#moving blogs is way too much effort so you get this instead

[unheavenlyvision]

NEW JOB

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

wc: 7.1k

summary: starting a new job is always hard, especially when you're tasked with a glorified babysitting role for the most powerful sorcerer and his antics, but what happens when you somehow find yourself growing oddly attached to his weird behaviours and teasing nature

a/n; i am obsessing over this 2d man and i cannot be stopped, come near me and i'm infecting you with thoughts of him. anyways! new blog so i can write for jjk hehehhohoh (i wrote this in a single sitting because i'm mentally unwell)

warnings: 18+ only, smut, making out, dry humping, hickeys, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, big dick gojo (duh), creampie, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, nicknames

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Why you were here, you had no clue… well you did, you just wish you didn’t have to be here but being forced to do this was putting it lightly. It’s frustrating because they act like you don’t have your own jobs to handle but now you’re being forced to be Gojo Satoru’s handler as well. This is going to be a much more taxing job than exorcising any curse, why he insisted on pissing off the higher ups is beyond you. Not that you’re completely innocent in those regards, mind you.

You’re sat waiting in Yaga’s office, waiting for a certain someone who treats showing up on time as optional. Looking at the clock behind Yaga, you see it’s bordering on 15 minutes since he was supposed to be here.

You deflate slightly with your quiet sigh, “Do I really need to be h–”

“–Yes,” is the only reply you get out of the man in front of you, eyes unreadable but based on the aura of the room, he’s beyond pissed.

Sinking further into your seat, you murmur about how annoying all of this is, it’s meant for Yaga to hear but he ignores you. Seeing Gojo is going to take years off your life, you’ve crossed paths with him many times in the past few years, he has a bad habit of interrupting your exorcisms, finishing them, and then getting on your nerves.

The door behind you slides open and shut loudly, making your heart lurch inside your chest, while you outwardly fight the urge to flinch. Gojo moves in behind you and leans down, “Didn’t scare you, did I?” There’s an annoying mirth in his tone as he carelessly rounds the seat and sits far too close to you.  

You don’t spare him a glance, “No.”

He smiles at you knowingly but says nothing more, finally addressing Yaga, “What’s up?”

“You’re late,” Yaga takes in a deep breath, fighting the urge to yell at him.

Gojo’s smile grows, his words picked carefully to piss the pair of you off more, “Well, I know that part, I meant why am I being summoned here.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why is he only being informed of this now?” You ask, irritated with not only Gojo but the whole damn system. You were told nearly two weeks ago that this was happening, how hadn’t he been told until now.

Yaga looks at you like it should be fairly obvious why they waited and you guess it is, he’s blind-sided this way, he doesn’t have a chance to wriggle out of it when today is the official first day of your new job babysitting Gojo Satoru and his first-year students. Oh, this is just perfect for you and not foreboding at all.

Before you have a chance to speak again, Yaga says, almost like he’s delighting in how inconveniencing this will be for Gojo, that, “You now have a teaching assistant, Gojo. You will be monitored as well as your students and everything will be reported back to me.”

“Ah, a glorified babysitter, how lovely,” Gojo’s smile doesn’t drop but it does look more strained.

Yaga doesn’t take kindly to his tone, “Watch it, this is fully deserved and you know it.”

“I’ve done nothing,” he defends himself.

You scoff slightly at that and Gojo side eyes you, you make an active effort to avoid his gaze though and instead focus on what Yaga is saying, “After that stunt you pulled with faking Itadori’s death recently, you’re lucky to be getting off so easy.”

Gojo jabs his thumb in your direction, “So what’s her punishment for then?”

You finally look at him, “Excuse me?”

“Well, I don’t imagine this is something one signs up for, so what did you do to piss off the higher ups,” his smile is teasing and so is his tone.

You squint at his stupid blindfold before looking back at Yaga, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yaga coughs at your statement but doesn’t let Gojo’s endless amusement at your suffering continue, “What may or may not have happened is none of your business Gojo–”

“–Ah, so something did happen then,” he elbows at your shoulder and you grumble at him.

Yaga completely ignores Gojo’s antics, “Your only concern is to be accommodating and keep her in the loop.”

He waves a hand easily, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he brushes off the conversation with a sceptical nonchalance. His palms hit his knees as he pulls himself off the seat, “Is that all?”

Yaga pauses, watching him carefully for a moment before acquiescing, “Yes, that’s all, get out.”

“Come on, troublemaker, you have three adorable first years to meet!” his tone is too chipper and you don’t take kindly to his nickname for you but you stand from the seat and bow at Yaga before following behind him.

⸝⸝⸝

You are… uncomfortable, to say the least. The three first years sit in front of you, confused and waiting for some kind of explanation but Gojo just leans against the lectern, amused smile plastered on his face. You’re nervous, children can be so… scary, they were scary when you were their age and now you’re getting stage fright, in front of three people.

Gojo giggles behind you, granting some mercy… his version of mercy anyways, “We have a new addition to the class!”

“She’s… a student?” The one you recognise as Itadori tilts his head in question.

You can hear the glee drip from Gojo’s voice, “Well in some ways–”

“–No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I am… uhm, a teaching assistant… of sorts…”

The girl, very clearly unamused, questions further, “And what are you gonna be doing?”

You freeze up, you do know what you’re meant to be doing but you’re getting shy, you’ve never been good at being put on the spot.

Gojo finally moves from behind the lectern and places a hand on your shoulder, “She’s basically… my babysitter!” He announces, large smile on his face.

The students look… completely not shocked, like they expected something like this to happen at some point.

“I am here to help though! So, if you have questions or want someone to spar against or if Gojo is unavailable and you need help on a mission, I am here to be of service,” you smile lightly, trying to be kind. If you’re going to be here, you want to be of some use.

Itadori nods in thought, “So, are you strong?”

You feel warm in the face at the question, it’s not something you’ve ever been asked really. You think you are, you’re definitely capable but you’re nowhere near Gojo.

While deep in thought, Gojo replies for you, “Yes.” His reply is simple and leaves them all with more questions.

You throw a glance at Gojo before answering for yourself, “I am capable and willing to help.”

⸝⸝⸝

Your first introductions went better than you expected, you quite like them all, even the quiet one who’s always in a bad mood. Things would’ve gone better if Gojo didn’t delight in teasing you in front of them all, it’s embarrassing to be poked and prodded at for some kind of a reaction, you mean, isn’t he meant to be an adult for crying out loud.

It’s only been about a week and a bit into you ‘babysitting’ Gojo and you think he might be attempting to annoying you into quitting but that isn’t an option for you. The kids are sparring on the open field and Gojo is at your side, poking the side of your face with a mischievous smirk plastered on his. He’s been trying and failing to get a reaction out of you for the past 10 minutes.

“Gojo, is there something you want from me, or are you just waiting for me to try and smack you,” Turning your body, you face him completely, your hands on your hips.

He shoves his hand behind his back quickly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just poking your cheek, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sighing you continue, “If you’re trying to annoy me into quitting, you’re going to find that awful difficult, I have to be here.”

“Quite the contrary, I like having you here, troublemaker,” he smiles, leaning against the tree behind him.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you grit out.

He hums lightly, “That’s just cause you’re not used to my love language.”

Raising a brow at him, you ask, “Your love language is being absurdly annoying?”

“Now you’re getting it,” he pokes you directly on your nose and you exhale sharply, twisting your lips to hide any hint of amusement. Turning back to the students you resume ignoring him, which he huffs dejectedly at, “If you’re gonna be watching over me for a while, you may as well get used to talking to me, I think I’m quite enjoyable.”

“Of course you would think that,” you retort.

“Ouch,” he grabs his chest, pretending to be wounded, he pushes off the tree and hangs an arm over both your shoulders, his weight pressing into you, “So… seriously, what did you do?” His head is turned to the side of yours, watching for your reactions.

You’re starting to feel uncomfortable at his proximity but apparently so are the others because Kugisaki turns and points at Gojo, yelling, “Don’t hang off her like that, perv!”

You stifle a laugh at her accusation, as Fushiguro rolls his eyes and grimaces.

Gojo calls out, “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” He wraps both his arms around you and pokes his tongue out at them all.

You’re squished against him and it’s making you hot, “Gojo, if you don’t peel yourself off of me in the next few seconds I’m going to rip out your tongue.”

“I don’t think you would be able to, is the thing though,” he snickers down at you, he does release you though, taking a step back.

You feel beyond annoyed and as much as you know your fist won’t connect, you go to throw a powerful punch at him anyways. It predictably gets stopped by his infinity, never even making it close to his face.

“Oh wow, you tried to punch me!” He exclaims in faux hurt, his hand reaches up to yours and unfurls your fist, instead interlacing your fingers, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack and try and hit me.”

You sigh in defeat, “Gojo, please let go of my hand.”

“Tell me what you did and I just might,” he propositions.

The kids are yelling at Gojo from the field, cursing him out for being weird, which of course, he only finds hilarious.

“Gojo,” he hums at you in acknowledgement, “Do you think if I tried really hard, and willed it to happen, that me kicking you in the balls would connect?”

He pouts at your words, apparently holding out for a different response, “Oh, how you wound me.” He drops your hand with a sigh, “Can’t be that bad, tell meeeee,” he whinges slightly, attempting a new way of annoying you, clearly.

“You’re right, it’s not that bad, but it’s way more fun not to tell you at this point,” you smile brightly at him and his eyes widen in slight shock at the display.

He continues pouting, “Cruel…”

You just shrug at him in response.

⸝⸝⸝

Every time Gojo is around, he is trying to get you to tell him why you were assigned to be his handler. You don’t tell him, you just shrug or smile like you have no idea why, you understand why he likes to tease a bit now, seeing him so upset over something so small does brighten your day just a little bit.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown fond of his company, as well as the three kids. You thought this would be more hellish, and while on some occasions it is, you quite enjoy your day to days now. Filled with his teasing tone and stupid smile, you’re feeling comfortable with them all.

Your only complaint is that, while this is what you’re expected to be doing most of the time, the fact that sorcerers are hard to come by hangs true and you are still sent on solo missions on a whim. It’s only annoying because you’re expected to come and go easily, like fighting off first-grade or high-grade curses isn’t completely taxing.

Today you enter the classroom slightly later than usual, having been absent since the middle of yesterday, you didn’t even have time to sleep, you showered and came straight here. You mumble an offhanded good morning before collapsing into a chair in the corner of the front of the class.

“Look who decided to show back up,” Gojo chirps.

“Mmm, too loud… too much… so early,” you grumble back.

Itadori asks what no one else does, “Where did you go?”

You sigh into the air, “Ah, I had a job, it’s fine though, here now,” you smile lazily.

Gojo scrutinises you from behind his blindfold, he can tell you’re tired, hell, everyone could tell you’re tired. Your head is barely staying up, almost lolling to the side, looking for somewhere to rest so you can sleep.

“Maybe you should go home,” he comments, uncharacteristically serious.

You peek an eye open at him, they had fallen closed, when did they close? “Can’t.” you mutter out, “I’m needed here, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

“You aren’t going to be able to stop me if you’re asleep,” he retorts.

“No but it won’t look as bad if I am at least here,” you cover your mouth as you yawn.

He moves over to your corner and bends down, “If I promise to behave will you go home?”

“Probably not,” you smirk up at him, “I don’t think I’d believe you.”

Kugisaki groans, “Flirt on your own time!”

You bark a laugh at that, the back and forth you have with Gojo is not how you flirt and you imagine it’s not how he does either, “Yeah, Gojo. Go away.” You say, playing into it.

His smile is light as he turns away from you, “Fine but if you complain about a backache later from sleeping in that chair it’s not my fault.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you counter.

⸝⸝⸝

You fell asleep.

You don’t know when exactly it happened, you just know it did… and that you’re embarrassed. When you startle awake in your seat, you can hear the distant noises of the students sparring and the breeze flowing through the – previously – closed windows.

“Hey, you’re up,” Gojo notices from his spot, lazing in the students desks.

You sit up a bit more, “How long–”

“–How long were you asleep?” He finishes for you, “A couple hours.”

“Why are you in here?” You ask, “Why aren’t you with the first-years?”

“The first-years are sparring with the second-years, they’re fine,” he too, sits up more, “I stayed cause I didn’t wanna leave you alone in here.”

You raise a brow at him, “That or you just didn’t wanna actually do your job today.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs easily.

“Mhm, thought so,” standing up completely, you stretch out your limbs, joints aching from sleeping in the chair.

“I didn’t think you would also be doing solo missions while being here,” he comments from behind you.

“Well… you know how shorthanded we are,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, “Plus, me being here is almost as much as a punishment for me as it is for you,” you remind.

“That’s funny, I wouldn’t say I feel punished,” he says it like it means nothing, like his feelings aren’t lingering right under the surface.

Thinking on it, you agree, “I don’t much either, I’ve been having quite a bit of fun actually,” you laugh lightly.

Gojo’s world stands still for a moment, he’s been growing addicted to how you smile, the sound of your laugh. He’s lucky for the blindfold because nearly every time he looks at you he has hearts in his eyes.

Noticing his silent staring, you grow shy, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry for falling asleep, it won’t happen again.”

He recovers quickly, “No it won’t… because next time, you’re going to go home to sleep properly before showing back up here.”

“Whatever you say, Gojo,” you play it off, not taking him seriously.

“Call me Satoru.”

You’re a little shocked, feeling like you misheard him, you clarify, “I’m sorry, what?”

He gets up from where he’s sitting, “We’ve known each other for years now, call me Satoru.”

You don’t know if you should, it feels weird, like letting him into your life more than he already is and that’s a little much for post nap you, “Maybe…”

He chuckles, “Don’t force yourself, just know, you can if you want to…”

You nod at him, suddenly feeling incredibly bashful.

⸝⸝⸝

You’re cleaning… why are you cleaning? Because you somehow got conned into having Gojo over. Its honestly impressive of him, you have no idea how he convinced you to let him into your home. You barely can even recall the conversation, something about movies, he’s somehow got your favourite movie before the DVD or streaming release.

Anyways, now you’re scrabbling around your meagre apartment, attempting to clean it up to a high standard before you have a guest over. You have time, you have enough time to clean the main areas, yourself, your bedroom… wait, your bedroom (?). Brushing off the thought, you continue your tirade, it ends with just enough time for you to make yourself look presentable.

Knocks in the form of a carefree tune are thumped into your door and you know who it is instantly, even his knocking is distinctly him. Tugging your shirt on, you call out, “Just a sec!”

Pausing in front of the door, you smooth yourself out, like you weren’t just running around like an insane person a few minutes ago, and then you open the door. The sight of Gojo is shocking, it wasn’t what you were expecting… you’ve seen him in casual clothes before, but you think you’ve gotten too used to seeing him at the school.

You mumble out, “You look nice.”

His eyes light up behind his glasses, “Why thank you, you look nice as well.” He speaks lowly on his way past you.

You stand stunned for a little, not expecting his compliment to affect you so much. He’s already walked down the hall while you stood staring at where he once was. Closing the door, you start after him, meeting him in the lounge room.

“You ready?” He asks.

You nod your head, waiting for him to show how he accrued the movie.

“Ta da!” He shows the usb stick, presumedly holding the movie.

You sigh at his jovial display of piracy and grab the thumb drive off him. Gojo makes himself comfortable on the couch while you plug it into the tv.

“You have a cute apartment,” he hums, looking around from where he’s sitting.

Grabbing the remote, you switch through the tv’s sources and search for the content on the stick, “Thank you… I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” he affirms.

