#nah i won't be using all the ship tags

[dobismuted]

You best not be eating anything near a Bridgerton... Unbeknownst to you, you've just turned into their fantasy. Your hungry ass is hungry for food. While that Bridgerton is hungry for you.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

after listening to an among us song i was given the drive to reboot this au so ,

originated from a doodle that spiraled , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au where ragatha is the ( unwilling ) host of a parasite called ' the influence ' which is a virus that only wants to spread and survive . she wasn't compliant about it at the beginning which was ' fixed ' with an itty bitty bit of psychological torment !

also yes i know the abbreviation is unfortunate and i do not care it's funny

even though ragatha's still our usual sweet little optimist , there is this persistent feeling of wrongness . too positive . too affectionate . it's like all of her humanity has been scooped out and you're left with the mask she made for others in the circus .

which is how the virus spread in the circus - they preyed on vulnerabilities which was what their host is perfect for . striking when the victim puts their guards down , making them submit under the guise that their problems will be fixed ... unfortunately it's a monkey's paw situation .

of course , that's only for this particular instance of the influencer ! something to note is that the virus takes a lot from the host's personality , so t.i's mellow and passive , only resorting to violence whenever necessary . t.i's not really an opposite ragatha she's more like a Dark , Fucked Up Version of ragatha the amazing digital circus . she cares a lot for everyone she considers a part of her hive , but it took a lot of manipulation and gaslighting for them to get infected .

caine is left uninfected because " i would do that if my goal is to destroy this place ! " t.i's ultimate fear has always been dying . it'll do everything to not die , to the point it's trying to spread out of the circus ( <- honestly take this info with a grain of salt i wrote this before i fully developed the story ) . unfortunately there's this jester who's resisting the virus with pure lesbian rage and is trying to stop her .

now rags would eventually get de-influenced and the circus will no longer be infected , but we will talk about the extremely rocky journey of recovering from knowing you harmed everyone you cared about Later

was this ' the influence ' that amanda ( ragatha's va ) keeps referencing ? sighs ... yeah . ( feels so surreal that i can say i have their seal of approval for this )

why ragatha ? in story , how is she not the perfect host ? metatextually , this is an au of an au - this came from a blog about ragatha getting a virus that is inconveniencing her life . i simply thought of an idea of ' hey what if the virus took over her body ' one day . then this abomination was born . i would reveal the why and how she got infected ... eventually .........

is she still afraid of centipedes ? is it a ragatha if she doesn't have a fear of centipedes

does pomni still use a taser ? yeah

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , no credit needed . for t.i as a character specifically , please credit me !

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

is suggestive content of t.i ok ? just don't send them to me , tag it as #tw suggestive or #suggestive so i could filter it out

is nsfw content of t.i ok ? my tiny artist hands are powerless against the unstoppable force that is the internet so my answer will not matter . that being said , i recommend that they're not put in the main au tag so people won't unexpectedly come across it . and no i do not want to see it please do not send them to me

could i draw fanart / write fanfic of this au ? 100% yes you could either mention me or tag it under #tadc influence au

does this au have an ask blog ? nah just a normal blog lol

READ THE COMIC ... I GUESS ... !!

the main story

oh boy a prologue

[ghostwiththeemost]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ FROM THE CRADLE TO CREMATION . . . DEATH JUST NEEDS A LITTLE CONVERSATION ~ !࿐ྂ

Hey babes~ seems ya found my blog! Welcome to my humble abode. You may be asking “who is this SEXY SEXY man?” Well I’ll tell ya! I’m Behjdbbdnf… Beejkbngd… Bug wine. 🪲🧃. Use the emojis babe. I can’t type my own fucking name apparently. How fucked up is THAT?! Ugh, anyway… Let’s get onto the real shit. I’m the boss bitch here, you should hire me to get some shitty humans out of your beloved home. Or, call me up to fuck. Either works.

Alright, alright. People put their info and shit so I’ll do just that. I’m 🪲🧃, but ya can call me “sexy” or “handsome” or “sweets” or “pretty boy” or anything ;)~ Kay, moving on! I’m the ghost with the most, the biggest dick in town babe. He/him, but I can also be your/yours~ ;) I don’t care for labels, I’m a sexual beast. You wanna talk? Talk. You wanna flirt? Flirt. Send nudes? Eeeehhhh… Probably not, sorry sweetheart. I’d totally say yes, but that’d get me banned.

Anything else? Yeah, a lot actually. Ask me about shit. I’m over 600 years old, I’ve seen a lot, done a lot, witnessed a lot, I’m the fuckin best. I mean look at me, I’m the coolest ghost in town! ;)~ Also the best dick. DEFINITELY the best dick.

Well well well! Quite Fancy seeing you back here! Yet ANOTHER wonderful roleplay blog, and even a BETTER character?!?!??!?!1 WOAHHHHH! Wowie!

Hi! I'm the wonderful mod behind this obnoxious green ghoul of a man, and I hope you can stay a bit, have a seat, chat a bit! Learn a bit, see some tags behind this wonderful super duper cool page, yakknow how it is!

The name's Dew! Dewey if you wanna be fancy, but nah, I'm just a guy on the internet here to write for his funny bug man. No formalities needed. The pronouns are HE/SHE! I'm Genderfluid and Gay!

Kay, mini bits of info here... I'm an adult! So that being said I'm going to keep a boundary on certain aspects such as some forms of nsfw and SOME ships. Mostly I don't care? I'd just prefer if you were to tell me or have your age in bio before deciding to imply nsfw ROLEPLAYS. Flirting or nsfw anons I don't really care about, it's bound to happen, but you get it. also beetlebabes dni you all SUUUUUCKKKK.

Let's see... I have some other accounts. @candycoffinss , @photographerstanheight , @screamingqueenxoxo ... Other stuff, we'll see what I reveal.

Right, right... Tags and extra info... |🪲| ~ 𝑴𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑺! - This is me talking!! >:] |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑺! - Replies to asks, you know how it is. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑱’𝑺 𝑽𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑺! - call for interacts maybe?? |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺! - Random yapping he does, reblogs... etc. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑯𝑨𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺! - Interactions Yeaaaaa

|🪲🔞| ~ 𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬! - yea some things will be suggestive labeled just in case pleeease be cautious tyyy beetlejuice can be a menace.

ALRIGHT! FINAL BIT OF INFO!!!!! This writing of beetlejuice is a mix of everything, but I'm mainly leaning toward Justin Collette's version of Beetlejuice. He's still Beetlejuice of course, but keep in mind he won't be much like Alex Brightman if you're looking for an adaptation of him! (...There will be crumbs tho. Pathetic meow meow...) ANYWAY! Yeah, Just wanted to throw that out there, I didn't know if people would want my head for it LMAOOOO but YEAH!!! I'm free w any interactions btw. other fandoms, other blogs, movie characters, musical characters, do it !! >:] ok I think that's it... until I decide to go bonkers again. thanks for reading if you got this far! smooches ur forehead /p

[mysticstarlightduck]

Friday Kiss Tag!💖

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)!

Rules: From your Story/WIP, share a snippet of your characters kissing. It can be any kiss, from familial pecks on the cheek, platonic kisses, forehead kisses, to full-blown makeouts

Okay! Since I don't have many actual kiss scenes for my current main WIPs, I'll go with a scene that falls under the Familial Peck category (thus it is in no way shape, or form shipping, its just innocent sibling fluff)!

Mine's a both cute/fluffy and kinda sad scene as well, from my WIP Scrapyard Boys, so let's get to it!

Rhys fiddled with his fingers, leaning on the glass panel that surrounded the train's cargo area, watching the neon lights of the city below. From this height and the bullet train's speed, the multicolored lights formed streaks in the sky, as the vehicle flew by like a flash. After being cooped up in that hellhole some called a lab for years, this sight was quite splendid. And to be frank, any mundane sight that wasn't chalk-white walls and emotionless faces walking around like clipboard-holding ants, would be awesome.

Completely immersed in the view below, letting his mind wander absently for the first time in a long time. The soft hiss of the train cutting through the air outside, the city sprawling and swirling down below, the soft smells that filled the cargo space: a whiff of leather from the bags stacked around them, the familiar scent of fuel, even the nagging smell of plastic - he didn't know how much he'd missed this until now and --

-- A yelp rang out beside him.

The teen almost jumped out of his own skin, accidentally hitting his head on the glass beside him, hand flying into his chest as his heart skipped a beat. Startled out of his peaceful musings by the sudden, unexpected sound, Rhys snapped his head to the side, and he saw his twin, sitting there beside him.

He'd been so awestruck by the overwhelming freedom they were experiencing, that he'd forgotten - for the briefest of seconds -about Gwyn, sleeping beside him. Or rather who had been sleeping beside him. The source of the yelp became apparent as soon as he locked eyes with her, now harried, hyperventilating, clinging to his hoodie for dear life.

