went black.

The doctors told me it was probably better that way. My arms and my left leg were crushed and intertwined with some of the metal of my car. Had I been awake, the pain would have been excruciating. My savior was an emergency doctor at the scene who had been with the military before his civilian life as an emergency doctor as I learned later. So he had seen his share of heavy wounds in the past.

He assessed the situation quickly, took charge and in a matter of one hour, he performed emergency amputations on my arms and on my left leg to get me out of the car wreck. It was a miracle, that despite the severe wounds to my three limbs I wasn’t hurt anywhere else. In the hospital they had to clean my raw amputation wounds from the scene of the accident and they decided to reamputate the wounds to avoid any infections at all. I was in an induced coma for nearly six weeks.

When I was woken up by the surgeons at first I couldn’t believe them that they had removed both of my arms right up to my shoulders and my left leg right at the hip. I didn’t have any stumps left and the doctors told me that I would probably never be able to wear any usable prosthetics. My parents were there for me but I think for them it was the hardest part, to see their only son lying in a hospital bed, maimed for the rest of his life. Disabled for the rest of his life.

But what I couldn’t tell anyone, not the surgeons or even my parents, was this weird sensation inside my head, that was telling me: finally! Finally and just by sheer luck I had achieved my ultimate dream, the dream to become a triple amputee.

I was so lucky, that the amputations they had to perform on me were exactly the ones I pretended to have, when my parents were away since I was a kid. I was always fascinated by amputees since the time when I saw that armless kid when I went to McDonald’s once in my childhood with my parents. I watched the kid, while he was eating his Big Mac by holding it perfectly between his feet and toes. I was flabbergasted how normal it seemed for him and his parents to be that he ate with his feet. The sleeves of his T Shirt were completely empty, there were no traces of any arm stumps at all. I secretly glanced at him from time to time. When he talked with his sister or his parents he even used his feet to make gestures, I was absolutely intrigued by him.

When I came home that night, I closed the door to my room and started to pretend for the first time. I was 10 years old and still playing with LEGO at that time, so I took off my socks and started to build stuff by using my feet. I became really good at it and started to learn to do more and more stuff with my feet. That continued until I was 14 or so and I found the Internet for me. By surfing the Internet and searching for amputee pictures I came across lots of pictures of triple one legged amputees and I also learned the terms devotee, wannabe and BIID. Finally I knew that I was not alone with my longing to become an amputee, but I also knew that the society wouldn’t approve or help me to fulfill my dream.

When I was 16 or 17 years old, I normally pretended to be one legged and armless. Using only my right foot I was now able to eat, drink, write, type on my phone or computer, switch channels on my remote control for my tv and I even could use the controller for my Xbox and play some video games by turning the disability settings on. In short, I was trying to live like a triple amputee. Four years later lying in the hospital my dream was at last fulfilled: I had the body I always wanted to have, I would be a triple amputee now for the rest of my life.

Some of the nurses were absolutely impressed that I started really quickly to use my right foot like a hand. The nurses told my parents how amazing they found that I accepted my new situation so fast and that I already started to use my foot to help me adapt to my new reality. Because of my extensive pretending I didn’t need much physical therapy at all. They fitted me with a state of the art electric wheelchair that had a special foot control and I didn’t even lose much time in college. A few weeks after the release from the hospital and after finishing my physical therapy programme I was back in college finishing my studies in business administration.

After my graduation I got a job at an insurance company where I still work today and in my free time I like to go to the mall and show myself to the public in all my Amputee glory. I love it when other people stare at me, the attention I get makes me sometimes feel like a celebrity and I like to show off my amputated body and my foot skills to everyone.

When I go to the mall I like to wear sweatpants and a hoodie. All my hoodies are specially altered, the sleeves are cut off and the holes are sewn shut with material from the cut off sleeves to fit my armless body just perfectly. The same is done to the left leg of my sweatpants, the pants leg is cut off and sewn shut. Normally I am barefoot but when I go to the mall I wear a white or sometimes a colored sock over my right foot. Why you ask? Because when I am having lunch or a coffee at the mall, by wearing a sock over my foot, I need to take that sock off by pulling it from my foot with my mouth, to gain access to my toes.

Lots of people are shocked when I do that right before eating something or before stirring my coffee with a spoon hold between my toes. I did that today also, I was sitting with my coffee at Starbucks, when I saw him for the first time. He looked like any regular college guy, probably in his late twenties. He wore a grey t Shirt and purple basketball shorts, his big hairy feet were sticking in two flip flop sandals and he played with them under the table. His face was clean shaven and he had high cheekbones. His hair was cut very short almost like an army haircut if you ask me. He was just sitting there, having headphones on, looking at his coffee and sipping it from time to time.