You flop down next to him on the couch, “We good to start? Or do you have more to say?”

“I always have more to say,” he grins.

“I’ve noticed,” you snark back, beginning the movie anyways.

It starts off good, the movie’s quality isn’t great but it’s good enough to enjoy the content of the film. That is… until the halfway mark and then the quality drops significantly and you can’t even tell what’s happening on screen anymore, everything fuzzy and words mumbled, almost robotic.

You suppress a smile, “Gojo… where did you get the movie?”

“…Online somewhere… I watched the first few minutes and it looked fiiine,” he’s whinging slightly, disappointed in the sudden quality drop.

You can’t help but laugh at his complete dismay, “It’s fine, Gojo, at least I got to see some of it?” You try looking on the bright side, “You’ll just have to buy me a real copy when it comes out.”

“Is that another invitation?” He teases.

You look over to him, “Another? I barely remember giving out this one.”

“That hurts, you know?” He pouts at you.

You can’t help the way your face breaks out in a smile, “It is.” He looks at you confused, “An invitation,” you finish.

His pout breaks into a large smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked me.”

“Ah, you’re beginning to grow on me,” you torment lightly.

He nods his head solemnly, “Knew I would.”

You scoff at him, only now realising how close he’s gotten to you, your knees touching, his face so close to your own. You go to look away from him, feeling self-conscious, but his hand reaches up and pulls your face back to continue the intense eye contact.

“If I kiss you right now, will you try and punch me again?” He jokes, trying to relieve the tension.

You find a place inside you that outweighs your anxiety, “Only one way for you to find out.”

He leans in that tiny bit more and captures your lips in his, the kiss tender and gentle, he’s searching, learning. He doesn’t want to scare you away, wanting to kiss you for so long and not willing to ruin it by spooking you now. It took him so long just to work up the courage to get inside your apartment, he doesn’t want you to pull back when you’ve finally stepped towards him.

He parts first, hesitant, if he keeps kissing you, it won’t stay innocent because he really wants to kiss you until you cry.

You repress a whine at the loss of him, “Wait…” You trail off, embarrassed by how badly you want him to keep kissing you.

“Yeah?” He presses, wanting to hear you ask him for it.

“Can… you kiss me again,” you ask, before adding, “please?”

It’s too good to be true, he’s dreaming… but even if that’s the case, he’s sure as hell not wasting this moment, “Anything for you~”

Leaning back in, he kisses you with more fervour, his lips more insistent, desperate. His one hand stays on your face, angling you so he can kiss you deeper, he wants more, more. The other hand reaches for your hip, tugging and pulling at the fat there, groping your skin greedily.

Your moans and whimpers muffle into his mouth, he swallows them down, licking into your mouth, silently asking for more. Which, you give, you think you’d give him the world right now if you could. His kisses are dizzying and full. You’ve not been kissed like this… ever and it’s overwhelming you in an embarrassing way.

Pulling back, you rush out, “Wait wait…”

Gojo freaks a little, “Shit– sorry, was it too much?”

You shake your head, “No, well…maybe, I’ve just… never been kissed like that before, I was feeling dizzy.”

He breathes a sigh of relief before targeting you with a teasing smile, an evil glint in his eyes, “I’m kissing you dumb, huh?”

You feel hot, everywhere, “I–”

Your defence is cut off with this lips back on yours, he’s drunk on your kisses and he’s not going to stop. Knowing that he’s overwhelming you with them only spurs him on, he wants you to be so stupid because of his lips, he thinks he couldn’t want anything more than that right now.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer; he lets it happen and falls into you, pressing your back into the couch. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him down into you more, desiring the proximity. His front presses into yours and you both moan into each other.

He trails kisses from your lips to the side of your face, down to your neck, his teeth nipping lightly, sucking into your skin, leaving marks behind, not really caring about how you’ll struggle to cover them tomorrow. You gasp into him and raise your hips, grinding into him without meaning to. The friction has him groaning into the skin of your neck.

His large hand grabs at the thickest part of your thigh, grabbing and pulling your covered cunt closer to his clothed dick. His hips dig down into yours, humping into you and trying to fight off the urge to cum in his pants at the minimal amount of stimulation.

He huffs against your sensitive skin, “Bet you’re so fucking wet, fuck–”

“Gojo–”

He cuts you off, “­–Lemme… lemme touch you more, please.”

You nod at him, eyes glassy from how he kissed you, “Uh huh, do– do whatever you want~”

His hand is immediately leaving your thigh and reaching into the front of your pants, under your panties and through your dripping folds, a shiver running down his back as he groans deeply. He had a feeling you were wet but fuck– he wasn’t expecting this.

You sob a moan into the collar of his shirt where you’ve tucked your head, his fingers glide through your slick, teasing you, lightly grazing your clit.

His tone is light, “So eager~”

“Don’t t–tease, it’s unkind,” you try to chastise him.

He smiles at you, it’s dark but full, as a single finger probes at your entrance, slipping in carefully, aided fully by the amount of slick that gushes from your pussy, “So messy,” he hums, nosing the side of your face, giggling at the whimper you let out.

“Gojo–”

“–I think…” his finger slips to the hilt, pulling back before fucking back in, wet squelching sounding through your small apartment, “…I’ve earned Satoru, when I’m knuckles deep in your pretty, little cunt.”

If you thought you were hot before, you definitely were now, “Satoru, please.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” his cock jerks in his pants at the sound of you finally calling him by his name.

Your small gasps and sighs are setting his skin on fire, a light flush dusting his features, he still wants more from you, he wants to hear it all, he wants to feel it all, he wants to see it all. Deciding he’s had enough of your clothes, he slips his finger from deep in your cunt, which results in the prettiest, wrecked sound coming from you.

“Just a sec, need these off…” he tugs your pants down and off, leaving you in your panties, he hums in thought at you, “…These are cute,” he points out, looking at to the lacy garment decorating your lower half, “Expecting something to happen?”

You shake your head no, not loving the accusation that you planned this, “No, I just… didn’t have anything else…”

“Convenient,” he comments, taking notice of how completely ruined they are, wet from your arousal pooling in them. He pulls the side of them away from your skin, only to let it slap back against you, enjoying the way you squirm under him, “I think I’ll leave these on.”

He continues undressing you though, tugging off your shirt, your bra following along soon after. You feel so exposed compared to his fully dressed form. His cock strains against his pants though, sitting heavy against the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes you salivate but he takes no notice.

“I gotta get my mouth on you, pretty thing,” he murmurs more to himself than you, since you’re not really thinking at this point, only squirming under him and trying to rub your thighs together.

He shuffles down between your legs, spreading them apart further and tossing them over his shoulder. Drawing your panties to the side, he presses his face into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the act makes you jump and whinge out his name, shocked by the completely debauched display.

“Satoru~”

He doesn’t reply, not with words, he mumbles into your pussy and licks a long stipe from your hole to your clit before licking back down. His tongue pushing into your cunt with the desperation of a starved man. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head side to side slightly, stimulating it.

You moan and whimper into the air, fingers finding purchase in his hair, needing something to tug onto while he eats you out in the messiest way possible. There is no finesse, he’s sloppily making out with your cunt, drinking down all the arousal that leaks from you eagerly.

Your thighs begin shaking beside his head and he holds you tighter, his head moving back and forth quickly, shaking it, trying to force your orgasm from you. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your soft skin and the way he groans so unrestrained into your pussy has you cumming on his face very suddenly.

Your stomach twists as your cunt clenches around Gojo’s tongue, your mind lost in how good you feel. Not registering the sound of your moans or the sounds of his mouth lapping at you in the most lewd manner, it should be embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can’t seem to care when it feels this good.

He’s unrelenting, licking and mouthing at your sensitive pussy until you start twitching away from him and pulling on his hair harshly, wordlessly tell him it’s too much.

“Perfect,” he turns his face to the side and mumbles into your thigh, nipping at the skin, delighting in the way your body jerks, “Got an absolutely perfect cunt.” He says shamelessly.

“Gojo!”

He looks up at you through his lashes, “Ah, back to Gojo now?” he leans up and back onto his knees, tugging his shirt over his head and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, “No worries, I’ll fix that real soon.”

The sound of his belt clinking and zipper undoing brings you out of your thoughts, temporarily disarmed by the sudden exposure of his skin. He doesn’t bother taking them off completely, just shirking them down enough to free his painfully erect cock.

Your gaze gets lost in the sight of his dick, leaking thick globs of precum from the tip down his shaft. His hand tugging lazily at it, spreading his own mess everywhere, slicking it up for you. Wet sounds of his hand languidly fucking his cock makes your skin prick. How he’s going to fit you aren’t sure, the size of him is daunting.

He smiles when you look back in his eyes, “There she is.” He leans down over you, “I know I have a really nice dick but let’s try and stay focused, pretty, hmm?”

It’s condescending and egotistical of him to say but you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine at his words, “Gojo, you have a massive–”

“–Dick? Yeah I know,” he smiles cheekily at you.

You finish your previous interrupted statement, “I was gonna say ego.”

“Two things can be true at once,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You ready for this?”

“I don’t think I could ever be ready for this,” you retort.

“Way to boost a guys ego,” he chuckles at your comment.

You grab the side of his face, “Not that you need it.” You murmur before pulling him down for another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.

He licks into your mouth straight away; you can taste yourself on his tongue. You feel like you could float away, not knowing how you’ve gone your whole life without being kissed like this. Your thighs are back on either side of his hips again, your need to be filled growing by the second.

Pulling back, he sits up so he can watch himself enter your tight pussy. He’s not denying himself this view, not when he’s imagined it so many times before. He rubs his cock through your folds a few times, relishing in your small jumps and moans. He needs it wet; it needs to be so fucking wet if he even dreams of fucking his cock all the way inside you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax for me and remember to breathe if you wanna take it all,” he says it so seriously, and if you hadn’t seen his dick you would’ve assumed he was just stroking his own ego for the sake of it.

You nod at him, “Got it, now please,” your hips wiggle slightly, enticing him.

“I got ya,” he smirks, pushing forward slightly.

The tip of him is a lot, your cunt stretching to take it, the ache dulled by the absolute messy state of your pussy and the thumb Gojo is pressing into your clit. He intakes a sharp breath at the snug fit of your cunt, his hips jerking forward mindlessly, a groan pulled from deep in him, while you whimper pathetically.

Your breath stutters and you’re struggling, grip on his cock impossibly tight, through gritted teeth, he reminds, “Hey, hey… breathe yeah? You gotta –fuck– you gotta breathe for me, pretty.”

Collecting yourself, you attempt to take deep breaths, they come out stuttered but the punishing grip you had on him eases, “Almost had me fucking cumming, geez…” he laughs lightly at it but he would’ve been beyond embarrassed if he came with only his tip inside of you, he’d never live it down.

“You can –hah– you can move,” you stammer out.

He double checks, “You sure?”

Your eyes are so wet and your voice is wrecked when you add, “Please.”

An evil smile takes its place on his face, “Why were you assigned to work with me?”

“Gojo, not now,” your words break off into a whine, you sound so pathetic, you do not have the upper hand here.

“Mmm? You want me to stuff you full? Tell me the reason,” he leans down slightly, cock slipping just that tiny bit more into you.

Ignoring him, your wrap your legs tighter around his waist and try fucking up onto him, it works for the one second that he lets it and then one of his large hands is reaching down and slamming your hips back into the couch cushions.

“Come on, pretty,” his breath wafts against the side of your face, his lips tickling your ear, “You really gonna waste time being stubborn?”

“You’re the stubborn one,” you argue.

He hums noncommittally, almost like you proved his point for him, “Come on, I can feel you fucking pulsing around me, just tell me what you did~”

“I– I… I didn’t listen to an order on a mission and almost got myself killed,” you pout out, breathing laboured.

He tsks at you, disapproving of your actions, “You really should be more careful,” he kisses beside your ear, “And listen to your seniors more.” It goes without saying that, that includes him. You suspect he’s mostly talking about himself; he has no respect for the current hierarchy.

“Gojo, you said you would–”

He tilts his head at you, “–I did but now knowing how reckless you were, I can’t help but want to punish you a bit more…”

Your waterline fills with tears at the frustration, your pussy fluttering on the barely two inches he has sat inside you, how he’s holding out so well you have no idea because you’re about to fucking cry.

Your voice is embarrassing to even your own ears, “Satoru, please, more.”

“Ah, well when you ask like that, how can I say no?” He’s acting as if he’s taking mercy on you and not like his dick didn’t twitch violently at you using his name again.

Slowly, he pushes into you, stopping every now and again to let you adjust and reminding you to just breathe through it. Something Gojo has realised is, your cunt is so reactive to him, the words he speaks, the hand he has on your hip, the kisses he presses into the side of your head, all of it has you spasming around him and every time you do, it feels like a gut punch to him.

It’s addictive and also world shattering, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last when he actually starts fucking into you. The little noises you make don’t help either, how on earth is he meant to last more than a minute inside you?

Eventually, he bottoms out, the both of you moaning at the relief, your legs nearly kick at the sensation of how deep inside you he is, “Satoru, move?”

He bites out, “Give me a second.” He’s fighting the primal urge to cum inside you right now.

You whine under him, hips twitching, using the minimal amount of space to grind your pelvis into his. Your pussy stutters around him at the stimulation on your clit and he groans loudly at it, his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.

He forces your hips down and still again, pinning you to the couch with his own, “You’re so impatient. Do you want this to be over now? You want me to cum after only being fully inside you for a minute?”

You shake your head at him, the feral look in his eyes making your stomach do flips, your pussy gushing around him.

He laughs dryly, “Fuck, I can’t do a single thing without turning you on more, huh?”

You look away from him, embarrassment reaching a new pique with that comment, “Not nice, Satoru.”

“Not a bad thing, pretty,” he noses your cheek, realising how he said it harshly without meaning it that way, “Huge compliment, knowing you react this way to me is fucking perfect but it also has me on the edge of finishing prematurely.”

Turning your head back to him, you look him in the eyes and he swears he sees heaven because you have tears trailing down your cheeks and your eyes are blown and wet and he’s gonna finish if he keeps looking at you. So, instead, he leans in and kisses you deep, getting lost in the taste and feel of your mouth.

The small reprieve helps and he begins thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock leaving and entering you with the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. It’s such a fucking mess, leaking out of you, down your thighs and onto your nice couch. And even if he really tried, he couldn’t give a fuck, not when your cunt is so slick and warm and wrapping around him like it was made for him.

The sounds you let out are cute but muffled against his mouth, he settles for swallowing them down but he’d really rather hear them loud and clear. You flutter around him so beautifully, everything you do is perfect to him and you laying here while he shoves you full of his fat cock is no different.

He pulls away from your lips to hear the noises you make for him, “Cute,” he comments offhandedly, not even sure if you hear the contents of his words. He only knows you hear his voice because your cunt clenches down on him at the sound.

You cry out to him, “S’toru~”

“Ah, you’re so fucking close aren’t you,” the smile on his face is huge and wolfish, excited to feel you cum all over him, looking forward to literally nothing else.

You try to verbalise it, “I– mm –mmph–”

“Go on, let yourself gush all over me, wanna fucking feel it, pretty,” his words are sharp against your ear.

His hips increase their pace, slamming down into you more forcefully, his pelvis grinding into your clit harshly. Your eyes cross into the back of your head, neck lolling back bonelessly, choppy, whimpered sounds leave you. Your fingers claw at his biceps, leaving behind angry marks. Gojo’s hands have a death grip on your hips, bruised marks will definitely be left behind in their wake.