A nightmare - Rhys didn't even need to ask to know. He'd had his fair share of those too, and in fact, it was usually him who woke himself up screaming most nights. An uncomfy side-effect of spending one's teen years in a government lab trying to make superheroes.

"Hey, hey." Rhys placed his hands on Gwyn's shoulders, nudging her to look at him, "We got out, we aren't there anymore."

The girl crosses her arms over her chest, hugging her knees to her chest, with a nervous pout, tears starting to subside "I know that. I know that." Gwyn frowns, leaning her head on his shoulder, "But what if they take us back?!"

Rhys considers it for a moment. He hadn't thought about that, actually. And it isn't something he'd like to imagine. At least not right now. So he gives her a prankster smile, "Nah, they won't. If they try, we can beat 'em. We'll freeze the agents they send after us into icicles before they even know what hit them, and they'll leave us alone after a while."

She looks up at him, hesitant, wiping at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, "You sure?"

Rhys wasn't sure. But he didn't let it show. "Look around you," He gestured to their surroundings, and the beautiful sights of the glowing city below, "If we got out of that place, we can stay out. We can do anything we want, and they can't stop us."

Gwyn finally gives him a mischievous smile of his own, tear streaed face brightening up, "Then I want," The girl pondered for a moment, brows furrowed, trying to think of what she wanted to do with their newfound freedom, "- I want to have ice cream and eat all the candies we can find. Then make a huge bowl of popcorn and watch those cheesy horror movies you liked."

Rhys' eyes light up, and for a moment, he felt like that kid again, before getting caught up in all of this, "Good plan!" He exclaimed, practically giddy, "Man, I can't wait for us to find Adrien's place - then we'll convince him to let us buy all the ice cream we want!"

"Oh, don't count on it. If he's still the same cheapskate Adrien we knew, his pantry probably consists of energy drinks, chicken nuggets, and a day-old confetti cake from the corner store." She quipped, smile growing brighter as she snorted out a laugh, "Oh, and cigarettes, can't forget the cigarettes."

Rhys laughed despite himself, nodding with a sly smirk, and mimicking a talk-show host's voice and posture, "Presenting: 'Adrien Rosetrom' and his not-so-brilliant podcast on 'how to wreck your lungs'. But the million-dollar question remains - will our star's dubious lifestyle let him outlive young adulthood?"

The twins broke out laughing, both at the absurdity of his joke and the fact that it was, in fact, somewhat true - that, combined with the adrenaline leaving their system, led to a pretty manic mix. A few moments later, the duo settled down, taking a moment to catch their breath with a giddy sigh, tension and fear almost forgotten.

After silence filled their surroundings once more, the only sounds that remained were the whoosh of air outside the bulletproof glass and the soft, barely noticeable whirring of the train's inner workings.

Leaning back against the window, Rhys pulled his twin closer, holding her in a one-armed hug, and Gwyn scooched closer, peeking over him to see the cities below. As she looked away, his smile faded. Rhys forced himself not to think of the agents that might come after them. The white walls of the lab flashed before his eyes. Whirring machines, needles drawing blood, and screens monitoring their every step.

He didn't want to go back at all.

Pulling his twin closer, he found himself placing a quick kiss on her messy head of hair, "...No one's gonna find us again."

He said, partially to her, but mostly, 80% mostly, to himself. Trying, and honestly failing, to soothe the anxiety that had begun to rage in the back of his mind after her comment. In his arms, Gwyn hugged him back and nodded, now focused on the sights outside. Eventually, they watched the train leave the city behind, now flying over the inky blue of the ocean, spotted white by clouds, - a sight they'd never seen before, and which thankfully helped bring his mind back to more pleasant topics, for a moment.

Despite that, long after Gwyn had fallen asleep again, Rhys' eyes couldn't help but stay glued to the horizon line, burning, fighting against the tiredness he felt.

It all seemed too unreal.

What if she was right? What if they couldn't run away? What if... this wasn't real? What if they ended up brainwashed like Laserstorm? Spectre's perfect puppets? Rhys' mind raced with those thoughts and a thousand others, spiraling, stocking the panic he'd forgotten he could feel. And deep down, despite knowing that they had indeed gotten out, that they had indeed made the most of an insanely lucky error of their supervisor, he feared that he let himself close his eyes and fall asleep, they would wake up back in that stark white room once more.

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @the-letterbox-archives @differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[outrunningthedark]

The fanfic shit actually was so irritating.

Buddie has almost 30000 fanfic, nobody complains. Now that bucktommy have a few all of a sudden people use Henren to weaponise their point??? Yeh NAH. Let’s NEVER do that. Leave them the fuck alone. Y’all use them to make a point than next day forget about them.

And while I’m here FUCK that RS article, Jesus Christ what a fucking shit show!!

Yup, if Buck/Tommy was never confirmed canon and Buddie stans could still confidently write metas about how Buddie is "the only endgame that makes sense" because Tim puts no effort into their het relationships, there would be no "call out posts" - the fandom would keep writing and sharing fics and celebrate whatever milestone they hit next. ("Look at all this beautiful fic we've got when our ship isn't even canon yet!" etc etc) And the ~discourse~ is even more senseless when you actually look beyond the Buck/Tommy tag as one of the main relationships. I'm not on ao3 every single day anymore, but I know for a fact QUITE a few of those supposed Buck/Tommy stories involve pining Eddie or Buddie feelings realization before making them endgame. Anything that involves Eddie as something more than the best friend is not a Buck/Tommy fic. That is a Buddie fic that uses Tommy as a "plot device" in the exact way the fandom was hoping Tim would use Tommy this season. They're not mad about Henren fics being outnumbered. They're mad that the intensity for canon Buddie has faded/is fading because the less people care about Buddie being together, the less active the fandom will be and the less incentive folks behind the scenes could have to make them the "obvious" endgame choice. (Why try to convince Ryan and Oliver to make Buddie happen if even most in the online fandom eventually learn to be okay with the story as is? And if they don't, they won't be watching anyway.)

[babyseraphim]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @emryses, thank you for always tagging me in such fun things!!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 11

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 122,112

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I write pretty much exclusively for Dead Boy Detectives, but I have a oneshot for Marvel from 2017, and an unfinished AU for Critical Role that I'll probably never go back to

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

By Lantern's Light

my healing needed more than time

foolish flame

The Case of the Selkie's Skin

Overloaded

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do when I have the time and energy. All my free time is kind of eaten up by writing the fics themselves, so unless the comment is really long or really funny, I usually don't respond. But I appreciate every comment just the same, they are what keep me motivated to write

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I honestly don't really do fics with angsty endings? Because all of my fics are super angsty in general, so I like to end things on a positive note. I guess the closest would be The Case of the Selkie's Skin because there's not really any closure there, they just move onto the next case. But even that one still has a cathartic ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

foolish flame for sure. A lot of my fic endings tend to be bittersweet in some way, but this one was a pure fluffy ending

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nah. I don't think I've been regularly posting fics long enough for that.

9. Do you write smut?

I have written smut exactly once, and while it was a really cathartic/rewarding experience, I don't know if I'll ever do it again. It's a little too far out of my comfort zone.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, crossovers aren't really my thing, though I have toyed with the idea of writing a dead boy detectives/pushing daises crossover just for the hell of it. But it probably won't ever make it onto paper.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and the idea of it kinda scares me lol

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Literally changes day to day. I think kirk/spock is the one that will truly own my heart forever, but payneland really is the perfect ship for me (hence all the fanfiction)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Case of Eros's Arrow, which is sitting with 4 chapters on AO3. I still like the concept of it, and my OCs in it, but my writing has changed so much since I started it and I just don't really feel connected to the work itself anymore. Which is a shame, because I left my readers on a total cliffhanger. Whoops.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do alright with descriptive prose (or I enjoy writing it, at the very least). I'm also good at worldbuilding and coming up with fun/creative plots.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions between scenes, and general construction of dialogue (though I've gotten better at dialogue over recent months). I can also get a little ramble-y when it comes to introspection, though I'm usually pretty good about cutting it all down by the time the final draft is done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't have many thoughts on it. I only speak english, and the only language I've ever used in my fics besides english is Latin (for magic purposes).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural, I think? It was OC fanfiction, I still have it floating around this blog somewhere

20. Favorite fics you've written?

dye it all, rosary I think is my favorite right now. I don't know what the fuck I was on when I wrote that fic, but I wrote chapter 1 in one sitting, and then chapter 2 over the course of a few months. It turned out so much better than I ever could have hoped, and I just truly love it so much.

I also love my healing needed more than time because it has all the stuff that I love in it (magic, lesbians, dogs, kids, and other fun stuff to come). I'm also just really proud that I've managed to stick with it as long as I have; it's the first piece of writing over 14k that I've ever written in my life.

I tag: @many-gay-magpies, @deadtwinksdetectiveagency, @williamvapespeare, and @the-ipre!