I watched him, I found it hot that he played with his feet. Then it happened. For the first time since I entered the starbucks cafe, he looked in my direction. Our eyes met and I saw something strange in his face, curiosity, lust and a smile all mixed together in that one short glance where our eyes met. Normally people don’t smile at me most of them avoid eye contact at all. That’s a first I thought, he isn’t afraid or disgusted of my body. I continued to watch him and he did it again and this time he hold eye contact and smiled at me broadly with a wide grin. I couldn’t figure it out, was he really hitting on me or was he just being nice?

When I finished my coffee, I put my sock back on on my foot with my teeth and steered my wheelchair to the exit. The guy was instantly following me. I was driving a few meters away from the entrance of the coffee shop and then I turned my chair around by pushing the foot control to its limit. He froze in front of me and did it again. He just smiled at me.

„Is it funny for you to follow me around?“ I asked him.

He froze before me and seemed a little bit shocked. He blushed.

„Mhm…no, i just saw you at Starbucks and wanted to get to now you. I think you look quite hot.“ he said to me.

I wasn’t expecting that from a good looking guy like him who could have had any woman or man. I was beginning to get turned on by the thought that I could have this good looking twentysomething kid with his adorable boy feet to play with me and have sex with.

„Are you a devotee?“ I asked him bluntly. And he just nodded, seeing that his eyes were getting a bit wet.

„Hey kiddo, no need to get upset. I know that there are guys out there who find me hot because of my rather special appearance if you like. I have no problem with that.“ I said

His broad smile came back. „What’s your name?“ I asked him. „Michael, I study at the local college and live in a dorm on campus.“ „Smart and independent, I like that in my guys.“ I laughed. He blushed again. „You are not from here, right.“ I asked. „No, just moved here with the beginning of the semester. I was at another college before.“ he answered.

„Listen Michael, my name is Tommy and I am hard as a rock right now, would you like to come with me to my place and we see where this is going between us? Because as matter of fact I glanced at you and that big hairy feet of yours the whole time in that Starbucks cafe.“ I thought I would try the direct approach with him. He blushed again, that was so sweet that he blushed all the time I thought to myself, such a big guy and so shy at the same time. He looked at his feet and then at me. „I would love to come to your place.“ he said nearly so quietly that at first I thought he didn’t say anything at all. „Alright then, follow me. I live not very far from here. We can talk some more on the way.“. He nodded and grinned again.

While we were going back to my place I got to know him a little better. He was studying to become an engineer. He also told me, that he discovered that he was gay in highschool and that he was into amputees which confused him at first but with the help of the Internet he came to terms with him being an amputee devotee. „Have you ever met an amputee before in real life Michael?“ I asked him. „No I never had the courage, but I really wanted to ask you. You only were too quick and caught me off guard first.“ he said.

„Here we are.“ I said when we reached my accessible apartment complex. We went into the lobby and up to my apartment. When I was standing before my door, I thought to myself, why not involve Michael right here on the hallway. „Michael, would you be so kind and pull my sock off real quick, it’s easier for me to grab my keys with my bare toes, you know.“ a lie, but I wanted to test him how he reacted. I stretched my sock clad foot out in front of him, and without hesitation he pulled the sock from my foot. Out of the corner of my eyes I looked at him. He was standing there, holding the sock a little bit too close to his chest and to his nose. And he took two or three deep breaths, probably deeper than normal. I knew it, I thought to myself. An amputee and a foot fetish, that footplay of him under the table in the Starbucks cafe gave him away.

I grabbed my keys out of the utility pocket on my wheelchair and opened the door to my apartment. I put the keys back in the special pocket on my wheelie and drove the chair back to its special power station right beside the door inside my apartment. „You can come in Michael, don’t stand there in the hallway.“ „Thank you, where shall I put the sock?“ he asked holding the sock still in his hands. He was such a sweet and polite young man. „Oh just put it on the sideboard there. Thanks.“ I said. I watched him from my wheelchair. He was very considerate and took his flip flops off before he entered my apartment. „You can put your sandals beside the door there.“ I pointed to the corner with my foot. He closed the door, put his sandals in the corner and the sock on the sideboard. He was nervous.

I smiled to break the ice. „So, now it’s time to get out of this baby here.“ I looked at my wheelchair while saying that. „Sorry but, can I help you with that?“ he asked a bit shy. I thought for a moment. Normally I was absolutely independent. But here was a young devotee, offering his assistance. „Oh Michael, you are so cute. Of course you can help me getting out of my wheelchair.“ I told him, still smiling. He blushed again, his cheeks red as an apple. „Ok here is how you do it. I am putting my foot in front of the chair, then you will put your one Hand around on my back and the other one onto my stomach, just above my crotch. And then when I stand up you stabilize me and help me keep my balance. Then you will walk beside me while I hop to the living room.“ Michael was nodding and looked really concentrated while he fulfilled the task I gave him. It was so sweet to see how eager he was to help me, how committed he was. I nearly felt a bit bad about seducing this devotee guy.