A particularly sharp thrust and loud whine from Gojo has you cumming under him, your pussy gripping him tight as your cum leaks from you sloppily, his cock coated in it. Creamy ring left at the base of his cock as he continues thrusting mercilessly.

His abs pull taut, his resolve finally breaking now that he’d finally felt you finish on him, “Where you want it?”

“Inside, please Satoru,” your words are mumbled and breathy.

“Fuuuuuck.”

He’s lucky you said that because your words have him cumming on the spot, thick ropes of his cum being forced deep inside your little cunt. It leaks out around the base of him, even as he presses deep into you, his pelvis tight against yours, riding out his high by grinding into you slightly. The stimulation making your cunt jump around him as he hisses at the slight overstimulation he’s forcing himself into.

You both huff, gasping greedily for air after your intense highs, the room filled with nothing but silence and your haste breaths. Eventually, you both even out and lay there quietly, Gojo pressed against you with his cock still snug inside your pussy.

“Gojo, you’re heavy,” you tell him.

He laughs, “Right, sorry.”

Leaning back, he slowly pulls his dick from you, both hissing at it. His eyes are fixated on the way his cum slips from your hole, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight, obsessing over how hot it is that you took so much of him. He slips your panties back into place, letting them keep his cum inside you.

“You did so good,” he praises you suddenly.

It makes you feel bashful, “So did you…” you mumble out.

A loud laugh results from him, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes crinkled in a large smile.

Gojo cleans the pair of you up, tucking you carefully into your bed and holding you close as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Do you want me to be?” He questions lightly, trying not to expect anything from you.

“…Yes, I’d like it a lot if you stayed, I think.” You admit shyly.

“Then I’ll be here,” he presses himself into you closer, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you.

You don’t think this was in your job description…

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Three

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss (it’s happening!!!)

Description: Spencer has taken notice of how close you are getting with Emily, causing a good amount of jealousy to flow through his veins. 

Content/Warnings: Flirting, arguments, Spencer and JJ are starting to crumble.

WC: 1.4K

I’m going to California tomorrow for a mini vacation so I wanted to make a post before I left. Next chapter will purely be reader x Emily with the way I have things planned.

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

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The conversation with Emily eased some pain in your chest. You weren’t alone, instead you had someone who you’ve known for ages directly telling you she’s going to stand behind you. 

You’d think that she would be forced to be unbiased, being unit chief as well as being friends with all three of the involved parties. Emily wasn’t always a rule follower though, everyone knew that. 

It was a month after the fact that you’d finally come to peace with the issues that you had with Spencer and JJ. You’d never be able to forgive them for that betrayal, however you were civil with them at work. It wasn’t a chore to have to sit in the same room as them. You thought that you might actually survive the whole ordeal. 

You moving on was a blessing to the team, the lack of tension and high emotions made working so much more comfortable. There were no sly comments, there were no exasperated expressions of frustration from someone saying the wrong thing. All was well. 

Spencer didn’t like that you were still avoiding him outside of the office but he had to come to terms with that on his own time. He expected things to get better, for the friendship to be mended. He didn’t get that lucky. 

It had gotten to the point that he lost himself in the efforts of making everything up to you by offering a healthy amount of distance, only being able to yearningly glance at you from the distance between you. 

All he wanted was to just force you to sit down and talk things out with him. 

While you were moving on in a healthy manner, he was festering in an ocean of self deprecation. The ultimate switch of your outward emotions became more obvious with each passing day. Instead of you being quiet and ignoring the world, it was Spencer. 

The old you would’ve felt bad and reached out as soon as he began acting like that. Now though? You felt.. Good when it came to seeing him miserable. He knew how bad he fucked himself over and you were basking in it. 

Revenge in the simple form of bettering yourself was just too sweet. It was better considering the work you put in was purely for yourself. 

The situation between JJ and Spencer was severely impacted, mainly because the former was so confused on why you were such a forefront after everything that went down between the both of you. In her mind, it made sense why you’d leave him alone, so why did he care? It wasn’t worth it.

Regardless, he wouldn’t take her advice.

Spencer had begun to notice that you were spending a lot more time in Emily’s office lately. He didn’t want to even think about what was going on behind that closed door, mainly because a pang of jealousy shot through his body every single time you took a file to her in order to discuss it.

Just like now, you were currently seated in Emily’s office, the both of you discussing a recent case and how you could approach writing your report. It was fully innocent, even if there was a lot of rumors about what was actually going on when you were alone.

“I appreciate you working with me on this.” You smiled while looking up at Emily, your cheek resting against the palm of your hand. You were spending quite a lot of time with her outside of the office too lately. She just knew how to make you feel better and you gave her credit for half of the reason you were doing much better.

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy you asked for help on it. Your reports before were..” She hissed in a playful tone. “Questionable.” She joked with you, causing your foot to gently kick hers under the table.

“They weren’t bad! I used to ask Rossi to look them over just to make sure they were good. Between you and me, I think I’ve been getting on his nerves so that’s why I came to you this time.”

Emily chuckled. “I’m a second option then. I’m hurt.” She sighed in a dramatic fashion, her hand against her chest.

“I saved the best for last.” You corrected, a smile gracing your features. You really felt drawn to Emily after all of her patience and help as of late. It was funny, you’d worked together all these years and didn’t manage to actually sit and get to know one another outside of your jobs. Maybe it was your undying love for Spencer that shielded you from fully expressing yourself to anyone else.

“You flatter me.” The raven haired woman mused while she was looking at her watch. “I’ll go ahead and keep this file since we are done. Wanna go out and pick up lunch with me?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. It was a quiet day, so it wouldn’t hurt to go out for an hour or so.

“Only if you’re buying.” You winked, pushing yourself to stand while the two of you were walking out of the office together. The minute the door was opened was when Spencer’s head immediately lifted from his assignment, landing on you and Emily as you both left the office together.

You’d briefly stopped to grab your bag before just continuing to follow the unit chief to the elevator.

“Guess they are going out again.” Tara commented while shaking her head with a smile. “I think it’s sweet.”

“What do you mean? This seems like a friendly interaction.” That pang of jealousy shot into Spencer's chest once again. 

“You’re joking, right? Do you see the way they look at each other? Hardly seems like a simple friendly interaction.” Luke commented from his desk, sipping from his coffee mug.”You haven’t noticed?”

“I don’t think you can determine anything other than friendship with just the way they look at one another. That seems a bit silly.” He commented once more as he shrugged, tapping the back of his pen against the desk.

“Why do you care?” JJ finally asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “‘Cause it looks like to me that all this worrying is purely one sided.” For the first time since the incident, you weren’t the one causing all the tension. It was JJ.

“I care because she’s my friend. It’s not that I care about her and Emily anyway, I just wanted to inquire how they could be anything but friends.”

“Because you care. Spencer, she hasn’t spoken to you in a month. It’s safe to say that she isn’t your friend anymore. She isn’t interested in mending a friendship. So why don’t you just.. Stop being yourself for one minute and consider the other option.”

“I can’t just stop being myself. It’s all I know how to be.”

“But you can. You can stop showing the slightest bit of worry whenever she does so much as blink. She’s fine.” 

The bickering had everyone watching, enjoying the entertainment between the two people who were wrong in this whole situation. It was a shame that you were missing it.

“Are you two done?” Dave was asking from the doorway of his office, his arms crossed over his chest. His stance was reminiscent of a dad getting ready to scold his two fighting children. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that this bickering is ridiculous. You made your bed and now you have to lie in it, that’s all there is to say.” 

Spencer was falling silent again as he brought a hand up to rub his face. “I’ve done a lot of things wrong but me caring for her is certainly not one of them. I don’t deserve the privilege to have her in my life but I am never just gonna pretend like I don’t care.” He responded, making the blonde scoff.

“Right. You really showed how much you cared about her when you willingly got with me even after you had an inkling she had feelings for you. I was in the wrong too but that’s why I’m leaving her alone. You care so much for someone who you pushed away and made her feel so little care for you. Now she doesn’t even look at you. But sure, you care.”

JJ taking accountability was one thing but she knew she would never be able to force Spencer to. He was too stubborn and he wouldn’t believe that you were gone from him forever. Your friendship couldn’t be a lost cause. He knew there was a way to make things better. 

He could do that. 

He would do that.

[alicelufenia]

A Guide To Keeping Wyll And Karlach After Siding With Minthara In Act 1

Or as I like to call it, how to permanently recruit Karlach and Wyll (because I have yet to complete a full playthrough with both of them)

Ever since Larian added a way to legitimately recruit Minthara by knocking her out, I've wanted to help the community be more successful in their efforts to give my favorite drow yet another concussion. Because like all things related to Minthara, the KO method was buggy as hell, non-intuitive, and metagamey as fuck. I wrote multiple guides on it, to the point where I made the master post my pinned for a while. You may have seen it at some point, but here it is again for reference [x]

As happy as I am with the success of those posts, it's time I revealed my true alignment. I'm actually one of those scary Minthara stans who has killed the grove more times than siding with the tieflings. I know, you'd never guess by looking at my blog (don't look at my blog) I did it my first playthrough and it's only gotten easier since. And while I stand by it as the single best way to experience Minthara's character and story arc, I'm not so cold-hearted as to deny that it's a shame we miss out on Wyll and Karlach in the process.

So rather than play the villain, what say we have them stick around by taking on the REAL villains of Act 1:

The Druids

To start off, you'll want both Wyll and Karlach in your party, and Withers in camp. I've had him show up upon crossing one of the bridges in Act 1, either to the blighted village or the goblin camp, I forget which, or you can bust him out of his Dank™ crypt. Proceed through Act 1 as normal. To be safe I got as much approval from them as I could in early game, but that may not be necessary. Offer to kill Kagha for Zevlor.

Now, both of them need to die, and preferably not by the hand of your party members. I had them suicide charge the gnolls and get wrecked, as on Tactician mode they'll attack downed party members until they're dead. I don't know if having them jump off a cliff works, but it might. We need to entrust them to Withers by asking him to look after their bodies instead of reviving them. Their bodies will then appear in camp by their tents.

Now go kill Kagha without revealing the shadow druid conspiracy. This should trigger the Druids to start fighting the Tieflings, which will happen off screen as you deal with Kagha and the few druids inside with her (killing Nettie earlier might make this easier in case she joins in. She tried to poison you, so serves her right.)

Steal that idol! I'm not 100% sure this is required, but it takes no effort at this point and you need to sit tight for a minute, so might as well.

Also if you thought you could return the idol to Mol, no luck, she won't accept it until the fighting ends. Unfortunately all the tieflings need to die for this to work, so rip Ring of Protection. But not exactly rip the tiefling kids, more on that in a minute.

OOF, rip Dammon (and most of Karlach's questline. Don't look at me like that, it's Larian's fault for tying her entire story onto one npc and giving nothing as an alternative)

I'll give the tieflings credit, they did not go down without one hells of a fight. This bear was found burnt to death, probably due to Zevlor.

Damn, they really killed all of them. I wanna point out this can happen even on a good playthrough with the best of intentions.

In the end, only four(!) druids survived. I don't know how they'd fare with Kagha fighting too, but overall I'd say the druids talk big for doing this badly against a bunch of unarmed civilians. We kill the last four of them, then get ready to move on.

With trepidation, I go to check on the kids. Not recommended if you raid the grove for real, but here:

It's just... empty. No bodies, no npcs hanging around, they completely cleared out.

I like to headcanon that Mol followed through on protecting her kids, and they escaped down this hole. I'm still very early in this run used for testing, so I have legit no idea if they show up later. But this is good enough for me to include them all in my fanfiction so :D Congrats, the only tieflings with rights (sorry Karlach!) are gonna be alright (because if we don't see a body it doesn't count)

Next step is to just... keep going. Sazza can get you into the goblin camp no problem, and if you play a Drow or have Shadowheart use disguise self, you can gain entry without any checks or dialogue. My half elf needed to talk her way in (or just use AUTHORITY)

best goblin btw

MOMMY

Lookit how happy she is after Sazza has brought her the grove's location! A lead on the weapon AND another True Soul AND she's concussion-free? Everything's coming up Minthy!

It's at this point things get a little weird (I did warn ya), as the game now has flagged the grove as "raided" even though we haven't done an actual grove battle, which is a different thing (as I'll demonstrate later), so Shadowheart has her "post-raid" dialogue when we wake up on the next long rest. The Raid The Grove quest is also marked as Completed, but still has a marker on the map. Have patience, return to the grove and walk through the (destroyed) gate, and suddenly:

The quest will update, and direct you to speak with Minthara in the secluded chamber where she normally is at when the raid is finished. There's also goblins milling about the grove now, same as the post-raid grove.

Get someone who looks at you the way Minthara looks at a cave full of dead druids and tieflings.

"No Minthara, I never meant for any of this to happen. This was all my fault, I shouldn't have gotten involved, they're all dead because of me-"

"Nevermind I am no longer morally conflicted about all this."

To the goblin party!

LIES. He never mentions it again lmao. C'mon patch 7 fix this! (you won't)

Why we're all really here 🥰

The next morning, speak to Withers and ask to collect your dead party members. He will have you confirm payment for their resurrection.

And it works! Karlach and Wyll are back, they can rejoin the party, and their approval is Unchanged!

Since I was on a roll, I went ahead and checked a few other scenarios: what happens if we don't start a fight with the druids and just raid the grove directly, with Karlach and Wyll dead? Well you can revive them afterwards, but...

Dang, Wyll still leaves (he's still so nice about it though! Even wishes you well!)

Meanwhile Karlach: Feck off, cunt.

Well, she's not leaving, but she's never been this blunt or cold towards me before. I wonder how much-

Damn, -49?! That's literally one away from leaving permanently! She started at 50, which means Karlach looses 100 approval from raiding the grove, and being dead doesn't change that. I think the only reason she's at -49 instead of -50 is due to that +1 from reviving a party member. So, she's grateful for being brought back to life, but not happy about anything else. You know what, that's fair.

One last thing I tested (and no pics for it cause this post has reached its limit! But those extra pics of Sharp-Eye Sluck are important, so I'll just write this next part out) I wanted to see if it was even necessary to finish off the remaining druids after they killed all the tieflings. So I left the grove (manually, you have to journey quite a distance before it lets you fast travel, almost all the way to the first bridge) and headed to the goblin camp to start the raid as normal.

Like our first time, we arrive at an empty grove. Even the druids we left behind are gone, meaning you can safely headcanon this method as joining up with the goblins and Minthara to take revenge on the druids. The game still acts like you killed the tieflings though, down to Gale's threatening to leave.

But Karlach and Wyll still get brought back without a problem! You can even revive them DURING the goblin party and they'll act like nothing's happened!

Wyll And Karlach Recruited Alongside Raiding With Minthara: Success!

So Baldur's Gate 3 community! I now implore you to put down your Pommel Strikes, switch off that Non-Lethal toggle, and stop giving poor Minthara even more brain damage than the tadpole and the Absolute already gave her!

And when you reach Moonrise Towers to rescue her, for the love of Selûne, when the guards are torturing her in the prison, don't just swing on them. Agree to enter her mind first. You'll have a dicey roll to deal with, but trust me, it's SUPER worth it!

As for the whole process, well. Despite the clunky way quests update after you start the grove civil war, the resulting lack of direction and narrative inconsistencies in the dialogue post-goblin party, this still feels like a more immersive way to recruit Minthara on a run with both Karlach and Wyll still present, than the KO method, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Consider this: You've got a major twist in the Act 1 plot now, with the Druids turning on you and killing the tieflings you were trying to help, leaving your party dispirited and lacking direction, other than to continue their search for a cure, which leads them to meet the Absolutists, the goblins, and the drow commander leading them and looking for the druids' sanctuary. And in the midst of your grief and anger, you side with her, both to get close to the source of the infections (as the Dream Visitor suggests) but also to take your revenge out on the druids.