[katyspersonal]

How me reblogging some fanart goes:

*scrolls*

There is nothing special about this drawing, nothing to stand out, simply academical level perfect painting with perfect shading of just character in Environment, so I won't give it attention

*scrolls*

There is nothing special about this drawing either but the artist is clearly beginner and is currently ignored, I wish to support them!!! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

I could've forgiven drawing his arm turning into tentacles because although it isn't accurate it is still funny and should have been canon, but his hair is black and waving, not brown and straight! Ignored.

*scrolls*

Her ribbon is not like this at all, but this is a cute interaction! Fine, I will reblog..

*scrolls*

OH MY GOD RARE CHARACTER RARE CHARACTER NO ONE ELSE DRAWS HFHFJVGJ IT IS RARE CHARACTER OH MY GOD BLESS YOU OP I LOVE THAT YOU'VE NOTICED THIS RARE CHARACTER VFUYFJFJ BARK BARK WOOF WOOF 🐕 *chews the post a little before reblogging* *+10 HP*

*scrolls*

Ah, funny mem- VARGRAM ERASURE GOD FUCKING DAMMIT VARGRAM ERASURE DO NOT LAUGH RETREAT RETREAT!!!!!!!! Ugh how the HECK even lore-obsessed freaks like me are still doing this?! I don't care that you enjoy neglecting minor characters, Vargram's set is NOT a covenant set!!!!

*scrolls*

Shit, wtf? Why this person still haven't blocked me, after how negative they've been to my friend? Okay scroll carefully to not accidentally press like on Tumblr mobile.... scroll past carefully.... very slowly...... please mobile don't fuck this up...

*scrolls*

This fanart is really inaccurate visually but the concept is perfectly lore accurate! I am definitely supporting this! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

This person's uncolored doodle got 800+ notes in 3 hours when my best and most detailed works are lucky to cross 50 notes... I am worthless and should quit art, the girls clearly like my lore posts more than my ugly art... *sniffs* No wonder, I draw like a child, my faces are ugly, my anatomy is broken, shading makes no sense... *sobs* I bet fans of the characters I draw have cringe attacks when I touch them... God I remember how back in my Mico simping days other Mico simps side-eyed my fanart of him, and it was clear it is because it is ugly... It isn't even a matter of "they want to prettyfy him" because they do reblog and like "ugly" art of him, they just hate MY style in particular because I am a TERRIBLE artist.... *sobs*

*scrolls*

.....what. the. FUCK. Why THE fuck this perfect, amazing, fully colored drawing with hella effort in it barely has notes? Fuck this fandom, I hate this fandom! Nevermind, my art isn't bad, this fandom is just too stingy for support! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

Haha, nice o- VARGRAM ERASURE VARGRAM ERASURE RETREAT RETREAT

*scrolls*

Wow, these sketches are lovely, I want to reblog- *sees the caption like 'some sketches from insta'* Nah, I do not want to interact with artists who otherwise hang out on another site (which sucks and is very toxic to artists btw) and just use Tumblr as a dumping ground or portfolio. I only like people who actually USE this site.

*scrolls*

Good and quality art, but nothing special about this design. It feels like they drew fanart of the fanon! Could have added their own unique vision smh.

*scrolls*

Oh my god, finally! Finally, fanart of the ship I love so much! I've been- wait wait wait. Why Brador is wearing his beast hyde while Laurence is still alive? Brador's beast hyde is explicitly stated to be that of a Cleric Beast, and Laurence was the FIRST Cleric Beast! No yeah, beggars CAN be choosers. Ignored.

*scrolls*

Oh, good art- wait, why this character's eyes are blue? This character has grey eyes! But also this is such a rare character to draw... Fine. *reblogs but points out the eye color is wrong in the tags*

*scrolls*

Good art, but caption is hostile. No one wants to know that you hate this character under the art of this character. Ignored.

*scrolls*

Good art, reblogged.

*scrolls*

Very well done art, but her chest is not that big! In fact, she is boobless. Maybe next time.

*scrolls*

I want to reblog this fanart, but also despite doing so much work on detail and lighting, they forgot those cute accessories by each side of her big brooch! It could not be the laziness, it obviously was using other fanarts as the reference instead of actual ingame screenshots and model!

*scrolls*

Wh... what... oh my god... Oh my god this person drew the idea I suggested.... I've inspired someone? Oh God. Wait a second. Oh no. I need like a full week to articulate my emotions. Oh God I can't. I didn't just contribute something good in the fandom. Oh no *crying cat*

*scrolls*

I feel nothing for this ship, but this fandom is obnoxious when the female character without canon sexuality they've DECIDED is a lesbian is shipped with male character, so I will support this person. *reblogs*

*scrolls*

Good art, but they have this dumb DNI caption under their post. I don't even fit the criteria, I just don't want to carry the whole "panic about contact with ImPuRiTy" attitude with the drawing! When will people learn that some bad person liking their art is not the end of the world? 🤔

*scrolls*

Wow, good drawing!!! *the tags are the wall of passive aggression towards fans with "wrong" headcanons* Well now I am not reblogging it.

*scrolls*

Goddamit, Crow, I know you are desperate for at least any art of your blorbo, but why would you reblog something that is so careless? They clearly like what they could make out of character instead of actual character's appearance! You were just passionately approving of posts like "stop removing his wrinkles!" or "stop giving her huge honkers!" and now this? 🐓🐓🐓

*scrolls*

CROW YOU REBLOGGED VARGRAM ERASURE I THOUGHT YOU WERE BASED BUT YOU...... YOU ARE C R I N G E 🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

[coopigeoncoo]

An Itch to Scratch, Chapter 3: Through The Hourglass I Saw You

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Tags: Mermay, Mer!Kirishima, Interspecies Relationships, Sexual Content, Drowning, Somnophilia, Caretaking, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Medical Conditions, Family Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Long-Distance Relationship, Wakes & Funerals, Family Member Death, Depression, Original Characters, Adopted Children, Angst with a Happy Ending.

This story is part of a collaboration from the Teahouse Server.

---

Kirishima Eijiro is everything you never thought you'd find when you packed up your car and moved to a dilapidated fishing town.  He was handsome, funny, and kind; the sort of man who took your breath away.  

And that might actually be a bit of a problem.

---

"Good girl ," Eijiro praised, his hands like a vice on your hips as he pulled away from your mouth with a satisfied grin.  You returned his smile with one of your own; the vibrant joy that had churned in your belly unfurled throughout your body, leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded.  

"Eiji," you gasped, eyes widening in panic as your lungs seemed to seize in your chest.  "I- can't breathe!"

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

The harbor grew grimmer by the day as ships disappeared one-by-one, loaded up onto trailers and hauled away into storage for the season.  Some of the men joined their ships in wintering away from the town, setting off in the early morning light to visit far flung families until they had long worn out their welcome and the ice began to thaw.

You were helping out down at the docks that morning, accompanying Gramps who insisted on sticking to his usual routine despite the rasp in his chest that he couldn't quite kick.  You'd stuck around to keep an eye on him, making yourself useful by stacking up the lobster pots and crab cages in a nearby storage building.  The wire cages were hopelessly bent and buckled from years of heavy use, so your stacks were lopsided and wobbly; threatening to topple over if you so much as looked at them wrong.  

"Could be worse, I suppose," the Dockmaster tutted, which was pretty much as close to a glowing recommendation as he was capable of giving.  "Don't forget to grab the pots near the office too."

"The remaining boats won't need them?"

"Nah.  It's starting to get too cold for shellfish.  Most of the crabs and lobsters have already moved out into deeper waters where it's warmer.  It's not worth the trouble for the handful of 'em that haven't had the good sense to leave yet."

"I see," you mutter distractedly, thinking about the lobster you knew for certain was still lingering near the shore and how cold his skin had grown.  

"You need to leave, don't you?" You asked Kirishima the next day as you lay sprawled across his chest and belly, an old quilt wrapped around your upper bodies as you did your best to bring up his core temperature.

"I don't want to," he whispered, pulling you further up his chest so he could nuzzle into your neck as he was oft to do.  "I want to stay with you."

"Eijiro-"

"Please.  Just a few more days.  I'm not ready yet."

"And you will be in a couple of days?"

"No," Eijiro laughs dryly, his upper legs snagging the edge of the quilt and tucking it more firmly around your body.  "But I don't think I'll have much of a choice."

Clad in your wetsuit, the murky ocean water too cold for even a warm-blooded creature like yourself to brave without discomfort, you clung desperately to Eijiro in the fading evening light.  You had spent the entire day wrapped in each other's tight embrace, treasuring every kiss and caress, knowing that these fleeting touches would have to sustain you over the long months you'd spend apart.  

"Promise that you'll come back?" You croak, throat tight with misery.  "That you won't meet some lobster lady and forget all about me?"

"That's enough of that sort of talk," Eijiro scolded, grasping your chin in his icy hand and directing your gaze up to his face; his eyes steely and serious.  "Believe me, Minnow- nobody can ever compare to you."