I stood up and he softly put his big hands on me. I noticed that he was taller than me, but I liked that. A young guy to protect me, I thought. I faked a bit that I had problems holding my balance, so that he had to grab me a bit firmer. I looked up at him and smiled when I was standing on my right bare foot firmly. „Michael my right foot is a bit sweaty, so I will take smaller hops than usual because I fear I might slip on my floor tiles in the hallway, ok?“ „Ok, I will help you with that.“ he told me. „Just walk beside me, holding and supporting me with your arm around my back ok?“ Michael did as he was told by me and I started to take smaller hops than usual to go to the living room.

When we reached the living room I went directly to my couch. I made three little hops on the spot, Michael was still holding me and than I sat carefully down. He released me. I sat there with my sweatpants and hoodie and put my foot on the couch seat as well. „Put your backpack just beside the couch.“ I said to him. He was eerily quiet. „Michael, please look at me, whatever happens tonight is fine for me. We can just sit and talk, we can watch TV, we can cuddle together, you can see my stumps if you like or we can make out. It is totally to you and how we get along ok? If nothing happens, it’s great too, ok? Please don’t feel pressured by me or the situation we are in right now.“ Michael stood there frozen for a moment. Then he started to sob. Jesus that Kid wasn’t only shy but also total emotional. „Hey, hey. Come here on the couch, stop crying please and tell me what’s on your mind.“ Michael did as he was told he sat on the couch beside me, he folded one leg under his butt the othe was dangling over the edge of the couch sweatband standing on the floor. „It’s just…I am…I am so happy, this is what I always wanted. I always wanted to be with a guy like you and I never….I never dreamed that my wish would really become true.“ „Oh Michael, you are such a sweet big boy. Come here to me and give me a good hug.“

He was leaning over on the couch, I was outstretching my right foot and put it around him on his back. It was my special hug, but he didn’t mind at all. He squeezed me in a kind of bear hug, but I liked it. We hugged for a few minutes. Then he leaned back. He blushed. „Tommy, can I…would you mind showing me…your stumps? I was fantasizing in the Starbucks the whole time what they looked like and I am really curious.“ I smiled at him, my little perky devotee frat boy I thought to myself. „Michael of course, you can have a look at them, but you need to help me undress please.“ I said. He smiled at me and nodded eagerly. He started with my hoodie, he carefully grabbed the frontside of the hoodie and pulled the hoodie over my head. To have no arms at all has it benefits. My hoodie was off in no time, I didn’t wear a t shirt and he stared in awe at my naked chest and shoulders.

He looked at my to shoulders with wide See eyes, they were pretty heavily scarred from the accident. „Do they…do they hurt you?“ he asked. I laughed „They only hurt shortly after I awoke in the hospital after my accident. It got better and today they don’t hurt at all, although they look not good. You can give them a good touch if you want to.“ I told him. When he touched them I started to twitch them both a bit. He giggled. „It feels funny when you move them. As if they have a living of their own!“ he said. I closed my eyes. „Michael it feels good if you touch them, please massage them a bit more.“ I pleaded with him. And Michael did the like and gave my stumps a good rub down. I moaned slightly while he did that.

„Would you like to see my leg stump too?“ He blushed again and bit his lower lip. „Yes.“ he said slowly. „Then pull down my sweatpants.“ Michael stopped squeezing my scarred shoulders and pulled down my trousers. I was not wearing any boxer shorts and was naked underneath the sweatpants. My half hard dick was lying on my left hip stump when Michael started to hesitantly touch the scarred hip stump. „It is so beautiful!“ Michael exclaimed when he touched the spot where my leg used to be before the accident.

I started to shiver in pure excitement closed my eyes and bit my lips. „Michael it feels so good when you touch my limbless body! Please don’t stop.“ Michael continued to touch my stump with his right hand while also massaging my chest sensuously with his left. He started to play with my left nipple. „Ahhh, Michael.“ I screamed when he pushed and rolled my nipple between his thumb and his index finger. God this kid new how to trigger a guy. My shoulder stumps were twitching uncontrollably while he played with my nipple. It was so hot.

He switched with his right hand from my leg stump to touching my dick. It’s always such a weird feeling since the accident when I feel someone’s Hand on my dick. Because I can’t touch myself anymore in that way it’s always quite odd to have a real hand on my dick again. But I enjoy this everytime so so much. Michael started slowly to pump my dick with his right hand and sped up his movements on my dick continuously. Playing with my nipples at the same time with his left. „Oh god, Michael, keep going please!“ His hand was nearly flying up and down now pumping me so hard. „Mhmmm…Michael! Rub me harder!“ I started to reach out with my right foot, I wanted to touch him, to touch his face while he was jacking me off. When I touched his left cheek, he turned his head and kissed my foot softly. Then he sucked on the big toe.