You can feel conflicted, regretful even, but the context has changed enough that I think even a good-aligned Tav with no qualms about methods can live with this result. It just takes a bit of filling in the gaps (do you simply point the goblin army at the druids and look away, or lead them yourself by Minthara's side? Either way works for the results)

The only real downside is, again, Karlach's story just sorta ends here, until the confrontation with Gortash. I personally think this is a problem with Larian's writing for her, and at this point fanfiction is about the only solution in sight. But if you don't mind her not getting the chance to touch others again, you really have nothing to lose here

Besides, were you really going to pay Dammon for that act 3 armor? Of course not, you steal it every run and don't pretend otherwise, "hero."

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!

[jasmines-library]

I just discovered your blog yesterday and I am INHALING your work! I love your writing, it feels like a movie being played in my head. Oh and the ANGST - JUST ajfhahaskh *Screaming in my pillow rn*.Would you be willing to write a second part of the self harm batfam x reader fic?

~ 🦑

Save Me When I Drown

I'm so glad you like my work hearing that means so much to me. as requested, here is a part 2; sorry it took me a billion years to get to it.

Part 1: Catch Me if I Fall

Warnings: Very nearly self harm, depressive thoughts, relapse. Please read with caution.

Word count: 1.3K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Things had been getting better. Slowly but surely they had. It was a slow process, that of course had not been easy. There were days where you felt like you could run a hundred miles, but there were also days where you couldn’t bring yourself to move. When the urge became too much. And although your brothers were there to help you… today was one of those days. 

The five of you were gathered around the table. Eating together at least once a week had become a tradition, and each of your brothers made a big effort to attend them, though it was rare to make it this far into the meal without being interrupted by Gotham’s infamous residents. And you were trying so hard to keep focused; to enjoy Alfred’s cooking as it melted on your tongue but you just couldn’t. And you hated yourself for it. 

You had to keep your eyes on your plate as you pushed your food aimlessly around the china. Your appetite had gone nearly as soon as you sat down, but you couldn’t look up because you knew as soon as you did you would feel guilty again. Dick sat across from you. A dark bruise had blossomed over his skin, turning it dark shades of maroon and indigo. He had a small laceration on his cheek below the bruise over his eye. It hadn’t needed stitches, but the sight still made you grimace. Beside him, Damian was also bloodied. They were all injured in some way. A stitch here, a sprain there. 

You should have been bothered by them. Injuries were a given in your line of work. But the thing that was tipping you over the edge was the fact that you were completely unscathed. There wasn’t a single hair on your head that was out of place. And it made your skin crawl. The five of them had run into a bit of a predicament with Bane; a particularly grisly fight that had ended with the majority of them spending a day or two on bedrest or in the infirmary. 

You should have been there. You should have been helping them but instead you were sitting in the safety of the manor, watching them on the monitors. Guilt washed over you like an ocean drowning you in your own thoughts. If only you had been quicker to direct them. If only you had pushed Bruce more to let you help out. Surely with an extra pair of hands the risk of injury would have been lowered. You would have had to ask Tim for the exact statistics, but you were sure enough that it would have made a difference. 

Bouncing your thigh leg up and down, you felt as though your skin was burning. Itching. As those thoughts weaselled their way back into your conscience. You picked at the skin around your thumb. Sometimes that helped the urge. But not this time. You had been too slow. Again. Everything was your fault and-

“Y/N?” It was Dick’s voice that broke you out of your trance. It was gentle and he reached out to place a hand on your restless leg under the table. He was ever the observer. The way he looked at you made you want to cry like a fragile child. Soft blue eyes downturned as he raised his eyebrow a fraction with the tilt of his head. “Are you alright?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him everything. But you kept it bottled up. You didn’t want them to pity you. Besides, you were getting better. That was what you had told yourself. That is what had been happening and it made you so frustrated that you were beginning to feel this way again. 

“Y/N?” Someone else called your name again with the same solemn tone when you refused to reply. You didn’t register who it was because your head was too foggy. Frankly, you didn’t care. You needed to leave.

“ ‘scuse me.” Scraping your chair against the floor, you abandoned your food and made a beeline for the exit. 

You think someone called after you, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the thumping of your heart as you hounded up the stairs and into your room. Shutting the door rather too harshly and locking it behind you, you sank to your knees. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as your mask fell and you slumped against the ground. You felt so stupid. You were supposed to be getting better. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You were supposed to be fine and you were supposed to be downstairs eating with the others. God, that made you feel even worse. You sank a little deeper into that ocean of thoughts. They had all made such an effort to be there and you had just fled like a child to their mother. 

Do it. Your mind was barking orders at you again. Old ones that you had fought so hard to forget.

Restlessly you pushed yourself up and made your way over to your closet. Shakily you dug through the draws until your fingers wrapped around the frayed leather. Silent, you turned it over in your palms. Your whole body seemed to tremble as you moved to perch on the edge of the bed. 

Someone was knocking on the door. You could hear them on the other side begging to be let in. begging for you to just answer them. 

You placed the blade against your skin and screwed your eyes up tight. The silver was cool against your skin. 

“Little Bat…please open the door.” Bruce had never sounded more vulnerable as he stood helplessly outside the door. You could almost picture his face: eyebrows downturned and eyes wide as he waited anxiously for you to either open the door or from Tim to return with the spare key to your room. Just in case. 

Trembling, your whole body was wracked by waves of tears each one gripped you tight and was accompanied by a thousand thoughts trying to burn away at the surface of your skin. Your eyes flickered to the knife. One swipe and it would all be gone. One swipe and you would get what you felt like you deserved. But then Bruce’s voice broke through the door. 

“I know you’re scared, Kiddo.”

Your head snapped toward the door. You paused with a shuddering breath.

“And that’s okay. That’s normal.” He continued. “I get scared too. We all do.”

At that moment you knew that your brothers were standing behind the door too, waiting with anxious anticipation that made their fingertips itch. You heard a shuffling, and then Jason’s voice came, muffled by the door. You weren’t entirely sure if he was planning to break it down or not, but his voice was calm. 

“Please open the door Little Wing…” Jason pleaded. “...We love you…and we’re scared.”

And you broke. The dagger clattered to the floor with another bout of tears and you unlocked the door. 

Bruce wrapped you up in his arms the second the door was wide enough to reveal you. He let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“S-sorry…” You spluttered. “I’m sorry…”

“Shh.” He cupped the back of your head with his hand and you felt one of your brothers place a hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Wing. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I-”

“Shh.” Tim hushed. “It’s okay.”

“I thought I was getting better.” You sniffled.

Damian frowned. “You are. And we are so proud of how for you have come, sister. This is part of the process, Little Wing.”

“You’ve come so far, Kid.” Dick told you. “And we’re sorry that we didn’t notice how you were feeling until now. But it’s okay, because healing isn’t a linear process. And we’re going to be there with you every step of the way. Through the good and the bad just like we promised.”

You nodded. 

“This is just one of the bad days, Wing.” Tim hummed. “Things will get better, I promise.” 

“And we will love you the entire way.”

Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

[bixbythemartian]

This is About Oceangate

...kind of. Like, heads up for people who are sick of hearing about it or are too disturbed by this, just scoot on by, that's fine.

Like everybody else my age who had a middle school special interest in the Titanic that was further fueled by the James Cameron movie (and that sounds very specific, but I absolutely know I'm not alone), I've been following this story fuckin voraciously.

I think everybody I know IRL and online is fucking sick of me talking about it. I have been actively trying not to blog much about it here because I'm so obsessed with it that I'm annoyed with myself. I would like to not be this interested in it.

But a lot of the stuff I can think of to say has been said by a lot of people already, I don't want to add to an already noisy environment if I've got nothing new to say.

So, instead, I want to talk about what I haven't seen very many people talking about- something that's stood out to me about the way the media has been handling this story from the get-go. So, finally, I'm inflicting my days long media binge on you.

The media's handling of this was bad. Like, comprehensively fucked.

For the uninformed, a primer on the situation- feel free to skip down if you know all this, there's a bulleted list right after I get done with this part, look for that. But some of this is important to the terms I use, so I wanted to lay it out. (Also I just want to get a lot of this out of my system, please just let me have this.)

The Titan is a 'cyclops-class' submersible. As far as I can tell, 'cyclops-class' is unique to the people who made this submersible, it's not a widely recognized thing.

The Titan can carry up to five passengers. It was supposed to be rated to reach depths of up to 4000 meters below sea level.

The Titan is/was owned and operated by a company known as Oceangate. There's a lot of questions regarding the safety of the submersible, where the math came from on their depth rating, and- basically everything about the Titan is in question, at this point. There's a lot of questions, but that's not what I want to talk about.

Right now. Maybe later.

A submersible is distinct from a submarine in that it requires a surface support ship for many things- the Titan moved too slow to leave port under its own power and go to the site, it didn't have enough life support to do that kind of thing, etc. A submarine is self-supporting and can operate independently. Kind of pedantic, I know, but the Titan is a submersible, not a submarine.

The Titan had a planned expedition to the wreck of the Titanic on June 18, 2023- this past Sunday, at the time of writing. The expedition was supposed to last around 10 hours. It chartered a ship- the Polar Prince- to act as mother ship, the on the surface support that the Titan requires. (The Polar Prince is owned and operated by a different company than the Titan.)

1 hour and 45 minutes into the expedition, as the Titan was still making its way to the sea floor, the Polar Prince lost all contact with the submersible.

The Titanic wreck is at just under 4000 meters deep, right around 2.5 miles.

Now, my understanding is that the Titan was not fully at the ocean floor at the point contact was lost, but it's not clear how deep the Titan was at that time. We may not ever know this for certain.

When the Titan was reported as missing to the coast guard is kind of unclear, to me- I heard 6 hours after they lost contact, I heard 12 hours after they lost contact, I saw something that indicated they reported it missing immediately- I don't know for sure. When the coast guard report comes out, I'm hoping we'll get a more accurate timeline.

However, as soon as it was reported missing, a massive search and rescue operationg was started. Complicating the search efforts were the fact that the submersible seemed to have no type of emergency distress locator beacon (I'm not sure what the precise nautical terminology would be for this).

The search included visual searching of the surface, dropping buoys with microphones, and ROVs (unmanned remote operated vehicles, deep sea robots operated by crew on ships at the surface) searching the floor, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. Deep sea radar etc etc, every tool they had access to.

The search and rescue concluded on Thursday (June 22, 2023) around midday, when they definitively found pieces of the destroyed submersible's pressure vessel (the part of the submersible that held pressure and kept the people safe and alive) in a debris field, approximately 1600 feet away from the Titanic.

The destroyed pressure vessel and reports from the Navy on hearing sounds consistent with implosion at the time the Titan lost contact indicates that the submersible underwent what is being called a 'catastrophic implosion'.

It is now an investigation and recovery operation, while they try to figure out what exactly went wrong.

The five men in the sub are dead. In all likelihood, they died so quickly that their nervous system didn't have time to process what happened. What happened to their bodies during this was probably gory and kind of horrifying, but it's unlikely they experienced any awareness of this.

There were five extremely wealthy men on the submersible- they were not all billionaires, but those that weren't were worth hundreds of millions of dollars. If you want a rough sketch of their biographies, there's a link here. Other than them being pretty wealthy, who they are doesn't play that much into what I want to talk about, so I don't feel the need to go into it right now. (Again, as more information comes out, I may come back for another swing.)

So, my complaint. The number of times I saw a news interview with an expert that went like this is not small:

news host interviews deep ocean expert of some variety (who is not involved in rescue)

host asks expert what chances are that the dudes are alive and will be recovered alive

expert, being honest, says something like 'slim to none'

host responds with some amount of sincere-seeming disappointment, then after interview, pivots to the ongoing search for the definitely still alive people

There were news programs with clocks counting down how much theoretical oxygen was left. There were frequent updates to news stories with nothingburgers of additions, just to pad it out. It was, if they were alive at that moment, fucking ghoulish. That they were dead makes it even more horrible.

And I cannot emphasize enough how many experts said, to generalize and paraphrase here: "Unless they are found bobbing on the surface in the next n hours, they are dead. Even if they are alive right this minute, on the bottom of the ocean, there is no hope to rescue them in time."

This is not a failure of any of the rescue entities involved, by the way. The environment they were presumed to be in- 4000 meters under sea level- is so extreme that there are very few vehicles in the world with the capability of even getting to that depth. Like, 10 or less. As far as I know, none of them are designed to do any kind of deep sea rescue- which would have involved carefully scooping up or netting the Titan and hauling it up very slowly. There's no way to transfer personnel between ships at this depth, and the Titan had the largest passenger allowance at this depth, afaik. Like, the odds were incredibly, vanishingly small that these men would live.

The media, at large, never ever really allowed that to change the way they talked about this story or treated the participants in the story. At around 11 am or noon (central daylight time) on Thursday I saw them talking about how 'oxygen is critical'.

Oxygen was critical 24 hours prior. Even by the most generous of expectations, they were out of breathable air. Given how, to put it mildly, janky the submersible seemed to have been, there was absolutely no guarantee that they had even the 96 hours that Oceangate claimed.

Their likelihood of being rescued alive from the ocean floor was minimal on Monday. By Thursday, they were dead- again, unless they were found on the surface somewhere and had managed to carefully preserve their air somehow, they were already dead.

The media didn't really allow for the reality of the situation to be clear until Oceangate and the USCG came out and said 'yeah, they're dead'.

"Well, what's the problem with that?" you might ask. "The United States Coast Guard was the one who was saying it was a rescue up until that point."

Sure. That's their job. Their job is to treat it like an urgent rescue until it is certain that it is not. A significant amount of what they do is to rescue people from doing damnfool things in the water, and keeping hope alive until they find bodies, or evidence thereof. They were doing exactly what they should be doing.

(Whether they do this to this extent for everybody lost at sea is another conversation that's absolutely worth having, as well as their role in border patrol, but I have no bone to pick with the USCG in this particular instance. They did their all until they could do no more, that's the whole point of them, this is how they're supposed to operate.)

The media was not doing what they should be doing. There's an old quote somewhere that I think is just a journalism truism (everyone I've heard talk about it says their journalism professor said it)- if someone tells you it's raining, and someone else tells you it's not, your job isn't to report that, your job is to go outside and see if it's wet.

James Cameron- director of the aforementioned Titanic movie, as well as being a Titanic and deep sea submersible expert, knew they were dead on Monday.

He reached out to some people, he found out that the mother ship lost contact with the crew as well as their location at the same instant, and that the Navy heard a sound consistent with an implosion at around that time.

The information that the Navy heard the implosion was not classified information- they heard it via a listening system that was declassified in the 90s, I believe. Like, I knew about the system just kind of casually because I know random Navy stuff. (My dad was in the Navy, it's mostly osmosis.)

The people on the scene were informed as soon as the Navy knew. (When that was, I'm not sure, except it was before Monday. Probably they had someone go back and listen to it and weren't actively monitoring it, but it's hard to say.)

The deep ocean submersible community knew, well enough that James Cameron could call a buddy and find out. He was telling people on Monday to raise a glass to them.

The media could have had this information, if they did not have it. Either they didn't want to know, or did know, and didn't say it. And I can't say for certain they were suppressing information, but I do know that they frequently downplayed any evidence that these people were dead.