"I'm sorry," you cry.  "I'm not doubting your sincerity, but it's just so hard and I- I don't know what I'll do without you."

"Can I tell you something?  About when we first met?"

"Okay."

"I…wasn't in a great place that day.  I had been rejected again for mating rights- the same thing that had happened year after year after year.  I thought that I would never get to know what it was like; to be held, wanted, loved," he explained, stopping to press a tender kiss to your furrowed brow.  "And then, all of a sudden, there you were."

"There I was, thinking that a lobster man was drowning and making an absolute fool of myself," you snort, that memory summoning up a feeling of retrospective mortification that sometimes kept you awake at night.  

"No.  There you were, struggling to reach me- to save me.  I might not have actually been in trouble, but no one had ever fought so hard for me before, not once in my entire life.  Can you imagine how I felt then?  When you reached out to me and begged for me to take your hand?  When you promised you wouldn't ever let me go?"

You shook your head, the unforgiving loneliness Kirishima described too strange and foreign for you to truly understand.

"It felt like all of my dreams had come true," he grinned, his pale blue lips stretched wide into a dreamy smile.

"Oh, Eijiro," you sobbed, chest bursting with emotions you struggled to put names to; feelings that existed somewhere in the space between heartbreak and bliss.

"And you know what the most amazing thing was?  You kept fighting for me.  Over and over again, even when the opponent was yourself.  I thought for sure when we thought you were allergic to me that you would realize I wasn't worth the trouble and give up."

"But I didn't."

"No, you didn't," Eijiro whispered, disbelief and awe steeped into his words as he cradled your face adoringly between his chilled hands. "And now it's my turn.  Let me prove to you that I will always return, that I'll fight to be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Forever, then?"

"Forever," Kirishima readily agreed, sealing his oath with a kiss that lasted until you were both left shivering as the final rays of sun were swallowed by the horizon.

You had arranged for Gramps to spend the day with his friends down at the restaurant where they were celebrating the official end of the commercial fishing season.  As much as all the men claimed they wouldn't so much as touch a pole until the Game Warden declared the waters open for fishing next year, you knew you would catch them out on the lake in a few weeks time; sawing through the ice and vying for the best positions to park their fishing huts.  

You had begged off from the celebrations, citing a need for a break from caregiving and catch your breath.  The men organizing the event had understood completely, assuring you that they would keep a close watch on your Grandpa and get him home safely at the end of the night.  

There was an entire list of chores that needed to be done; scrubbing the burnt lasagna sauce from the bottom of the oven, crawling under the porch to shut off the water to the outside spigot before the first frost hit, making sure Gramps had enough meds to make it through the week- mundane things.  Important things.  Things that absolutely needed to get done.  

Instead, you rolled over and pulled your covers over your head, crying yourself quietly back to sleep instead.  

"Hey, Gramps?" You called out from your place at the stove, pushing a spatula half-heartedly through the powdered eggs congealing at the bottom of the pan.  "You gonna' do anything with the box on the table?  It's been sitting there a couple of days and I want to try and get the table cleaned off by dinner."

"What are you talking about?" Your Grandpa huffed, shuffling into the kitchen.  "I didn't get a package."

"Check the table," you encouraged gently, turning away so you wouldn't have to witness the pinch of confusion twisting across his face.    

"Oh, I- I guess I'd forgotten," he stammered, mind reeling for an explanation as he pulled out the packing slip, a shower of foam shipping peanuts spilling out across the tabletop. "Must have thought it was for you or something."

"Of course," you agreed, shutting off the burner and dumping the scrambled eggs into a shallow bowl.  "Here's breakfast if you want it."

"Yeah.  Yeah, thanks," he muttered as he squinted down at the packing list.  "Do you know why I ordered five bags of penis shaped pasta?"

You laughed, a sharp, surprised sound that was wholly inappropriate on such a quiet morning.  

"Can't say that I do.  But if It were me, I'd make some for dinner so the next time someone told me to go eat a bag of dicks I could say 'Oh, yeah?  I already have.'"

"Ha!" Your Grandpa wheezed, slapping his thigh heartily before digging one of the bags of pasta out of the box.  "That's a good one!"

"Don't act so surprised," you sniff haughtily, snagging the pasta from his hand and dropping it onto the counter.  "I am your granddaughter after all."

"That you are," he chuckled, spooning some of the eggs into his mouth while you rooted through the fridge.

"Do we have any hot dogs left?" You ask as you push a margarine container full of leftovers to the side. "I want to chop some up and add them to the pasta so we can really lean into the weenie linguini angle."

The boys from the dock were over today, crammed around the ancient TV in the living room on folding chairs they hauled around from house to house to accommodate their shifting hangout locations so no one person had to bear the burden of hosting every get together.  

You'd thought they would have some sort of preferred sports match to watch, a local football or hockey team perhaps; but apparently the group of them were too competitive to coexist peacefully during play-off season.  After a particular explosive brawl a decade or so ago, where everyone limped away with fat lips and bloody knuckles, they had sworn off sports spectatorship entirely for the sake of community harmony.  These days they spent their weekends tuned into dog shows, speculating on which pooches would place and cheering on their favorite breeds.  

"I don't get how this is any different than you all watching football or something," you huff, slamming a piece of bread down on top of the tuna sandwich you were assembling.  "Those dogs are still competing and you're all still picking sides."

"That's true," your Grandpa's best friend nodded, snagging a bag of pork rinds out of the pantry to carry back out to the living room along with his newly opened beer. "But the difference is that we really don't care which dogs actually win.  They're all good dogs who deserve to come in first, so there are no hard feelings when your favorite doesn't place."

"Can't argue with that logic, I suppose."

"Nope.  And believe me, we've tried!" He chortled, peering around the door frame to sneak a glance at Gramps; perched in his recliner and trying to follow the bouncing conversation with a distant gaze.  

"He's not doing well, is he?" His friend sniffed, doing his best to keep his emotions at bay by coughing into his fist.  

"No, he's not."

"Right.  Okay."

"It's not," you croaked, placing a gentle hand between his quaking shoulders, rubbing soothing circles and allowing him to have a quiet moment of grief while snippets of an argument over the low placement of a group favorite, a sad-faced St. Bernard, floated by.

It was bitterly cold out tonight.  You thought you had bundled up appropriately for the season, but it had quickly become evident the moment you stepped outside that you had missed the mark by a layer or five.  It wasn't enough of a deterrent for you to turn around though.  You needed to get out and fill your lungs with something besides the stale air of your house that was weighed down by the fragrance of your Grandfather's slow demise; thin broths and pain medicine, powdered shampoo and muscle creams.  

Body on auto-pilot, you wandered down to the beach, dropping down onto the frigid sand indelicately.  You stared out at the ocean for a while, lost in the memories of sunny days and Kirishima's sunnier smile.

"You better come back, Eijiro," you whispered, tears stinging sharply as they rolled down your cheeks in the frigid air. "I don't think I can handle losing both of you."

Gramps had passed quietly in the night during the deepest part of winter; when snow fell more often than not and you had to muscle the front door open from the frozen frame every morning.  It had taken the funeral home a long time to get to you with the icy condition of the roads, so you did your best to keep busy and await their arrival.  

You had thought that you could be strong and wait with your Grandpa when the time came, but now that the moment was here you found that you couldn't bear to stay in his room a moment longer than absolutely necessary.  His face was slack and unfamiliar, body empty of the essence that made Gramps uniquely him; the wise-cracking busybody with more jokes than sense.  

Ignoring the smell of cooling excrement that permeated the room, you kissed your Grandfather's forehead, tucked his blankets further up on his shoulders, and left the room.  You frittered time away with any distraction you could find, sifting through piles of junk mail and TV guides, straightening the doilies your Grandma had lovingly tatted and draped across every horizontal surface, and cut out coupons from the Sunday paper.  Each of those tasks stretched out by you anxiously pulling back the front window curtain every few minutes to check for the hearse's arrival.  

After an eternity of chipping ice off the freezer walls, you finally spied the hearse slowly rolling down the street, followed by a beat up sedan you knew belonged to your Grandpa's best friend.  He shot out of the car recklessly fast for someone with a bad hip on an icy sidewalk, but you didn't have it in you to chastise him.  

Not today.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized as you ran a shaking hand down your face in frustration, watching the people from the funeral home unload a gurney and toss a folded up body bag on top. "I should have called- I didn't, I don't-"

"Hush," your Grandpa's friend interrupted gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug that you didn't know you needed.  "You've had enough on your mind this morning.  Have you eaten?"

"I- no.  I went to ask Gramps what he wanted and I just never got around to it," you say, voice muffled by the downy coat your face was pressed into.  "I think I may have left the milk out."

"It's cold enough that I'm sure the milk is fine," he said, pulling back from the hug and pushing you inside with a firm hand on your shoulder while the funeral director and his assistant rolled the gurney towards the front steps.  "How about I meet with these gentlemen while you whip us up something real quick?  I'm not picky, so whatever you make'll be fine."