I was surprised and turned on immensely by that. Despite my foot being sweaty and smelly he licked, kissed and sniffed it. That pushed me over the edge. Michael gave my dick two more strokes and I exploded. My dick pulsated and cum was gushing out. „Oh goooood! Michael I am cuuuuummmmmiiiiing right noooow! Mhmmmmm oooooooh!“ I screamed and moaned.

My shoulder and hip stumps were twitching like hell while I squirted my huge amount of cum all over me. It hit my chin, my chest and it flowed over Michaels hand. He took his hand full of my cum in his mouth and slurped it into his mouth. Then he kissed me and I tasted my own salty cum on his lips. That was so hot, the orgasm I had was the best in months and I was so satisfied. I panted but I wanted to give Michael an orgasm as well.

He was sporting a huge tent in his shorts already. I started to fiddle with my toes and foot to get his shorts off of him. It took me a while but I succeeded at the end, with a little help from Michael who was a bit impatient. I saw that he wanted to get off as well after seeing me cum so hard all over my amputated body. He took his Shirt off himself and he was sitting in front of me in all his naked glory sporting a huge boner. He was circumcised like me. He looked down coyly on his hard dick while I started to touch his piss slit that was oozing and glistening with precum with just my big toe. I wanted to tease Michael a bit. He inhaled sharply when my big toe made contact with his slightly purple glans.

I lifted my toe again and a clear thread of precum was building between my toe and his glans. I took my toe in my mouth and licked the precum off. „You taste nice Michael.“ I put my foot back on his penis again and with my toes spread, I started to jack him off slowly. It was so nice to feel his big member against my foot twitching from time to time. His breathing became stronger. „You look so hot when you give a Footjob with your amputated body, Tommy. Please keep going!“ he told me. I was rubbing his dick with my right foot faster and faster. Then I stopped and he looked surprised. „Why…?“ he wanted to start. „Shhhh…Michael, I want to feel you inside me now. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me real hard.“ I said in response.

I leaned back and I spread my leg so that I was lying with my back against the armrest of the couch looking him longingly in the eyes. Michael was coming towards him. „You can put your hands on my shoulders if you want.“ I told him. Michael looked at my butthole that was twitching in sweet anticipation of Michaels dick. He aimed at it by holding his dick and guiding it inside my anus. I felt it sting a bit but that went as Michael was slowly pushing his huge dick inside my man pussy.

God how I loved to be fucked! Michael pushed inside and out in a steady rhythm while holding me at my shoulder stumps with his big hands. I was starting to moan and also my dick got hard again. Michael was in a mental tunnel now pounding away at my ass like crazy. „Mhmmm…fuck me yeah! Fuck me harder! Pleaaase!“ I screamed. „God you are so tight, Tommy! It feels so fucking good! Ah, ahh, ahh!“ Michael said while fucking me good. My dick was hard again as a rock while Michael fucked me thoroughly. I was leaking precum again.

Then it happened. Michael shifted his position slightly to the left, because there was no leg left, he fucked me suddenly at an odd angle and I was seeing stars, so to speak of. He was hitting my prostate so hard, that I feared my insides would actually tear. „Oh my god, that’s the spot, that’s it. Keep going Michael!“ he hit my prostate with the tip of his dick. Every single time he pushed in me. I was in heaven, that was the reason why I bottomed. I was nearly there already but I wanted to experience the orgasm in another way than usual. I wanted to cum just from being fucked. Fucked by this able bodied hunk, while he was holding on to my triple amputee body, squeezing my shoulders.

It made me feel so helpless, that I was surrendering to this young virile man. „Oh god Tommy I want to cum inside you so bad! Please let me cum inside you!“ Michael screamed. „Ah, oh, oh I am also nearly there Michael, please, oh god!“ I responded.

Michael pushed in one last time and shivered while he shot his hot sticky cum up into my male pussy. „Oh my gosh! I am cuuuuummmmmiiiinnng!“ Michael shouted. That pushed me over the edge. „Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.“ I squirted for a second time between the both of us. My sphincter was closing around his dick, practically milking Michael while he was still pounding my ass.

Michael kissed me passionately and slowed down. We were both breathing heavily and panting. „It was so hot to have been able to make love to you. I love how I can grab and squeeze your stumps, you are the hottest person I ever met. That made me so hot seeing you lie there without any arms and a left leg. I love you Tommy!“ Michael said.

Now it was my turn to blush.

„I love you too Michael.“ I whispered to him.

#cute twink #foot smelling #bare foot #gayboy #gay #male socks #smelly socks #socksandfeet #feetish #male amputee #amputee #leg amputee #dae amputee #triple amputee #love story #short story #story #fiction

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