I know on CNN they ran a story about FADOSS- the FlyAway Deep Ocean Salvage System- that was shipped out to Newfoundland. It arrived Wednesday afternoon. Description in the alt text, link here.

At the time this story was published, the people in the sub would have theoretically had less than 24 hours of breathable air. They hadn't even chartered a ship for the FADOSS, at this point. And the port in Newfoundland is hundreds of miles from the site. I'm not sure how many hours away but, like, hours away. I think I heard it's a 6 hour trip, but I'm not certain on that.

This system was referenced in the news as if it was going to be part of the rescue process. Very clearly, this was never going to happen. The quote, 'a process which can take a full day' is a mild understatement, here.

It could, theoretically, be done in 24 hours, but was much more likely to take longer, unless they had enough crew in Newfoundland to do round-the-clock welding.

The response to the question about recovering someone alive is a polite way of saying 'that's not what we do'. They were not part of the rescue operation and were never intended to be, as far as I can tell.

(If you're wondering what part the FADOSS is going to take in the recovery and investigation process, it's not. It's used to lift heavy objects off the floor, and the Titan broke into small enough pieces that the ROVs are believed capable of handling it. FADOSS is on its way back to wherever it is kept. I suspect it was brought out in the edge case that the submersible was found intact with dead crew, to retrieve the vessel whole, so that the families would have bodies to bury.)

Setting aside the 'oh they definitely blew up' news that seems to have been available the whole time, every single piece of evidence and expertise pointed to these people being dead, and yet the news persisted in sort of breathlessly (sorry) talking about the rescue efforts and how much time was left. They persisted in talking about how definitely still alive these people were until they could not do that anymore.

Other examples of this issue are the knocking thing. There were reports of some of the buoys picking up something that could be described as 'knocking'. Some said it was 'every thirty minutes' but we don't know how precise a measurement that was. As soon as they started talking about the knocking, I looked into it.

As it turns out, this is just a thing that happens. The sea is very noisy, and it's hard to determine the source of a sound. Some geological things sound manmade, vice versa. They had a lot of ships cooperating together to work the search area, it's possible that they were hearing noise from those, or something from an oil platform a jillion miles away, because noise travels far and is hard to pinpoint. They had this issue while searching for the sunken USS Thresher and it was one of the ships doing the searching. Given how many different moving parts there were in this search operation, it's hard to say what the knocking was. This is just a thing in the ocean, there's a lot of fuckin noise and experts can't always pinpoint it down in location or even what it might be.

This is why, even though they heard sounds that were consistent with implosion, at the time that the Titan lost total contact with the mother ship, it was still treated as if there was a live rescue operation. Because they couldn't be certain.

But the odds were extremely poor that these men were alive, and almost everybody involved knew that fairly early on. Again, the rescue operation had to go forward like they were looking for someone alive because that's how that works. The media, on the other hand, handled this in a very irresponsible way.

And, like, I know, news media is bad at being news is not some like hot new thing, I've just been building up frustration for days and so it had to come out somehow.

I'm not sure how much of this was just because they're very wealthy men- only one of whom I've ever heard of before- and how much of it was because it was a very bizarre and unique ongoing situation, how much of it was the intersection of that.

But pretty much everybody with enough knowledge to be worth talking to about this knew, like, Monday that even if they weren't dead right then, they were very unlikely to make it out alive, and watching the news wind a bunch of people up over the hopeful outcome was revolting.

Okay. We'll see if I can go 24 hours without talking about this. If you made it to the end of this absolute fucking novel, congratulations and/or I'm sorry.

[kechiwrites]

Hello miss kechi may I request toxic but phenomenal dick game from baby daddy ghost 🤰🍆

i hope you literally meant baby daddy, because that’s what i wrote babe 😭 thank you so much for this request (i am SO sorry i made this angsty). i started writing and COULD NOT stop. also, LOVE the style of your blog. i’ll let y’all decide if this is still medic!reader...

toxic ex!ghost x reader

1/?

wc: 1.2k

cw: afab!reader but no gendered terms (i think), light spanking, taunting/teasing, riding, SMUT BABY, but also angst, toxic relationship, booty call culture, reader and ghost have a kid! ghost fucking SUCKS here, seriously he blows. no use of y/n, ever! mdni

“Come on then, you called me. Make the trip worth my while.” There’s an unusual amount of mirth in his tone, and you’d think with the way he’s staring at you that he was sitting on a golden throne encrusted with diamonds and not, y’know, laying on his back, in your bed, while you’re speared open on his erection. 

“Take the mask off you fucking dick, I’ve already seen that ugly mug of yours.” You bite, bristling at his attitude.

To his credit, Ghost doesn’t rise to your bait, opting instead to brush the blunt tips of his fingers against your clit, shifting his hips to fuck the last few inches of his dick inside you. The stretch is just a little too good, and of course it was, because God was cruel and unfair and Ghost was unfortunately the best fuck you’d ever had. Which is definitely why it’d been three months since you last fucked anything besides your hand, and your ex was only too happy to provide when you called him for a “we’re not getting back together, I just know you’re off base tonight” booty call.

As always, Ghost underneath you is a feast for the eyes, even with the mask on. He lies supine, both arms behind his head while he lazily raises his hips in an effort to egg you on. You roll your eyes at his nonchalance, crouching with your legs bent so you have better range of motion. 

The noise of your cunt welcoming him is embarrassingly audible and the upward thrust of his pelvis into yours drives all the air from your lungs in one calculated move. You let your head hang low, because God forbid he see the dazed, pleasured expression you always get on your face when he bottoms out, you’d never live it down.

Keyed up and wanting, you lean forward, shivering when the slide of his cock inside you reverberates up your spine, lighting up synapses you really, really, wished would just fucking die already. 

They don’t of course. Fucking your ex still feels like hooking yourself up to a car battery; so slowly, glacially, you raises your hips incrementally, before sliding back down, letting the very last inch of the man’s dick leave and enter you repeatedly. Ghost groans below you, murmuring platitudes and compliments while he watches you take yourself apart on his cock, piece by trembling piece.

His hands move to your hips to guide you up and down his length, and his palms are heavy and warm, firm and unabating on your skin. The surety of his grip on you makes you forget why fucking him is such a rare occurrence nowadays, why your breakup was so messy and loud and lonely. 

The insane fullness of Ghost pulling you down onto his dick again and again, fucking you like a toy, ellicits short-breathed pleas for more. You stomp your pride to death when he thumbs at your clit, sitting untouched, minding its business, at the top of your spread open pussy.  It’s almost enough to make you forget the way your thighs are burning.

Almost.

“Okay, okay fuck, no more. Let’s do something else.” You huff, crumbling forward onto his chest, your forehead pressed against his collarbone. “Please.” you add for good measure.

You rise and fall on his chest when he scoffs, flipping the two of you easily. “You used to last a lot longer on top. Having a baby wear you out?” 

Anger flares hot and fast in your chest and you nearly shove him off you. Nevermind it was his fucking kid he was taunting you with. 

“I should’ve called Soap.” 

“He wouldn’t know what to do with you.” He hammers a hard slap against your thigh before he manoeuvres you into a more comfortable position, your legs spread wide, framing either side of his midsection. There’s barely any hang time between the shift in placement and your ex plunging into you in earnest, and for that you’re thankful. Any time with the two of you that isn’t filled with barbs or fucking quickly devolves into regret and bitterness that lingers at the back of your throat like the stench of burning plastic.

Your thighs are soaked in sweat and slick at this point, amplifying the echoing clap of Ghost’s hips repeatedly, brutally meeting yours. He bends down to slot his lips over yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth, coaxing participation out of you until you're giving as good as you get. Ghost is nothing if not consistent, ebbing where you flow until he’s completely blanketed you, just like he used to, pressing so close that there’s no space left between your chests. The way he grinds down into your cunt forces your clit to rub against his pelvis, producing a mind numbing buzz in your abdomen that continues to build as the head of his cock gets reintroduced to your g-spot. Ghost is blissfully quiet when he fucks you this close. Instead of talking down to you, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, trying his level best to mark you the only way he knows how; with stinging pain and suffocating possession. He wants to keep you, to lock you and his son up where no one can get you, where no one can see you, where he can keep you safe. 

But you aren’t together and he can’t keep you. 

So he settles for this.

Settles for pushing his cock deeper and deeper into you, until you cream sweet and pretty all over his thighs. Settles for wrenching your ridiculous need for control out of your shaking hands. Settles for fucking you like you still call him ‘Simon’. Ghost settles for being the man who you curse at during the day and come for during the night. 

And you do come for him, quick and dirty but oh so satisfying, when he tosses your leg over his shoulder. You gasp and writhe underneath his hands, clenching your teeth and holding your breath while you ride out the sensation. It’s the mask, you think. Even after the last few years it still does something for you. It also helps make it feel…less personal. Like you’re back to being two people who fuck when it’s convenient, and not two people with baggage and memories and a whole ass human being between you.

He finishes not long after, rocking against you until he can’t stop the way the soles of his feet tingle and his hips stutter. 

Then, it’s just the sound of your jagged inhales and exhales filling the space between you. He’s still so close, eyes shuttered closed while he throbs inside you, his shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. You hook your fingers under the hem of his mask and he moves fast, clamping down on your wrist and squeezing until you let go. 

‘That answers that.’ You think, and you laugh without humour. You can’t help but want to cover your face, cover your nakedness, now that the deed is done, and as if he senses the shift in you, Ghost stands, barely taking the time to clean himself up before he gets dressed. 

By the time you move your arm from over your eyes, he’s at your bedroom door. 

Hand on doorknob. 

Ready to run. 

You sit up and stare at him, reclined on your forearms. You give your assent with a jerky, unstable nod, and just like that, he’s gone.

The nickname is pretty fucking apt.

part 2

series masterlist here

i hope this wan’t too sad for what you had in mind! (if it was please feel free to request again). requests are open, support content creators and city girls, reblog!

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸: 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

The Reader and Azul are married in this, and the Mostro Lounge in this is not the one at NRC but one he opened as a main location once graduating from there! ♡

⋆ Being with Azul you knew how hard he worked. How much time, thought, and effort he put into everything he did, especially when it came to his business. It was one of the things you loved about him, how dedicated he was. You supported him however you could, whether it be helping out at the lounge, testing new menu items, or even being a sounding board for any ideas he had. His dreams became your dreams, the Mostro Lounge being regarded as both yours and his. You still remember the first time Azul referred to the lounge as being “ours” instead of “his”, the happiness you felt as you realized Azul considered the lounge to belong to you both. It made you think about the future, the idea of the Mostro Lounge being a family business, passing it down to any future children you had. You wondered if Azul was thinking of it the same way, sharing his business with you being the start of his future plans. You couldn’t help how the thought caused your heart to race, finding yourself falling for him even more.

⋆ Though you love his dedication, you know how easy it is for him to overwork himself. He keeps wanting to grow, to do more, unwilling to quit once something is started. He’ll send you a text, letting you know he’ll be coming home late, returning home in the early morning or falling asleep at his desk. You’re not afraid to step in during these moments, going to the lounge to take him home. If he won’t come home (insisting there’s work to be done) you make sure he’s taking care of himself, making sure he eats and gets some rest. You’d even stay at the lounge with him, both of you falling asleep on the couch in his office when you insist he’s done enough for the day. It was one of the things Azul loves about you, how nurturing you were. He can’t help but think of how lucky he is to have married you, to have someone as kind as you love him.

⋆ Sometimes things get to be too much, the day stressful and upsetting. Whenever Azul is feeling this way you always notice, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. If you were at home you would make a blanket fort for him, either in the living room or the bedroom. A place for him to relax, cozy and warm as you cuddle each other. You wouldn’t pry, letting him know you were there if he wanted to talk. For times when you couldn’t be there (like when he was working), he would sit under his desk. You had made a safe space for him, setting up fairy lights and installing a small curtain to help him hide away. He’d sit down there and breathe, gradually calming down and relaxing. Sometimes he would call you, wanting to hear your voice. You never judge him, not about his emotions or insecurities. He trusts you so much, loves you so much, that he allows himself to be vulnerable with you. It’s something that you can’t help but cherish.

⋆ Azul can’t hide his surprise when he enters his office to find the curtain drawn under his desk, hearing the faint sounds of you quietly crying to yourself. Your day had been bad, nothing seeming to have gone right. You were waiting for Azul to come home but felt overwhelmingly lonely, the house feeling too empty with just you there. So you went to the Mostro Lounge to visit him while he was working, only to find he had left earlier that day to attend a business meeting. Not wanting to go home and not wanting to sit out in the lounge, you decided to wait for him in the safe space you had created, everything getting to be too much. Azul gently says your name, sitting in front of the curtain as he asks if you’re alright. You draw the curtain back, moving out from under the desk to wrap your arms around him. He holds you as you cry, whispering sweet words to you as he rubs his hand down your back, trying to sooth you. You stay like that for a while, Azul holding you close as your crying slowly ceases. When you begin to calm down Azul tells you it’s time to go home, informing Jade and Floyd that he’ll be leaving early.

⋆ Once at home he begins pampering you, drawing a bath for you to enjoy. You sit in the water, relaxing as Azul sits behind you, holding you close. You rest your head back against him, the stress you experienced today leaving you exhausted. He takes the time to wash you, giving you a nice scalp massage when he washes your hair. Before you could fall asleep he gets you out of the tub and dressed, leaving you in the bedroom before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. He makes your comfort food, getting trays so that you could eat in bed. You cuddle close together as you eat, watching your favorite show/movie. You go to sleep wrapped in Azul’s arms, feeling loved and treasured as he kisses you goodnight ♡

Originally posted: December 10th, 2023

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[cosmicconversations]

Astrology Lesson of the Week: The 9th House

Welcome or welcome back to the Astrology Lesson of the Week. Every Monday on my blog, I delve into an astrological subject to give you a deeper understanding of it. I am going through the houses now and this week, we are discussing the 9th House!

The 9th House is, in my opinion, one of the least explored houses in astrology, which is funny because that is one of the things it stands for: exploration. This can mean exploration that happens on the outside, leading to the classic 9th House descriptions of “travel” and “foreign culture”. But, it also represents the kind of exploration that happens on the inside. It is the philosophical states of mind that gets us to question our current path, the way that we’re living or, possibly, not living. The 9th House is where we go when we are seeking deeper meaning out of life and it is also where we have the sort of “life crisis” that makes us do a drastic overhaul of the direction we’re going down.

This is one reason why the 9th House precedes the 10th, which is the house that informs the various goals we set for ourselves and the sense of purpose we pursue. The 9th House asks us why we’re embarking on a certain path to begin with. It’s why your 9th House has to effectively support your 10th. Otherwise, you are just going at a certain career or public role just for the money or the recognition and not because of the genuine fulfillment it brings you. It’s also why it is interesting to see someone with planets conjunct their Midheaven but in the 9th House. Unlike planets on the Midheaven on the 10th House side, when 9th House planets are on this angle in your natal chart, you are more concerned with the journey of your career than the destination. Instead of using that planet’s energy in a utilitarian or calculated way, you are simply exploring it for everyone to see and putting in sustained effort to do so.

Those with placements in the 9th House have a way of fully embracing whatever path they are on. Similarly to the 10th, there is something “big” about how these planets are lived out in this house. Not big in an impressive way but in an adventurous or unrestrained way. There is no limit to the expression of whatever is in your 9th House. The best way to express this energy is to not hold back. This leads not only to total honesty but a sense of tackling something major. It is underestimated just how much the 9th House in our birth chart characterizes what kind of “hero’s journey” we are embarking on. It is more so even than the 1st House because that is just the role we instinctively play. In the 9th, we don’t just play a role. We are Dorothy being swept off to Oz, having all sorts of colorful experiences and learning a lot along the way.