You were thankful in this moment for the way the entire town danced around emotionally charged situations, welcoming the distraction of preparing a meal over having to deal with well-meaning sympathies and feelings you weren't sure how to start processing.  

"I'll get some coffee going.  Come to the kitchen whenever you're ready."

"Will do."

"This is a good turn out," you cried, dabbing at your eyes with a handful of soggy tissues.

"Your Grandfather was a well liked man."

"I don't even recognize some of the people here," you admitted, squinting to the back row that was clogged with women in spectacularly styled church hats and hand-me-down pearls.

"That's the Ladies Auxiliary for the town up the coast.  They come to all the funerals around here."

"For fun?"

"No," your Grandpa's friend snorted.  "To make sure there's always someone here.  Not everyone is as popular as your Gramps is- was."

"Oh," you sob, overcome by their thoughtfulness.  "That's so nice."

"It is.  They're lovely gals."

Still crying, you peered down into the casket where Gramp's body lay; still and unsmiling for the first time in his life.  The funeral director had seemed a bit confused when you had handed him the bag of garments and accessories you had put together for your Grandfather to be buried in, but you were pleased to see he had executed your vision flawlessly.  

His only suit, a tasteful tweed affair you had seen him squeeze into for every family wedding since you were a kid, was accented by a novelty squirting flower pinned to his lapel and a motorized bow tie that spun wildly under his chin with a cheery whirring noise.  

"You don't think the novelty vampire teeth were too much?" 

"This is exactly what he would have wanted," his friend assures you, reaching into the casket and pushing down onto the rubber chicken stuffed into the crook of your Grandfather's arm; the resulting squawk easily heard over the din of the deep sniffles of a group of men who refused to outright cry and were all collectively experiencing an out of season allergy flare up.  

"Just wait until the eulogies.  I slipped a remote controlled fart machine into his pocket."

The town restaurant was unusually packed during breakfast the next day.  The booths that usually sat empty were all full of members of the Ladies Auxiliary, each woman primly sipping coffee and pointedly ignoring each other's deeply rumpled dresses and day-old makeup.  

"Do you have something you want to say?" The lady at the counter next to you bristled, apparently taking your curious glances as a sign of disapproval.

"Not at all," you rushed to explain, sliding a handful of bills across the counter to pay for your breakfast order.  "I'd be doing something similar if my boyfriend were around."

"Alright then," the woman said, shoulders deflating as the fight seeped from her body.  "My apologies."

"It's fine," you say, waving off her contrition as you contemplate a triangle of toast left untouched on your plate.  "Besides, I'm sure my Gramps would be thrilled that his funeral was directly responsible for his friends having such a memorable evening."

"Goodness!" The woman gasped.  "That was your Grandfather's funeral?  I feel even worse now!"

"It's fine!  Really!  I shouldn't have been staring.  I've just gotten used to the same grungy old men that seeing a group of lovely and well-dressed women caught me off guard."

"They are a bit rough around the edges," the woman agreed with a slight grimace, dabbing at the faded remains of her lipstick with the edge of a napkin.  

"No judgment here, sister.  Any port in a storm, ammirite?" 

She snorts inelegantly, the corner of her mouth quirked in delight as she unclasps the top of her practical clutch and pulls out a slightly wrinkled pamphlet for the Ladies Auxiliary that she slides across the counter towards you.

"Here's the brochure for our branch of the Auxiliary.  You should consider joining.  I think it'll do you good to spend some time away from these old curmudgeons and spend some time in a more…feminine atmosphere."

To perfectly punctuate her sales pitch, one of the men at the back of the diner let loose an astoundingly loud belch that immediately launched all the men into an explosive round of appreciative applause.

"One question: do I get to wear a fancy hat like you do?" You ask, staring at the artfully arranged tower of tulle and feathers piled atop her head.

"Of course.  What's even the point, otherwise?"

"Count me in."

The weeks ticked by slowly as you grew accustomed to living by yourself and figuring out what constituted your new normal.  The activities that had defined your existence at the beginning of your stay, spending time with Eijiro and caring for Gramps, were both suddenly and dramatically stricken from your schedule and you struggled to fill your days because of it.  

Perhaps sensing your ennui, the town council; which was composed entirely of the two brothers who also ran the post office, elected to put you in charge of using the snowblower to clear off the sidewalks on mainstreet and the walkways of anyone who called and asked you for assistance.  It kept you busy most mornings, and you were glad for the distraction.  

The rest of your time was spent getting Gramp's affairs put in order; contacting banks and sending copies of his death certificate to Governmental agencies you'd never heard of before.  When you had a moment to spare you would pick a room in the house and start organizing, carefully packing away bits of family history and discarding numerous shoe boxes stuffed full of faded sales receipts and old batteries.

Gramps friends and neighbors, sadly well-versed in estate cleaning, would often swing by to assist you in lifting heavier objects and driving truck beds full of garbage out to the dump.  You were currently glued to your laptop, scanning in old family photos for posterity and considering how much of a bother it would be to put a digital album together when a hand clapped down firmly onto your shoulder, wrenching a startled yelp out from the depths of your soul.

"Sorry!" Your Grandpa's friend winced, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step away from your person.  "Didn't realize I was sneaking up on ya'."

"It's okay," you gasp, heart still hammering in your chest.  "I was pretty distracted."

A picture from your Grandparents' honeymoon had just popped up on the screen.  With little money and even less time to spare, they had spent a weekend driving up and down the coast, stopping and eating at every pancake restaurant they could find.  They'd rated their meals at every location, their food selections identical for the sake of consistency, in a tiny notebook you'd found stashed away in Gramp's desk.  

"Good gracious- look at how young he was."

"I know."

"Such a goofy looking fella'," he noted, pulling out the chair next to you.  "Good thing you take after your Grandma."

"The small mercies of the universe," you agree, loading up a new picture into the scanner.  

He flips through the box of loose photos, pausing every now and then to closely examine a picture of him or the boys around town.

"You don't have to stay, you know," he murmured gruffly as he lifted a delicate sepia tinted photo up by the edges. "You've been helping out a lot this year and while we're grateful for all you've done, we'll get along just fine without you.  We always have."

It was kind of him, to give you an out; to not mention the handfuls of people who had left town this year, either in a body bag or shoved into the dedicated minivan from the local retirement home.  The townsfolk had gotten by in the past because they were numerous and young.  Now they were few and old and struggling to make it through each year.  You leaving would likely be the domino that would send the town toppling into ruin with no one around to push a mower without getting winded or shuffle up onto a roof to repair a leak without vertigo setting in.  

"This life…isn't what I ever imagined for myself," you admit, mind churning with thoughts of Eijiro as you swap out photos in the scanner once more. "But that doesn't mean I'm unhappy here.  I'm just happy in a way I didn't expect."

"You like us old coots that much, eh?" He chuckled, tossing the photo back into the box and turning his attention to a stack of your Grandfather's ledgers.  

"Please," you scoffed.  "I'm only staying because I just sent a check up to the Ladies Auxiliary and I know for a fact that there's no way they'll refund me that membership fee.  Their treasurer is feisty."

As soon as the barometer rose above freezing the town sprung into action, ripping tarps off of boats, changing out oil, and checking coolant levels.  It was still far too cold for leaves and blossoms to emerge, but the return of the ships to harbor did more to lift your spirits than a field of flowers ever could.  Those boats were a true and indelible sign that spring was on its way.  

"What are you smiling about?" One of the dockworkers called down to you from where he was grinding down a rusty patch on the cabin wall with a belt sander.  "If you have time to be happy you must not have enough to do!"

"No, no!  I'm very busy here," you assured him, smearing a large glob of wax across the hull.  "I'm just excited that it's almost lobster season again."

"Again with all the lobster talk?  All winter it's been lobster this and lobster that!"

"Well, can you blame me?  I think I've spent enough of my life without lobster at this point."

"Fair enough!" The worker laughed, a dry bray that sounded enough like a donkey that it always made you smile.  "What are you looking forward to the most?  Steamed lobster? Lobster rolls?"

"I'm looking forward to getting me some of that sweet, sweet lobster tail," you giggled to yourself, kicking on the electric buffer to drown out the sounds of chit-chat and swearing, drifting off in a sea of titillating memories you hoped you'd be able to recreate soon.  

You were refreshing the paint on a red and yellow striped buoy, hands and arms splotched with an entire rainbow of colors from your work, when the Dockmaster approached the section of overturned crates you had turned into your maritime arts and crafts station.

"You're not completely incompetent."

"Thank you, Sir," you said, setting down your brush to rest across the top of a small bucket of paint.  

"Clean up here and come to my office.  I've got something for you."

That something turned out to be a set of keys that you had barely managed to catch by the neon orange key float as the Dockmaster chucked them at your head. 

"Those'r the keys to your new boat.  Congratulations.  Don't fuck up," he grunted, snuffing his cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray.  "Now get out of my office."

You stumbled out of the smoky room, keys clutched in your hands as you slumped down into a sagging lawn chair the Dockmaster kept outside for his smoke breaks on warmer days when the air in his office became too stifling.

"You okay?" One of the passing fishermen asked, hefting a large coil of rope further up his shoulder.  "Dockmaster wasn't too mean to ya', was he?"

"No- he, uh.  He gave me a boat?" 

"Ha!  Did he really?" The fisherman laughed.  "Guess you're really one of us now!"

"But I don't even know how to drive a boat!" You screeched, panic quickly replacing the buzzing numbness that had filled you only moments before.  

"It's not that hard.  Me and the boys will go with you when you take your boat for a spin and show you the ropes."

"That'll be great.  Thanks."

It was, in fact, not great.  

While the fishermen were correct that driving a boat was technically easy, every other aspect of handling a boat fell somewhere along the spectrum between frustrating and absolute madness.  Your docking skills were so abysmal that the fishermen had ended up lashing tires around the entire hull, effectively turning your ship into the maritime version of a bumper car.  

But the absolute worst part of the entire experience turned out to be the name of your vessel.  

"I'm changing the name," you declared boldly once you and your group of tagalong fishermen had matched the numbers on your keychain to the blocky boat ID numbers printed on the forward half of the ship.  

"Oh, come on!" One of the men laughed, doubled over and wheezing for breath at your expense.  "You're the perfect choice to captain 'The Nauti Girl!'" 

Just saying the name outloud was enough to send the men into a cackling uproar once again.  One man with a bushy Santa beard was having a hard enough time regaining his composure that he gave up entirely and laid down on the dock, rolling around on the warped planks as he fought to catch his breath.  

"Nope.  I refuse.  This boat is going to have a nice and respectable name.  Like 'Sea Breeze' or 'Wave Breaker'," you huffed.  "Something I won't be embarrassed to call out over the radio."

"Boooring!" The loudest fisherman protested.  "Besides, it's bad luck to change the name of a ship."

"Of course it is," you mutter disgruntledly.

"Also," the man continued. "If you changed the name then you'd have to get rid of this lovely lady!" He said while gesturing to the cute, pinup style mermaid in a sailor's hat perched next to your boat's sprawling cursive name.  

You cross your arms across your chest, thoughtfully staring at the teal haired mermaid holding an anchor at just the right angle to obscure her nipples and keep things family-friendly.  

"Okay, fine.  But if I can't name the boat I get to name the mermaid," you grumbled, throwing your leg high to make it over the coaming and step down onto the deck; turning back to face the men in the dock when you realized they hadn't followed you onto the boat.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" The man with the Santa beard asked, his cheeks still burning red from his fit of hysterics moments ago.

"Permission granted," you grinned in return.  "I need you gentlemen to show me just what this 'Nauti Girl' is capable of!"

As the greenest fisher at the dock, the men had been gradually easing you into performing more difficult tasks while you grew accustomed to piloting your boat.  So far you had mostly been sent out to return forgotten items or lunches to boats that had disembarked earlier in the day, but just a few days ago the Dockmaster had started sending you out to check on the farthest flung lobster cages to see if the crustaceans were starting to make it back to the coastline.  

The first few had come up empty, so you made a note of their locations and double checked that they were firmly attached to their buoys before chucking them back into the water.  Pulling up on the next end line, you were surprised to feel some resistance.  The other cages had come up relatively easily, so maybe this pot actually had something trapped inside?

Bracing your legs, you tightened your grip onto the rope and gave a mighty tug, drawing the rope up and over the edge of your boat.  Ever so slowly, you drew the sodden rope up from the water, peering over the edge to see what could possibly be weighing down the line so much.  Your questions were answered when, with one final pull and a forceful grunt, the grinning face of Eijiro dramatically rose out of the water.  

"Would you look at that," you laughed, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you reached down towards your boyfriend. "The first lobster of the season."

"And from the way you tell it, I'm quite the catch," Kirishima winked playfully as he grasped the side of your boat and pulled himself up to be face-to-face with you.  

"I missed you, Eijiro.  So, so much," you cried, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as tightly as you could, which you knew was a fair bit snugger than you could manage the last time you saw him thanks to countless hours of unpaid manual labor.  

"I missed you too, Minnow," Eijiro said, his voice shaky as he nuzzled into your shoulder and deeply inhaled the scent of your skin.  You had envisioned your reunion a thousand times over the last few months, but all of those scenarios paled in the face of the actual experience of being cradled in Eijiro's arms once more.  Even the uncomfortable feeling of the side of the boat digging into your belly couldn't take away from the thrum of utter contentment unfurling in your soul.  

"Nauti Girl, come in Nauti Girl.  Nauti Girl, do you read me? Over." The radio on your boat screamed as it crackled to life.  

"Really?" You groan. "They had to call right now?"

"Wait- why is that man calling you 'Naughty Girl'?" Kirishima asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Ugh!" You huff, pressing a quick to Eijiro's lips as you unwillingly work to free yourself from the tangle of his limbs.  "He isn't calling me that, it's the name of my boat."

"You named your boat Naughty Girl?"

"I would never!  It already came with a name-"

"Nauti Girl?  Pick up!  Over!"

"I'm coming!  Hold your horses!" You yell ineffectually at the radio, knowing that they won't hear you until you hold down the button to answer.  "Just- hold on one second, okay?"

You practically fly across the deck, slamming your hand down on the call button.  "Nauti Girl, here.  Go ahead.  Over."

"There was a small accident and we're short a set of hands to get the last boat launched.  Requesting you return to harbor to assist.  Over."

Hissing in frustration, you send a pleading look to where Eijiro is draped across the coaming, watching you with an utterly dejected look settling across his face.

"You need to go, don't you?" He murmured sadly.  

"I do.  They can't do it without me."

"I understand," Eijiro sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration and sending tiny droplets of water spraying across the deck.  "Sometimes you have to help others at the expense of yourself."

"Yeah," you sighed, pressing the button down once more.  "Roger that.  I'll finish up here and head back ASAP.  Over and out."

You hook the receiver back into place and rush again to Eijiro, cradling his jaw in your hands as you press tender kisses across his face.  He closed his eyes and sighed happily, basking in the glow of your loving attention.  

"I need to head back in.  But let's meet tonight at the cave up shore.  I'll bring some blankets and snacks and we can spend all night together, okay?"

"Okay," he nods with a soft smile, eyes sparking as his hand drifts down to pat at the top of a tightly woven seagrass basket tied around his hips.  "And I'll show you the surprise I brought."

"You got me something?" You gasp in delight, peering further over the edge of the boat to examine the closed lid basket more closely.  

"Technically, I got us something," he laughed nervously, glancing down at the basket with a fond smile.  "I hope you'll love it as much as I do."

The accident back at dock was thankfully minor; someone had gotten their hand smashed between two crates and while they hadn't broken any bones, Doc had them on lockdown in his living room to make sure they were actually keeping their hand iced and elevated.  Doc's concern was well placed because it wasn't unusual for the townsfolk to nod along to his instructions and then conduct themselves as though they were the poster children for medical noncompliance.  

With everyone pitching in you were able to get the last boat launched with no real issues and then spent the remainder of the afternoon anxiously watching the sun dip lower on the horizon as you replaced missing weights on casting nets.  Once it became too difficult to see what your hands were doing in the fading light, the men called it for the day and you had to endure the Herculean task of trying to casually walk home.  You wanted to take off at a sprint to rendezvous with Eijiro as quickly as you could, but knew that running through town would draw unwanted scrutiny from the townsfolk.  Going out onto the ocean alone at night was foolhardy and dangerous, and if you were caught heading out you knew that you would be hauled back in and given a stern talking to about your reckless behavior.  

So you played it cool, stopping to chat to folks heading down to the diner, dropping into the corner store to grab some granola bars and a couple bags of chips, and slowly made your way home the same as you would every night.  But you were off and running as soon as the porch door slammed shut behind you, tearing across the house and throwing things into a large duffle bag as quickly as you could manage before shoving slices of deli meat and handfuls of shredded cheese into your mouth in lieu of an actual meal as you waited for the last bit of daylight to evaporate into inky darkness.  

Once the bright pinpricks of stars were the only lights remaining in the sky you made your escape, sliding outside through the kitchen door that faced the ocean and creeping quietly down to the beach, stopping only to grab your inflatable raft you kept under the back deck.  Slipping on a life vest, you tossed your bag into your raft and waded out into the shallows, jumping aboard and pushing yourself away from the shore with alternating pushes of your paddle against the sandy ocean floor.  

"Just a little longer, Eiji," you whispered quietly into the night.  "I'm on my way."

Kirishima was already at the cave when you arrived, paddling nervously around in circles while singing, the strange clicks layering into a haunting sort of lullaby; like crickets chirping late in the night.  His song cut off as he caught sight of you, darting to you and grabbing a hold of your raft's tow rope and pulling you to the rocky cave shore as he'd done so many times before.