Even if your 9th House is empty, everyone has a sign on their 9th House cusp. The concerns and interests of this sign are what will bring some needed adventure to your life. It could mean embarking on a new career (Capricorn on the 9th House cusp) or deciding to go back to school (Sagittarius in the 9th) or taking on your love life with a new attitude (Libra in the 9th). Even though these are regular occurrences, whatever energy is in the 9th House of your chart won’t feel regular. It will feel like being transported out of your humdrum version of Kansas. It will shake you out of your comfort zone and challenge you to learn new things or have enlightening experiences. You might discover a part of yourself or a key to your happiness that you didn’t quite know was there before.

If you have placements in your 9th House, however, things are rather different. 9th House people are always seeking adventure and are prone to feelings of restlessness when they are stuck in one place for too long, whether this is physically or mentally. So, on one hand, you could see the 9th House person moving on a regular basis. As someone who has two planets in the 9th (my Moon and Pluto), I have had no strong attachment to my hometown and live far away from it, a sentiment many 9th House individuals share. I have definitely gone through distinct phases in one city to the next in my adult life. I even moved quite a bit in my early childhood until we settled in my hometown. It is common to see those with planets in the 9th who were born in another country or maybe had a parent in the military or who traveled for work and were always moving as children. Many of us are conditioned to see the places where we live not as somewhere to settle indefinitely but merely a physical reflection of a chapter of our lives.

This is where we see the connection to traveling and the association with foreign culture. People with 9th House planets may not feel truly complete until they travel and experience many different countries. It is often said that having an occupied 9th House can make you more at home abroad than in the country you were born. At the least, you may adjust to it very well and become one with the culture. You probably don’t have a rigid attachment to your culture, including your ethnicity. Not to say you’re not proud of your ethnic background. 9th House people are just more prone to deeply relating to those of other ethnicities in addition to their own, to the point where you may feel uncannily connected to and comfortable with that culture. Starting a family with someone of a different ethnicity or from another country may be no big deal at all to you and it is quite a pattern with 9th House people.

The 9th House person is also constantly seeking inner expansion, as we have said before. So, consistent and continual growth is important to someone with an occupied 9th House. A lot of these people are always striving to be bigger and better versions of themselves. The planet(s) placed here and the sign involved will show how that occurs. These are the people who are never in the same place they were two or three years ago. However, there are certain 9th House people who don’t prioritize this kind of growth, even if they think they do. These people may use things like religion (another 9th House buzzword we will explore further in the description) or superficial self-help to give off the illusion that they are growing and changing. While faithful Jupiter traditionally rules the 9th, so does Neptune, the planet that can represent deception, including self-deception. The 9th House can potentially show us where we are so convinced that our perspective or path is right that we don’t see where we need to change course or shift our outlook.

Whether you have an empty 9th House or planets here, you need to examine your beliefs and make sure they are actually serving you. If not, you can stand in the way of your true growth as well as real personal liberation. The truth is what sets us free! And maybe the truth is that you need to take more accountability or be more courageous or stop playing small. But, the truth could also be that you don’t know nearly as much as you think you do. Experience is often times the best teacher. But, if you are not seeing your experiences as opportunities to learn something new, then you’re not going to.

Extended Portion of Astrology Lesson of the Week (9th House) (how this house symbolizes our experience with religion and any religious trauma we have, our capacity to have faith and positivity and the college phase of our life)

[narumi-gens]

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 

There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 

And he also notices that it twitched upward. 

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 

His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

[lovebvni]

Quick lil pick-a-pile (old, and yes i was denki obsessed and i still am. i love him)

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 31.3.22

[  ] published ⋮  4.4.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hello loves! I haven't done a pick a pile in so long and i LOVE making these, this time i decided to challenge myself and make it an intuition instead of tarot (plus i don't have my tarot cards stfu)

The questions that will be answered today are:

1. A message from someone in your dr. (summitted by Ayaya)

2. What is holding you back from shifting? (summitted by IceChips)

3. How is your s/o doing? (summitted by IceChips)

pick an emoji!

💫|☮️|💥

Pile 1; starburst

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"Hey, hi! What are you up to? How has life been? You don't know? Well focus on it! You know, things may be hard, like hail falling on you, but you know what, I have a bulldozer to shelter you, so you know what. Keep pushing. Things may be hard, or something, but do the things you love, talk to the people you love, and you know what, while you're at it, draw someone from your dr or write something to them. I know they'll appreciate it!"

** Side notes: i felt some real best friend energy, maybe a sibling, or something? also getting in your family for some reason, somebody who would say weird ass shift like "a bulldozer from shelter" LAMOJSOIJTEJ **

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

First, I'm getting pretty much everyone picking this pile has not shifted. You're wondering why and overthinking it way too much. That's what's holding you back, overthinking everything you've done/are going to do. I heard "you dug your own grave; you have to make a way out now." You're not dead, you're alive and well. Get out of this hole by yourself. Play Minecraft, get a dog, and breed them (LMAO WTF AM I HEARING HELP) just have fun. Overthinking is just making this hole deeper. Also, while writing this, my cat kept going up and down the stairs, like she didn't know what to do. I think she felt stuck and doesn't know how to move forward OR backwards. I suggest some shadow work.

3. How is your s/o doing?

OMG IMMEDIETLY, I GOT SO MUCH HAPPIER OMG!! just joy came around me. I feel like they know you're gonna get past this hardship soon, and they're happy you even read this. I can tell they love you (feminine energy) so damn much, and they may be a bit clingy. "You got this, move forward, and you'll see the beautiful sunset."

Are sunsets important to you guys?

pile 2; peace

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"Do I have to do this? Oh my God." LITERAL BAKUGOU ENERGY OMG "Hi, I guess. Do something, don't just sit on your ass all day. That's all I got Arsyn, can I leave?" LMAO YES THEY ACTUALLY SAID THIS SHIT this person wants you to do something, like actually try to shift? I feel like you guys expect spirit to do everything. Nope. you have to put time and effort into this.

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

omg while typing the question i got a headache and now a toothache. Maybe you're beating yourself up for something that has no use, getting into fights, then being distracted from actually trying to shift. Avoid conflict, and things will get better. Also, I heard try to shift at least one time this week. Picking it back up will be really helpful : )

3. How is your s/o doing?

omg I'm getting so much mixed energy from this. for some your s/o is lowkey mad at you for not even trying to interact with you, but for others they're proud?? I'm gonna split this question up for each s/o energy I'm feeling.

S/o 2.1 is mad in general, again bakugou vibes, and just wants you to try and do something with your life. You know you can pick this shit up faster, you know you have enough energy to do it, but you're wasting that potential on shit that doesn't matter.

S/o 2.2 is proud that you've been resting but wants you to pick shifting back up because they want to see the REAL you, not your clone. I can tell they have a lot of love for you, and they always try to be positive when thinking about you, even when negative things happen. i also hear that you guys may be attracted to pile 3 for question 2? i haven't typed pile three atm so, ig see what's in store for you?

pile 3; explosion

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"HeyYYY whats up? how you doing? I know you've been waiting for someone to ask you that. Well, why don't you talk to people more about your interests if you think you have nobody to talk to? Talk to me about them!! Write your s/o a letter about them maybe? That's cool! Do that! Go! Shoo!"

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

Distractions. That's the only word I can use to describe me writing this last pile too. I've been distracted the whole time typing this. I've been so distracted. Mainly with gender identity shit (transgender memes mostly, I just sent IceChips a few) AND NOW IM LOOKIGN AT CUTE PUPPIES I MEAN LOOK AT THIS OMG

So some advice, focus on one thing. Use an ADHD method or something that won't make you fly away with funky thoughts. You got this. One step at a time, not five steps in a circle.

3. How is your s/o doing?

omg i can tell you guys are worried about them, thats so cute omg! i can tell you want to hug them, and i know the miss you too, they want hugs and kisses and they just want to make sure you're okay. I feel like they put you first and love physical touch. They miss you, but overall with academics, and live, they're good. They just miss you and want some hugs. Channel them and send them love, please.

[plusvanity]

To make this clear, Old Mayhem and me NEVER attacked one another.

There's no animosity going on between me and her. Although in the same 'fandom', our blogs exist separately and don't overlap. This doesn't mean hatred. This simply means a different public. The effort that me and her seems to put in the content that we create is massive, so as I said before, I will say I again, be a decent person and don't spread misinformation about what my dynamic between me and her is like. Also, don't spread hateful messages in anyone's inbox about how 'shit their art is' or 'how dare you not like this blog??' Because you NEVER know if the person who reads it has s*****e thoughts and the LAST THING that they read is your spiteful message. It happened with me before, and I wouldn't wish this feeling even on the worst people in my life.

This is all I had to say regarding Old Mayhem.

Now, I want to address the real issue who's name I didn't mention until now, Kelma 69, the one blog who's proud description is 'Getting rid of weird Mayhem fans, mostly from Pelle's fans'.

I don't even have to add anything about this description, her malicious 'witch hunt' intentions are more than obvious and the fact that I seem to be her number one target is sending a shiver down my spine.

I don't have an issue with people who block me and move on with their lives, this is normal, it's expected. But I have an issue with someone who blocks me and keeps endlessly talking about me with every chance they've got, so I want to ask her why?

I never interacted with her before, yet she comes across so vicious about my art and fiction for seemingly no reason other than envy.

Of cause that you're entitled to your own opinion, of course that you don't have to like me, this is absolutely alright, but you should assume your words instead of hiding behind blogs that had been here long before you or 'adjusting' your statements to how it seems more convenient for you.

Calling my art 'crap', than saying 'I'm not insulting the artist' is blatantly lying with proofs on her own page.

Also, the fact that she was both following me and my other artist friends, liking our 'Vargelle' fanarts until someone brought this to her attention and she suddenly blocked me and my friends is a 'getting caught' behaviour. I can understand that she may had liked those fanarts because of Pelle's design, as she mentioned at one point, but some of those drawings didn't even had Pelle's face in it, so how does this work? She also liked fanarts of Varg (alone) even if she hates Varg more than anything, so was this for his 'design' too? Is it?

Also, her parasitic tendency to accociate herself with Old Mayhem to seem relevant, to gain attention and admiration denote very evident deceiving and manipulating tactics.

Another aspect of her double-faced behaviour is the fact that she presents herself as 'shy' when she has no problem whatsoever getting rid of what might step out of her appreciation area. Shyness doesn't come with blunt insults and a covert need for conflict and drama. Shy people doesn't seek reactions, they don't go out to hate on people to boost up their ego and shy people DON'T throw the 'you just play the victim' card whenever they can't find solid arguments against their accusation.

Is calling out someone's falsehood the equivalent of 'playing' the victim? Is this the way to wash your hands clean from taking responsibility?

The fact that you won't allow a conversation to take place and once you consider that 'you're done playing your game' you pull out, just shows how unwilling you are to recognise what you've done.

I hope everyone can leave behind this senseless drama. I'm so sick and tired talking like a broken record about these things.

Live and let live. There's so much to do in life other than being angry about fiction, trust me.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Make Do

Author's note: Catius in Living waters. Thank you to @egrets-not-regrets for letting me borrow their OCs Erriox and Lenora. And helping with getting their voices right. I love writing with you! :). Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow their OC Cedric.

Summary: Catius meets Erriox and Lenora for the first time.

Warnings: Brief suicidal thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Catius was scratching at his chin, growing a beard is itchier and more annoying than he’d thought it’d be. No wonder most of his older brothers of the Ultramarine chapter preferred to be clean shaven, it was easier to upkeep and less messy when eating and clean up for afterwards. 

Still, it was too much effort to try and shave, one of the times he’d tried to the razor had looked more tempting to draw it against one of his wrists then against his face full of bristles. As soon as he’d had that thought, he’d recoiled, but blinked as he’d saw his hand move, almost on it’s own towards one of his wrists. 

Catius had shaken his head and dropped the razor, it floated in the water and he rubbed his face groaning a little before grabbing the razor and staring at it as it shined in the hazy light. After he’d had that thought Jophiel had come zooming into their designated bathing area and had whined about needing help with his wings. Again.

He tucked the razor back where it was supposed to go as he followed after Jophiel with an amused huff as he helped Jophiel sort out his wings. Claude comes swimming over to help with Jophiel’s other wing. Catius smelled a ‘trap’ and highly suspected that Claude and Jophiel were going to try and convince him to meet with Erriox and Mama Lenora.

They do, in fact, plead their case as to why he should meet with Erriox and Mama Lenora, and why them first. Ah- they have a bet going with Ramiel and Cedric, to see which pair could get him to meet the … the new Authority figures and adoptive family members that his closest people were very fond of.

It had taken some soul searching, but as the Codex had stated, knowing one’s self and one’s flaws and limitations helped one be able to overcome them. As well as how to protect your weak points and how to not have them used against you, as much as you can, at least. 

He’d realized, much to his chagrin, that due to… due to how he and his Primaris Brothers were trained on Mars, and… and what had happened prior to him coming to Ancient Terra… he seems to have developed a deep seated terror and fear of Authority Figures.

 It’s something his fellow Primaris Brothers have as well, to a lesser extent, and mostly for those who are older and of their chapter and/or geneline. The only way to overcome a fear, is to face it head on, and with, ideally support, and to try to use logic instead of emotion.

That had seemed so easy to understand and read on pages but trying to do that in practice is much harder, and far more… messy than he’d anticipated, even though he knows that war and in actuality is where plans and reason goes to die, frequently, often and in twisted way that blow up or worse so, so spectacularly.

He notices Cedric swimming into the designated bathing area, but gets distracted by Jophiel and Claude some more. Ramiel is heading over to the three of them with one of his Chaplain Expressions on his face. Oh no. He doesn’t want to deal with that, not at all. 

“So… when do you want me to meet Lenora and Erriox?” Catius says calmly to Jophiel and Claude, both of them perking up at his question, both of them grinning brightly at him.

“I’ll go talk to Mama Lenora and big brother Erriox,” Jophiel says, “And ask them where they want to meet you!’

“I’ll talk to Mara and the Gannet Aunties and cousins about meeting you as well.” Claude says with a grin.

“I didn’t say anything about meeting the Gannet Aunties and harpies!” Catius protests.

“Well- they know about you, and are likely to have a meeting spot on the beaches near the cliff face where they live,” Claude says, “And so it’s better to let them know that you’re there to meet Mama Lenora and Big Brother Errriox, and have them not worry so much.”

“And then have them descend on me to say hi as well,” Catius says, eyes narrowing a little, “I remember the reactions each of you first had to the Gannet Harpies- and how overwhelming in a good way they were.”

“It won’t seem like it at the time,” Cedric pipes up, having tucked something metal into a pocket, “but it will be good for you- it was good for us, just… let them know when you need some space to… recharge. And it’ll be fine.”

“... I guess,” Catius says with a heaving grumbling sigh.

At least Ramiel’s expression had shifted to less of a worried-assessing-Chaplain expression, to more of a happy-brother-cousin look. He rubs his face and winces, “If I’m going to be meeting so many people, I have to look presentable. And this fuzz on my face isn’t very presentable, is it?”

“If you don’t want to look like half a fuzzy peach…” says Jophiel teasingly, “Then yeah!”

“Brat!” Catius says as he grabs Jophiel and puts him into a headlock and rubs his knuckles against the other’s short hair. Jophiel’s flailing squeaks and whines are music to his ears.