"Decided to leave the Naughty Girl at home, huh?" He teased, patting a hand onto the side of your trusty raft as you hopped out and pulled it further onto the shore to keep the shifting tide from grabbing it while you weren't paying attention.

"What are you talking about?  I'm right here!" You winked back playfully as you unzipped your duffle bag and worked at spreading the large quilt down over the sand.  

"Of course," he laughed, watching with fond eyes as you settled into the middle of the blanket. "My mistake."

"I can probably be persuaded to forgive you," you purred, patting the blanket as you beckoned for Kirishima to come and join you on shore.  His eyes followed the curves of your legs up as he swallowed thickly, hands darting to the basket at his hip.

"Okay, so, before we go any further I have something I need to show you," he confesses, untying the complicated knots that kept the basket lashed around his hips.  "You have to come here.  It doesn't- the basket has to stay in the water for now."

"Alright," you agreed readily, concerned for the abrupt mood shift Eijiro was displaying.  Cautiously, you made your way down to the water and stepped into the shallows, joining your boyfriend in the chest-deep water.

"Before I open this, I want to remind you about how much I love you.  I understand if this is too much and I'm sorry I made such a big decision without you, but I had to do something," Eijiro said, his words rushed and squished together with worry as he carefully pried open the lid of the basket and pushed it into your awaiting arms.

You peer down into the basket, stuffed full of slimy ribbons of kelp and dotted with tiny slivers of fish bones.  Confused, you were about to ask Kirishima about what exactly you were supposed to be looking at when a passing wave shifted a tangle of the kelp and revealed a downy tuft of bright red hair.  Breathlessly, you reached into the basket and brushed aside another clump of seaweed, uncovering the tiny curled up half-lobster baby within.  

"Eijiro," you whisper, trying to keep your voice level so you wouldn't disturb the sleeping child. "Did you steal a baby?"

"What? No!" Kirishima rushes to assure you, his smooth hands sliding to cover yours as you cradle the basket.  "It was a really successful hatching season.  We hadn't had so many hatchlings survive in, well, ever.  And we were struggling to keep them all fed and safe, but it was just too overwhelming."

"This little one was really struggling.  They wouldn't eat on their own and couldn't keep up with their siblings," Eijiro murmured sadly, letting loose a couple of comforting clicks as he ran a gentle finger through their fluttering hair.  "Their mother couldn't give them the attention they needed without her other children suffering, so she culled them from her nest."

"That's awful," you whispered, hand dipping into the basket beside Eijiro's to gently stroke the little one's pale and pudgy cheek.

"It is," he agreed.  "But necessary.  She couldn't risk the health of her other children for just one."

It was quiet for a while as you both peered down at the sleeping child as they shifted, curling their tail  around their head and rolling up into a ball about the size of an orange.  

"They're so small."

"The runt of their pod.  Just like me," Eijiro sniffed, a distant and miserable look in his eyes.  "It could have been me.  If my hatching year had been more successful, it would have been me pushed out and left to die."

"Oh, Eijiro," you sob; angry at the cruelty and unfairness of nature that had hurt the man you loved so deeply.  

"I just couldn't leave them.  Not if I could help."

"Of course you couldn't.  You did the right thing."

"You aren't upset?" Kirishima asked, thin threads of hope threading through the misery woven into his voice. 

"Oh, I am.  But not at you.  And not at them," you said as you ran a finger down the slick, unhardened chitin of their tiny tail.  

"Oh, Spirits be praised," he sighed, shoulders deeply sagging as relief flooded his body.  "I was hoping it would be okay since it was just one.  You told me one baby was normal for humans."

"You could have brought me a hundred babies and it still would have been fine," you assured him, smiling gently when the child sneezed, letting loose a burst of tiny bubbles from their mouth.

"I don't think we could handle a hundred babies," Eijiro chuckled, pulling you into his embrace, the basket sheltered between your entwined bodies. 

"Probably not," you agree, dropping your head down to rest on Eijiro's chest as you gazed down at your new baby in awe.  "But I think we can handle one."

"Yeah," Eijiro sighed happily, tightening his grip around you and the baby; his entire world, his family, cradled safely in his arms. "We can handle one." 

Your life was one of feast and famine.  The time spent with Eijiro and your child filled your heart and soul with so much joy that you often wondered how your body was able to contain it all without bursting at the seams.  Conversely, the long winter months served as a stark lesson in misery and longing as you anxiously awaited the arrival of spring and the migration of your small family back into your life.

To ease the anxious worries of your heart, Eijiro agreed to wear a tracking tag woven into a band on his wrist.  Each night you were bathed in the glow of your laptop screen, lulled to sleep by Eijiro drawing intricate patterns across the screen with his movements; wordless proclamations of love that only you could see.  

Your child, who you had discerned to be a girl once her swimmerets had developed enough to tell one way or the other, eventually appeared next to her father on the map; her bright dot carving out wobbly paths that mirrored Eijiro's smooth trails through the water. 

The townsfolk had noticed the intense depression you fell into during winter and did their best to keep you in good spirits.  The fishermen who taught you how to handle the Nauti Girl met you for dinner three nights a week, The Dockmaster taught you the actual rules to Backgammon and confirmed your long held suspicions that your Grandfather was a dirty rotten cheater, and the ladies at the Auxiliary pooled their money together to buy you one of those sun therapy lamps.  You weren't sure of the lamp's actual efficacy, but looking at it made you feel cared for and loved, so you kept it propped up in the corner of your living room anyway.

The longer you stayed in the dilapidated town you had grown to call home the more heartbreak you were subjected to.  Inevitably, the people you loved and lived with, relaxed and toiled beside, grew measurably older with each passing year until they very suddenly stopped- stopped aging, stopped breathing, stopped living.

The men assured you time and time again over coffee, returning from vacations, on their deathbeds; that they had no regrets.  That their lives were difficult, but wonderful.  The hands blistered and their joints were ground to dust from decades of thankless labor; but their eyes witnessed the boundless beauty that nature had to offer and they had the extreme privilege of knowing true acceptance and affection from their chosen family; their neighbors, brothers, and friends.  

That's what they wished for you to find as well; a devastatingly beautiful life full of misery and ecstasy and everything in-between.  And as you watched two heads of bright red hair breach the surface of the water, speeding towards your boat and a long-awaited reunion, you were fairly sure you already had.

[wizling]

Hi, sorry I was going through your art tags and I've just gotta ask - what's the momswap au? it seems really neat!

hi, thank you for reading my blog!

I'm going back about a decade here but i will do my best to answer: it was a very loosely defined project to swap the stable parent of the awakening future kids to imagine how their lives would've been different that because I am who I am mostly exists as cynigowain shipping art. (cynigowain is VERY real in momswap and it's important)

for example, Nah in momswap au is Miriel's daughter. while Laurent is interested in extending and understanding Miriel's work by using scientific principles, Nah will only do the experiments her mother recorded exactly as they were written in her book, and really struggles when she finds out that Miriel was kind of making things up as she went along. Nah's coping method was to deify a loose collection of notes and believe it revealed a truth about the universe because Nah is kind of a teacher's pet at heart and she needed to believe that Miriel's notebook had some kind of authority because she didn't have Miriel around to teach her anything directly

Inigo in momswap is Cordelia's son, and he carries a lot of resentment towards his mother because she made everything look effortless while he had to try and still couldn't do what she did. while Olivia shared his shyness and insecurity and could commiserate and try to help him with it, Cordelia can't understand it at all, and is equally frustrated that her future son is a lazy useless flirt with no ambition.

Momswap Cynthia is Panne's daughter and she's reached the mistaken conclusion that because she's made it this far she won't ever die, because she's special. Panne is struggling to find a starting point for the reality check.

Owain as Nowi's son has all his chuuni suspicions confirmed and he's insufferable for it. he's disappointed that even after time travelling he can't find out much more about their great and noble dragon lineage and that his mother mostly wants to have fun instead of brood about their (obviously incredibly important) destiny

I had a full list of who went where at some point but all I can remember is that Kjelle was Chrom's daughter (which kind of worked, except Lucina is a very patient person who just doesn't like other women and Kjelle has no patience and hates all men), Laurent was Tharja's son/lab tech, Sumia had Noire i think? Noire had a lovely childhood at least

if i find the list it would be a fun project to draw them all out.....

[disasterbuck]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @jesuiscenseedormir 😘

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

256 😬 but most of those are collabs with my beloved Veronae 💜 works written on my own I think total 23?

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

oh damn how do I find that ah. okay. um. 560,589

3. What fandoms do you write for?

nowadays it's pretty much just 9-1-1

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

you are really teaching me how to use the stats page on ao3 lol

The Parent to Contact - Buck gets a call from Christopher's school and learns that he's listed on the boy's forms as 'the parent to contact on Tuesdays'.

that drunk buck chat - Buck gets drunk and texts Eddie something he wasn't meant to read. Text fic!

that first kiss chat - Eddie texts Buck with some news, and it goes on from there. All texting!