His eyes catch the armor- of his fallen Primaris Marine and his hearts grows heavier. It’s not Apothecary Armor, and isn’t the right colors. But- but, if they could find a trusted smith (likely a Salamander… or if Erriox truly is legit) perhaps him, to help repurpose the armor into something that Cedric could use.

He lets go of Jophiel once he believes the other is properly sorry for being a smart ass… for approximately five seconds at least. He swims to the bathing area and tries to find the shaving razor and can’t find it. 

Catius frowns, he knows he put it away properly, and he searches the entire area for the Throne-cursed thing. He pokes his head out and asks, “Do any of you know where the shaving razor went? I can’t find the accursed thing.”

“I was sharpening it,” Cedric says, there is something odd to his tone of voice that has Catius eyeing his Apothecary cousin-brother through narrowed eyes.

“Can I have it back?” Catius asks as he arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms of his chest.

“Sure- I finished sharpening it,” Cedric says easily, even though there is an… odd tension to the other’s shoulders.

Catius shrugs and grabs it, “I’ll sharpen it once I’m done with it.”

He shaves his face easily and cleanly, making sure to get his face nice and clean as he finishes sharpening the razor and then putting it away properly. He’s told by Jophiel and Claude that they are going to meet him near the beaches of the Rock where the Gannet Harpies live in four days.

Catius nods and tries not to grow more anxious and nervous as he thinks about what kind of gifts to bring them. Iron Warriors and Ultramarines have a rocky history- what with one Chapter turning Traitor, and the other saying Loyal. 

His stomach seizes a little as he knows that the older space marine will have some pointed questions. Especially when he only sees one Ultramarine Scout, instead of four with a Veteran Sergeant watching over them.

… 

Hopefully something more true than lies would work. He’d arrived on Ancient Terra alone, uncertain if his brothers still lived on in their far-flung time, or where scattered to the seven seas of Ancient Terra. He really hopes Erriox doesn’t ask why he doesn’t try to join up with a Loyalist Sons of Guilliman shoal. 

Although again, he has an answer that has more truth than lies in it, that his vox system is busted, he can receive messages, but not send them. Besides- he has a duty to help his fellow Primaris brothers that he’s found… Several of them are Specialists, rare, and valuable ones at that.

He picks through his collections of rocks, shells and other interesting bits and bobs, hoping that they’ll work out nicely as gifts for Lenora and Erriox. He keeps them in separate satchels so that they don’t rub up against each other and break.

Catius follows after Jophiel and Claude, occasionally chiming in on their conversation, mostly he thinking about things. About hypothetical scenarios and what could happen, what are the best case scenarios, what are the worst case scenarios, what are the most likely scenarios to occur, what are the least likely scenarios that could happen.

‘I wonder what would happen if-’ Catius thinks as he starts to slow his swimming speed as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks, but is interrupted by Jophiel calling out.

“Catius!” His annoying baby cousin-brother shouts out, “Ground control to Catius!”

“What?” Catius says as he tries not to snap his teeth at the other irritatedly at having his thoughts interrupted.

“You were lost in your head,” Jophiel says poking one of his cheeks, “Stop it. Overthinking will do you no good.”

“I wasn’t over thinking!” Catius says defensively.

“... Uh huh,” Jophiel says unconvinced as he loops one of his arms around one of Catius’s arms and tugging him through the water at a faster pace, “sure. I believe that.”

Catius scowls at the sarcastic little shit and calls him as such, tugging on one of the other’s ears reprimanding, to which Jophiel whines and flails dramatically for the “Bully! You are Bullying me! Claude… help!”

Claude turns back and snorts, “With what?”

“Catius is being mean!” Jophiel whines at Claude. 

The Ravenguard snorts at that, saying sarcastically. “Sure, he’s the meanest at times.”

“And don’t you two forget it,” Catius says, playing along with the silliness. 

They reach the beach where they had agreed to meet with Lenora and Erriox, all three of them activating their swimming through the air abilities, as crawling on a beach is terribly ungainly and ungraceful, also mildly painful.

Jophiel says, “I’m going to go say hi to our Gannet Aunties and Cousins, see y’all in a bit.”

“Have fun,” Catius and Claude say at the same time.

Claude lazily swims through the air for a bit, peering nearby a cliff and a scowl appears on his face.

“What is it?” Catius asks him, concerned.

“Those damned Hydra are being nosy.” Claude says, “I’ll drive them off.”

“... Good luck with that?” Catius says, “Holler if you need rescue from the clutches of the Hydra.

“I will if I do.” Claude says as he swims off through the air to go keep the Hydras from coming over here and pestering the already anxious enough Catius. 

Catius doesn’t mind being alone, even if that means the thoughts in his heads slowly, and steadily grow louder and his hearts sometimes race as he rubs his sweaty hands against his scales to get them dry.

He turns his head when he hears something and spots the First Born Iron Warrior swim up to him from the ocean and he dips his head in a greeting. “Hello Sir, Jophiel and the others have talked a lot about you and Miss Lenora.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Erriox says as he eyes the blue and gold colored Scout. He tilts his head a little and asks. “Where’s your shoal?”

“You’ve met them,” Catius says with a blink, “It’s Jophiel, Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel.”

“Yeah- they’re your friends, but you are a Scout, and an Ultramarime at that, your kindred don’t let you Scouts out in units less than five,” Erroix says, crossing his arms as he gazes at him, eyes sharp and assessing.

Catius can’t keep looking into Erriox’s face the whole time as he speaks, looking away as he says, “... I haven’t been able to find other living Ultramarines or Sons of Guilliman yet, sir.”

Erriox narrows his eyes further at Catius’s words, before he can continue, they both turn to see an Ospery Harpy landing as she calls out to Erriox, her clawed hands on her hips, “Now Erriox, what have I said about being nice to the Fledglings?”

Erriox huffs at that and backs off a little, “I’m so curious about these boys- plenty of mysteries and secrets, especially for Scouts their age. For his kind of Scout-ling, its rare to see him on his own. I should have a scowling Sargent breathing down my neck. And four other chirpy little Scouts watching me from the water, and yet- there’s no one but us.”

Erriox has questions- he as a lot of questions, more now that he’s met Catius. The two Black Templars are both Specialists of rare specialties. Claude is a… raven guard? He thinks- seems like a normal battle brother, scout aged. 

Jophiel is a winged Librarian son of Sanguinius. He knows how hideously overprotective all Sons of the Ninth Primarch are of their Librarians, of their brothers with wings- and those with both? Especially so. 

Alas, he needs the Scouts to trust him, before he can begin to have his questions answered. Which really grinds his gears about that- like sand chafing against his scales, which is itchy, annoying and constantly at the back of his mind.

His train of thought is broken when Lenora’s wing nudges him. She laughs and gently scolds her mate, “I’m sure there’s more time for questions in the future, no need to overwhelm the poor fledgling here. Jophi would be upset if you scared him off.”

She turned to Catius with a friendly smile, “You are Catius, right? Jophi and Claude talked quite a bit about you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Catius says with a polite nod, peering down at her with intense ocean blue eyes, “They have talked a lot about the two of you. I’d like to thank you both for your kindness and care. Especially to Jophiel- he’s… a lot more sure of himself and steady than I’ve ever seen him before.”

He rifles through his satchels and pulls out some really neat rocks and shells, “I brought gifts for you both.”

Catius shifts a little, his tail moving, showing his anxiety with the way it flicks from side to side, he is a little uncertain, “Even Ramiel and Cedric seem to be doing a lot better as they’ve gotten to know the two of you as well.”

“Thank you.” She takes his gifts with a smile, being reminded of the way her other fledglings had been when they first met.  Lenora’s gaze became warm, “They have changed quite a bit, haven’t they…” she pauses feeling Erriox’s tail curl around her, “I’m glad you all have each other to lean on. It seems you have a deep sense of brotherhood among you.”

Catius nods, a fond smile brightening his features, “They are doing a lot better, and I’m glad to have found them all again… Being on Ancient Terra is a Second Chance… a way to have things… hopefully go better.”

He’s heard bits and pieces from his brothers, on what’s happened to them. The only one who’s kept his mouth shut and hasn’t told a single one of them what happened just before they’d found themselves on Ancient Terra is Jophiel. Which worries him, what happened to them all sucked in one way or another.

“... Did you have any questions?” Catius asks, “I’ll try to answer some of them.”

Erriox rumbled a reply, “Your brothers have told us bits of stories about each other, you included.”

“That’s good,” Catius says, not sure what to say next. “... Do you… know someone who can fix or alter armor?”

Atlas’s armor is going to not-rust, as Ceramite doesn’t rust, but it shouldn’t go to disuse or disrepair. Not when Cedric doesn’t have a lick of armor of his own. It’s just… none of them knows how to alter or change it, other than painting (and they don’t have the paint to change the colors) to alter it to better fit Cedric.

“I can take a look at it. Depending on what needs to be done, I can fix it or know someone who can.” The Iron Warrior assured him. 

“The armor is mostly whole,” Catius says slowly, “Just some holes where… Predators of the Mad-Void Sea attacked him. I … received a distress call from one of my fellow Primaris Ultramarines…I was unable to find him in time to administer first aid, but I was able to recover his body, so that Cedric and Ramiel could administer last rights. It’s not the right colors- and doesn’t have the Specialist bits, but Cedric really should get some armor.”

“I’m sorry about your brother, Catius.” Lenora replied. 

“I had thought he was already lost to me,” Catius says, “thank you for your kind words Miss Lenora.”

Erriox understands what Catius means. Repurposing their fallen battle-brothers’ armor is something that’s done. It’s hearts-breaking, weary work. Not something that Scouts so young usually have to contend with doing fully on their own, at least, not unless they are a Lamenter, those poor sods. 

At least, from what he’s heard about the Lamenters from brothers and cousins from post-heresy. More than observing and helping move the bodies, then from the way that Catius’s eyes had grown haunted, the poor Scout likely found his brother’s cooling body and then dragged the dead weight back to the rest of the Scouts.

He’d seen a new sorrow, and sadness in the other Scouts recently, and he and Lenora had tried to gently press, but had gotten some vague answers. Grief is a bitter, old friend to Erriox, and so is Death are two of the constant companions that he’s known since he’d become an Aspirant for the Iron Warriors. He’s only grown more familiar with them over the centuries.

“Bring it to the nest and we can have a look at it and see what can be done. If the armor is mostly whole, it will only be a matter of fitting it to Cedric. For the more specialized parts of apothecary armor, that will have to wait. I’m sure Cedric would have no issue wearing basic armor for now.” Erriox will have to ask around his apothecary brothers and see what they know. 

“Yes sir,” Catius says with a nod, he starts to say something else, but struggles to get the words out, glance at Erriox, at Lenora and the ground. “There is… there are other things we were able to…”

He glances at Lenora hesitantly, not sure how much she knows, and what he could say, or should say while she’s also able to hear him, but he doesn’t know how to politely ask her to leave as he tells Erriox that they were able to salvage some of the most valuable organs of a Space Marine from his dead brother. Mortals tended to get horrified by some of the less glorious, and more gory details of being what the Astartes are. 

“You mean his organs?” Erriox asked, so much for keeping gory details unsaid. Catius watched Lenora’s reaction, she was still listening, but with none of the squeamishness he had been expecting. 

He relaxed as she didn’t grow disgusted at Erriox’s words, he’s still speaking one of the common tongues on Ancient Terra- so she can understand what they are saying, as he hadn’t wanted to speak in a language she didn’t know in front of her, as that could be a terribly rude faux-pas.

“Yes sir,” Catius says with a nod, “Hearts, lungs, progeniod, Haemastamen, Occulobe, Neurglottis, Ossmodula, Larrman Organ, Omophagea, Melanochrome, Mucranoid, Magnificat, sinew coils, immortis glands, unfortunately his Belisarian Furnace was unsalvageable.”

He pauses as he runs through the list, “unfortunately we didn’t have enough organ carriers for the common organs to be harvested, even though they were harvestable.”

Erriox places his hand on the Scoutling’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “You’ve done what you could and recovered what can be recovered. I will resupply those containers for you boys from the base and make sure you have enough. Your brother was lucky enough to at least be sent off by a familiar face.”

I could’ve done more. If I was faster, maybe Atlas… Atlas could’ve… Catius blinks, trying to get rid of the feeling of grains of sand irritating his eyes. He can’t think of that right now, not in front of Lenora and Erriox. “Thank you,” his voice cracks a little, he unintentionally leans a little into Erriox’s touch.

It takes a few minutes for the burning sensation in his throat to abate enough, and the stinging sand feeling in his eyes he coughed once or twice to clear his throat as he blinked rapidly. “I can get the Armour brought over to your nest in a couple of days. Th-thank you for your help. Uhm.. is there something I can procure for trade? For the … containers and the armor.”

He knows that both things likely are more expensive due to a lack of resources on Ancient Terra. It will be good to have Cedric at least partially armored.

Erriox shook his head, “Not for now. It would be good to get Cedric set up with his own armor considering he’s the only one of you who is without one. And with the way you found your battle-brother, you should be prepared in case this happens again, as grim as it sounds.” 

The older mer thought for a moment, before asking, “Do you have a place to store your brother’s organs?”

“Not for long term, sir,” Catius says after a moment of thought as he runs the requirements for long term organ storage in his head.

“My shoal’s base has a place to store geneseed and organs. The apothecaries there would be able to take them off your hands. We are not purely all Iron Warriors and have a number of members from various legions and chapters. Your brother’s remains will be treated with respect, if that eases your mind any.” Erriox suggested, seeing the discomfort written all over the young mer’s face. 

Catius shoulders sag with relief and nods. “I will speak with Cedric and the others so we can coordinate a time to drop off the organs and armor safely. Thank you sir.”

He feels what seems to be a weighted cloak drape over his shoulders. Looking to his side, Catius sees Lenora’s understanding smile, realizing it was her wing that was covering him. 

She could hear the reluctance left in his reply, “When you’re ready, Catius. It’s not easy to let go of a loved one.” Giving his shoulder a squeeze, “If you wish, you can keep your brother’s remains temporarily in the cold storage with the medicinal ingredients and healing potions. Though it is not as secure as what I imagine the storage vaults at the base would be.” 

“Thank you,” he says softly. The pressure feels nice, soothing. “I… I think I want to do that for a while.”

Catius duck's his head a little, such things aren't how it is usually done. Also grief, while something all Astartes go through with. He knows the scolding that he'd usually get for trying to hold onto such valuable pieces of his brothers. But that is in the distant future, while this Ancient Terra is his now, where he can afford to be just a little selfish.

Lenora looks at her mate in question, “Erriox, If his broken armor is all that’s left of his brother, perhaps a small piece can be taken and kept like a charm or a momento? It is a tradition for us harpies to keep a talon or feathers from loved ones who have passed. Could Catius do the same?”

“I’ll see what can be done once I see the armor.” Erriox replies. 

The harpy turns back to the Primaris mer, “What do you think, Catius?”

Catius hadn’t thought of that, however he likes the idea a lot, “that would… I would really like to have a little piece of his armor if its… it's something that can be done.”

The Iron Warrior answered, “We will try. For now, I suspect Cedric has your brother’s organs stored somewhere, you can tell him to bring them home to store them. He will know where to put them.”

Lenora added, “And if you’d like, you can stay with us at our home nest. Your brothers would be happy to have you with them. Jophi’s been rather worried about you.”

“I will tell Cedric about moving the organs,” Catius says. Before giving them a shy smile about the offer of the nest, “i… I think I'd like to move in with you.”

Erriox snorted with amusement, “Jophiel has already made a spot ready for you for quite some time. I’m sure you have an idea of his plan to have all of you adopted by us.”

Catius couldn't have stopped himself from laughing if he tried. He shakes his head and recovers, rubbing his face free of tears, happy ones this time. 

“That doesn't surprise me that he planned that,” Catius says after a couple of attempts, “he means well… And wants the people he loves together.”

“Well, I am happy that you’ll be joining us as well.” Lenora let out a pleased trill, wrapping her wings around her newest son as she nuzzles him. 

“Thank you for having me,” Catius says nodding his head to Lenora and Erriox gratefully.

Erriox gives his mate a small smile. Lenora’s softness is one of those things he had unexpectedly grown fond of during their time together. He can also see it is what draws the Primaris Scoutlings to her so easily and has grown their  “little” family so quickly. It’s an unexpected change to suddenly become a de facto Scout Sergeant (or “father” as she teases him) of this mix of Primaris Scoutlings, but so long as it was with Lenora, Erriox finds he doesn’t mind it at all. 

‘They were right,’ Catius thought a touch ruefully as he shyly smiled at Erriox and Lenora. 

Lenora and Erriox are wonderful, kind people, kinder than many he’d met or heard of, before coming to Ancient Terra. He didn’t know of many… Or any, really First Born Cousins who would essentially become a Scout Sargent to a mixed group of non-chapter younger brothers. Especially Primaris Scouts,  even the ones that tended to tolerate them seemed to be distrusting of them, disliked them.

[queerstake]

As a queer drawn to the faith and trying to deal with the messiness of entering into everything, I've been trying hard to read more of the Book of Mormon because I only have a very vague understanding of it's Whole Deal, but executive dysfunction, ADHD, and honestly, a million other excuses are making it very difficult. Are there any good resources for walking through the fundamentals? Childish but I feel like I'm disappointing the Lord if I'm not more on top of this.

Hi anon! I totally get it and yes, I can think of a few ideas!

If you're looking for ways to understand the BoM (or even just general doctrine) from more of a bird's eye view:

I hope you don't find this silly, but when I was a kid, the church published an illustrated children's version of the BoM that's obviously way quicker to flip through. It might be harder for you to find those exact editions I read as a kid if you don't have ready access to a church library, BUT I found this!! It's (almost) the ENTIRE BoM illustrated and summarized and it's online!

Looks like they put out videos too that summarize the BoM beginning to end. Here's a link to the video series. I haven't seen these, so I can't vouch for them, but they might be helpful! Similarly, there's a BoM in 60 seconds video you might find helpful.

If you'd benefit from a schedule, the church is currently studying the BoM in sunday school! The past few years, we've been using a study guide called Come Follow Me with weekly assigned reading chapters. I've actually been working on posts about CFM as they relate to queer mormon theology, but I haven't had much posted yet since I've been having a rocky start to 2024. As things improve, I'll be able to hopefully even establish a schedule on this blog!

I'm not sure if missionary lessons is something you're interested in at this point, and it's definitely not something you ever need to do, but the missionary lessons themselves are a pretty good doctrine intro if you're looking for just Mormonism 101 in a digestible way. The missionaries teach out a book called Preach My Gospel, which is available right here. You'll be interested in the lessons, which are found in Chapter 3. If you just scroll down, you'll see some of the links are labeled Lesson instead of Chapter--just click on those bad boys. And if you have any doctrinal questions, I'm always MORE than happy to talk about the church! You'll probably get a faster answer DMing me personally at @logans-mormon-blog, but I'll always answer asks here as soon as time permits.

If you're looking for easier ways to finish the BoM from beginning to end:

The BoM on tape. The church has an audiobook version available on the Gospel Library app and other audio apps like Spotify.

The Reader's Edition. If you can get your hand on a reader's edition, a lot of people find this is an easier way to plow through the BoM. What's special about this one is that it's formatted not like scripture but like prose, and it really does change the reading experience!

I don't know if this helps any, but I struggle with some of the same issues as you and I'm always bitterly disappointed when I'm not able to move mountains. If I had my way, I'd be the most well-read scriptorian of all time and this blog would be updated constantly. But life often doesn't shake out that way. I spend way more time than I want to with my brain entirely burned out of my head. So you're not alone, if that's any comfort. I think God gets it--he made our brains, after all, and knows how hard it is to wrestle with. It's easier said than done, but don't beat yourself up. God loves the both of us and he's the most perfectly patient person who's ever lived. He's not frustrated or disappointed with our efforts. Religion exists, in my opinion, to help improve and enrich our lives, not make them more challenging OR even to make them perfect if we only could just run fast enough. I too wish I could be more diligent and on it, but shit happens, right? And we're not on earth to be perfect, we're here to be happy and to learn. When Joseph Smith was translating the BoM, God told him "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end." D&C 10:4. We're doing our damndest, and that's all God even wants from us.

If anyone else has more resource ideas, please let us know!

-Logan

[leonwifey]

hello! i've just found your blog but totally think your works are really beautiful! As your requests are open, can I ask for some angst? (if you don't feel like it, feel free to ignore) Like Leon and reader are happily married but she can't help but feel like Ada is still on his mind (maby he murmurs her name while having a nightmare or is too eager when someone says even a word abt her). Happy ending or not, just whatever you feel comfortable with. Thank u in advance!

"𝑯𝑬𝑹 " — there is no use in getting her off leon’s mind.

˚୨୧ genre — angst

˚୨୧ word count — 1,203

˚୨୧ note — WOW... as an aeon lover and supporter, this was painful to write!! i ate the request up though. maybe i just love making our dear reader miserable. anyways, thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun. i also wrote this with RE6 leon/ada in mind because they are very married in that game. and for everyone else here for the pain, my requests are open!

There is this thing that likes to consume you and your thoughts. It lives to eat at your mind and all of the parts that keep you sane. There is this thing that squeezes you in unyielding doubt like a snake, strangling you with insecurity. It is a thing shrouded in alluring mystery and temptation, you can only wish that it had been a dream all along. Even when you try your damndest to place it away, hidden in a dark room at the deepest depths of your mind, that woman will always be there lurking. 

There is a certain Ada Wong. 

And it seems she likes to live in Leon’s mind, too.

The moment Leon returned from his mission in China, things immediately felt out of place. You had felt the chill the second he stepped into the house and dropped his bags. A chaste kiss at your temple and nothing more. Left stunned and speechless in the dimly lit hallway, you felt like a stranger in your own home as you watched your husband make an immediate march into your shared bedroom. 

You told yourself that he was tired. Leon saw things beyond your imagination, felt emotions you could never endure, erased faces you’d never meet. Those hands had done the unspeakable and still did you make a promise to have and to hold them forever. You knew all too well that the world he lived in was just nowhere near the one you did. Some things were meant to stay unknown. Yet desperately so, you had wanted to believe in him. To believe that it was merely pure exhaustion that loomed over him and hid beneath his heavy eyelids. 

Not the ghostly memory of a love he had lost countless times.

Reunited in the bedroom, you found Leon lying on his back with his arm draped across his face. It seemed that he was still awake, you watched his bare chest rise and fall slowly. This was something you’d seen before, nothing of his was unfamiliar to you anymore. Some nights would be quieter than others, filled with loud thoughts and moonlight. Silently, you crawl back into bed without a word.

A shift in the bed, a toss and a turn, a heavy sigh. Familiar warmth crept beneath your shirt and hooked itself around your stomach, pulling you closer and snug against a beating chest. You felt his lips linger near the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, fingers searching for yours underneath the duvet.

“It’s okay,” You didn’t make an effort to move, deciding to shut your eyes instead. “Just get some rest, baby. You’ve had a long trip.”

Thinking that that was the closing curtain, you were surprised to be turned around and face the man you had been missing for months. Even in the dark could you see the way those misty blue eyes shimmered. Leon had a face you could never tire from, one that would follow you to the end. You could never be angry at such a face.

“Can’t sleep?” You offered lamely, unsure of what to make of the look he gave you.

You watched as he studied you, for a moment before releasing an exhale. Your hands slipped out of his arms to play with the strands of blonde that had long grown since the last time you had seen him. At your touch, he dipped his face into the crook of your neck. “I missed you like crazy, sweetheart. Couldn’t sleep much without you.” 

 “You poor thing,” You coo, running your fingers through his hair. “I bet you couldn’t sleep on that plane to China.”

He lets out a dry laugh, tickling you with his stubble. “Yeah, you have no idea.”

“I'm just glad you’re home. Finally.”

“Mhm,” Leon lets out a small yawn, almost resembling a tired puppy. “I love you. You know that?”

You twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, pulling your nose against his. “I think I know more than you’ll ever know.”

“Hey,” His nose nudges you sleepily. “Say it back.”

You laughed softly, biting your lip at having his playfulness back. “I love you, too.” 

After the two of you had shared a few laughs and drowsy stories of your time without your other half, you were finally able to bask in the peaceful silence. Finally, were you able to sleep happily, wrapped in the strong arms of your lover in a bed that would no longer remain cold. Smiling at the reassuring sound of Leon’s soft snoring, you slowly wiggled your arm out of his embrace to stretch your hand out in front of you.

In the quiet bedroom with only the moon’s light serving as your night light, you wiggled your fingers in a silly dance. You watched bashfully at how the moonlight caught onto the stone on your fourth finger, a shimmering beacon of hope. Turning your hand in every direction, you were enchanted at the silver band’s lone twinkle in the darkness, a sight almost much like you. 

What rested on your finger was meant to serve as a promise, a symbol of endless days filled with love and sacrifice, an unbreakable key towards forever. And you were so supposed to be happy. 

A low murmuring takes you away from your thoughts. Lowering your hand, you listened carefully, wondering what your husband could be dreaming about. His mumbles had never been hard to decipher, you knew the agent too well. After all, Leon was your husband. Yet you felt your heart crumble when you had realized that what might have been Leon’s dream, was your nightmare.

“Ada…” He groaned, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t leave.”

Frozen in his hold, you didn’t know what to do. Of course, you had heard of this certain Ada before. It was hard to escape the subject when at times you’d hear stories from Chris or mentions of her during calls with Hunnigan. Leon would always seem too eager when it came to her.

That woman had always been some sort of mystery to you. You wondered about the beauty she held, the circumstances in which she met your husband, how she fell in love with him. Ada Wong was a piece of Leon’s story you will never be able to uncover. 

The thought frustrated you, annoyingly enough. That there would always be another woman sitting in the backburner of your husband’s mind. Someone who had seen parts of him you would never witness, someone who he offered his heart so willingly to. Although Leon promised to choose you as his for eternity, you couldn’t help but wonder if in another life, Ada would be his. 

With a heavy heart and a sigh, you stroked Leon’s head with a shaky hand. Your eyes studied every feature of his face, every detail that you could call yours. Were they Ada’s, too? In the midst of your sleepless night, you listened to the lonely beat of your heart. All you could do was sooth away his aches and fears, holding him close as his body shook. 

“It’ll be okay,” You sorrowfully whispered. “I promise, Ada is okay.”

[worriedvision]

HII it's my first time requesting so idk but ye

I really like your "stood up thrice" fic, I'm so obsess I keep coming back to it. I've been trying to find more stood up fics but can't so

Request:

Can you do stood up w Childe, Zhongli, Al haitham and Tighnari!! Super angsty if possible!!

On my sad era rn 🙏

Tyyyyy in advance<33

Okay so this has been in my inbox for a while (I think haha) and I've been meaning to get to this! Gender neutral reader, angst. Each of these characters will have different ways of them not showing up for a date, and while Alhaitham has had one done on this blog that was the reader being a wet wipe and letting Alhaitham do that three times instead of completely passing him by after he did so.

---

Tartaglia:

He was the one who asked you out, when he was in Liyue on a mission. You accept, somehow not knowing about his job, and he makes a time and place for you to meet up. You put on your best outfit, your best fragrance, as much effort as you could to leave a good impression during the date.

As you stand at the harbor, the location he told you, you wait with baited breath. After a few minutes pass, you start to worry. fifteen minutes after, you see him walking towards you.

...Only to walk past you, onto a boat. Before you could go after him, the ship leaves. He didn't make eye contact with you, he didn't turn his head or apologise in any way when you called out for him.

You look around, seeing the people around you give you a look of empathy as they realise you were stood up. Nobody had seen you this nice before, they knew you were looking forward to this date based on how you held yourself, as well as how you shrunk when he ignored you.

Zhongli:

You asked him out, finding him interesting and Hu Tao had played matchmaker in this case. He told so many interesting stories, and he was an intelligent man. Not to mention the looks, however he was the full package for you.

Sitting at the tea room you agreed on, you start to think you've thought too much about how lovely he was. You were sitting there for an hour, only leaving when one of the staff tell you that they were closing shop for the day.

He never told you why he didn't show for the date, and Hu Tao tried her hardest to reassure you this was just a one time mistake. She tries telling you that Zhongli is a smart man, and he would never turn down the chance to date you.

But you knew better, you knew that he didn't respect you enough to date you. He played you, and when you asked him why he wasn't there, he clears his throat before looking down at his pocket. He didn't apologise, either. He didn't give you any words, actually.

Alhaitham:

When you got asked out by Alhaitham, you had to ask him to repeat himself. Being the person who delivered whatever letter needed to be sent out regarding applications for the open Sage positions, you thought he didn't return your feelings. You look away bashfully when you say yes, and he tells you the location and time.

When he didn't show up, you decide to order for yourself. Halfway through your meal, Kaveh is the one that shows up instead of Alhaitham. Turns out, Alhaitham 'changed his mind', Kaveh quoted. Kaveh decided to sit with you, knowing it would only look embarrassing for you if he walked out after saying one thing.

Kaveh tried his best to cheer you up, but nothing could work after the excitement you felt when you waited for him. After he walks you home, you thank him for making it at least look like he was who you were waiting for.

The next day, Alhaitham asks you how your night was. After seeing you glare at him, he tells you that you need to stop putting people on pedestals. He explains that he knew about your feelings - how obvious it was to everyone - and he decided it would be the best way for you to move on. As much as you wanted to quit, you knew you had to find a job to fall back on, so from that point onwards you were cold to him.

It was only fair after he toyed with your feelings to 'make you realise you were being urealistic'.

Tighnari:

When you asked him out, he said he would be happy to be there. You tell him a time and place, him nodding and noting it down before reassuring you he would be there.

When your shift ended, you changed out of your forest ranger uniform to clean yourself up before going for the date. After making sure you look good, you head off. You actually showed up a little bit late, as something came up with your work.

Ten minutes later, Tighnari is there. You thought he was there for you, only to feel humiliated when he walks over to the table with his friends. He sits down, apologising for being late as he pulls out his deck of cards. When you hear someone pull out a chair across from you, you expect it to be someone needing a spare chair for their own table.

Only to see Dehya there. She asks you if you wanted her to drag Tighnari over, knowing about the date he was talking to her about being tonight. Shaking your head, you tell her you'd rather forget about this incident. Shrugging it off, you instead treat Dehya to a meal, your heart sinking because you heard Tighnari talking as if he didn't remember you had a date.

The next day, Tighnari assigns you your duties for the day before turning to leave. You ask him if he enjoyed his night, and he brushes it off by saying he enjoyed his time with his friends. He caught your disappointment, but he didn't know why.

He didn't approach you in the days after that, and you slowly processed the fact he stood you up despite looking like he was happy to go on a date with you while working alone on your shifts.