Buddie, You're Hot - Buck is helping Eddie get ready for a date when he ends up outing himself as bi – something he thought Eddie already knew. Wasn't it obvious?

that drunk eddie chat - Wherein Eddie is a drunk mess and Buck needs to protec

5. Do you respond to comments?

on my own/solo fics, yes absolutely every time. but comments on the buddie text fics I usually leave for Veronae to reply to, unless it's specifically addressed to me or I just feel like replying

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

knee deep in sinking sand Buck has a nightmare about losing Eddie.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of what I write has a happy ending 😅 um I'm gonna go with You Should've Just Kissed Me Set after the Poker Date Night, Buck overhears Eddie talking about being set up on a date and wonders aloud why Eddie doesn't just explain that he's already in a relationship - with Buck.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

thankfully not much, but there was one person who left hate on the buddie text fics :(( I do my best to ignore it though 😌

9. Do you write smut?

nah I'm not really comfortable with it. sometimes a fic will get a bit steamy but I usually try to fade to black when I can.

10. Craziest crossover?

does lone star count? cause we've done text fics with TK and Carlos:

that matchmaker crossover chat Buck talks to TK. Carlos talks to Eddie. They're in love, but they won't tell each other. TK enlists Carlos' help to try and change that. Text fic!! that anniversary day chat When Eddie cancels plans with Buck to go on a date, they end up in a fight without fully understanding how it happened. Eddie reaches out to Christopher, while Buck reaches out to his good ol' buddy TK for support ... but they can only go so long before facing each other. that bothered and bewildered chat After being kissed by Tommy, Buck reaches out to an old acquaintance for help sorting out his feelings.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! a while back, in a different fandom and under a different name.

13. Have you co-written a fic before?

as you've probably figured out, yes I have. I collab with my bestie Veronae for all out buddie text fics, and we've also written an actual prose fic together as well:

A Jealous Kiss “You’re going out with your mechanic?” Buck asked. Then his face fell into deliberate blankness. “You mean, you’re dating your mechanic?”Eddie was going on a date with someone else. And Buck would be left behind.Again.

14. All time favorite ship?

BUDDIE

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will

ohhhh good question. hm probably my buddie wip where Chimney dares Buck not to use Eddie's name for a week and so Buck starts using pet names for him. it's cute and I like the idea but I don't think I'm ever gonna have enough motivation to write the whole thing.

16. What are your writing strengths?

hm. I think I'm pretty good at writing fluff? and having a good balance of prose and dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

too many ideas, not enough motivation. I've got easily like 50 wips or something uggghhhhhh

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language

ummm sure? why not? I once wrote a fic for a previous fandom where one character spoke french the whole way through, and I got a french friend to check it over for me so it could be accurate, plus I then added translations at the end for people.

19. First fandom you wrote for

stargate

20. Favorite fic you've written

Friends Don't ✨💕

Eddie and Buck have always been closer than most best friends and it's never bothered them, but lately they've been starting to wonder if there might be more than just friendship between them.

After all, it's becoming clear that there are a lot of things they do that 'just friends' don't.

-

Pressing his face into his pillow, Buck giggled before mumbling, "Whoops."

"Whoops?" Eddie repeated. "We've been on the phone for almost four hours and all you have to say is 'whoops'?"

"It's been a great four hours," Buck said, the words tumbling out before he had time to consider whether he should be admitting them or not.

"Yeah," Eddie confirmed softly, making Buck's heart squeeze affectionately in his chest. "It has."

Tagging: @idealuk @estheticpotaeto @bklynbiguy ✨

[bridgetswonderfulland]

NEW LOGO SJJSBDNSNEBEB (+ FUTURE UPDATE!!!)

I just made a new logo to replace a old one from last year, used to be a fan of RCH and Superbendys' GF but now I've lost them because of myself. It's a horrible Spring to me and I feel like I could do some updates for the blog

(Before you ask: What "update" you're doing?)

Good question!! I'm doing some focus on stories I haven't share any of them yet and instead of posting some cringyass self-inserts that nobody wants to see this, no worries that I'm still doing it!! I don't wanna annoy everyone with those hideous self-ships(I'm always worried about the Cringe Culture thing) and maybe focusing on OC stories are okay. Y'know what's the secret update? I'm gonna do some coping mechanism blog!!

("Hold up! Are you gonna make a coping vore blog?? That's so coo-")

Wait what?? Nah, but I'm not against those "extreme cuddling" blogs I have discovered. If you don't know what that is then it's a word for a SFW vore community, id-even-k why it's called "Extreme Cuddling" but I prefer not to ask those people because they'll find I'm against those fetishes. I'm not gonna make a coping mechanism blog which it involves vore but I might able to make one for many stuff instead of those like

Self-inserts, I do think people are getting seriously uncomfortable with my self-shipping with freaky creepyahh unhinged deranged men(Like Night Master, Edward Hyde, and The Moaner) so I might gonna move them in the future blog, so it might be better if you stay away if you're against it

Vent/gore/body horror art, the new future blog won't be fetishize vent/gore/body horror art I've made but they just need triggering warnings for everyone's safety. Don't enter if you're scared as hell, I might be venting/yapping about something scary or sad-

New coping sona, I believe I have seen people having "coping sona" in their coping mechanism blogs and I might be thinking to myself: "Maybe I should be doing it" and maybe if she will appeared then y'all should love her. She may not be related to my persona Bridgette, but they're really good friends. No you cannot ship them.

Yapping and silliness!!! I should might be yapping nonsense that seems annoying but that's what silliness does to the person like me! If you think I'm being so goddamn annoying in the future coping blog then get the fuck outta my blog. Sorry for saying this but I don't feel safe people who are against me doing this but I ain't no doing anything wrong.

Coping blog won't be a vore blog. I know!!! Terrible!!! But at least it would be a SFW blog, with silliness joyfulness freakiness and more! I know I'm against those fetishes but I don't wanna get myself involved because it's extremely uncomfortable with me to do this. You might have end up seeing me yapping my ass off or some weird self-inserts but at least they're not hurting anybody. Proshipers isn't allow on my blog too.

("Is this gonna be a yandere blog?") Idk but not, I have heard what Yancore is but I don't really think of this through. All you can see soon will be tons of weird self-inserts and me yapping some bs but you might not gonna see yandere stuff(I know!!! Rude!!!) But for Bridget's Coping Blog, it will be tagged as #BridgetsComfySpace

That's all for the future updates!! You might see some strange shit but they're for the better! It's not a vore blog but you will see some interesting things like what's happening in my Wonderful Land! Thank you for reading this!!

[stellevatum]

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better.

Roleplayer name: Kar/Karmun/Karthonic

Roleplayer pronouns: They/Them

Muse name(s): Kar Alor'ade/Nari'ad

Preferred communication: DMs at first, Discord if we're vibing.

Experience: I've been roleplaying since 2001-2002. I was there when the deep magic was written, etc. AIM, YIM, MSN, Gaia, BB Boards, Skype, you name. I've been writing Kar in general/SW verse since 2003, and her BPRD AU since maybe 2005-2006?

Preferred roleplay type: I try to match, novella works but sometimes you just got the brainpower for shitposty one-lines/casual chat RP, which seems to be what scratches my itch more these days. Theme-wise, I'm into the dark humor and cracky stuff more than serious, but that doesn't mean I won't write it.

Pet peeves & dealbreakers:

Breaking Reblog Karma-- SUCH a pet peeve.

Utilizing something that's more of the character's thoughts or internal exposition like it's something the character said.

Constant first meeting threads (that usually go nowhere). I can only handle the "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" or "WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!" prompts for so long. Please let us hash out rapports and figure it out as we go along, Please let our character already have a framework of a story and then fill it in as we go. It's much more freeing I prommy.

Not adding input to a plot, or not communicating at all when planning. If you're not interested in a plot/ship/etc, just say so, don't just give me vague or one word replies. Enthusiastic consent is not just for the bedroom, and "Yes And" ing is not just for improv theater.

I'm sure there's more I'm forgetting but whatevs.

Best time to write: Usually during slow hours at work, and weekends, mostly nights my time (NY Timezone).

Are you like your muse?: Overall? Nope. We have the same name (though they had the name first before me lmao), and some of the same interests but nah she's a self indulgent whatever I want character.

Tagged by: Stole from my other blog. Tagging: Anyone interested.

[vid-writes]

Owning Her Ch. 2

As always this story is for adults only!

Not only that but it contains lots of graphic BDSM content that most won't enjoy so if you don't want to encounter this story then please block the tag #TW Owning Her

"I will be having guests over tonight," Greyson had told Vivian when he let her out for breakfast this morning before work. Her clothes were in his hands, and she noted the lack of underwear or a bra. The skirt was knee-length and almost tight enough to reveal the outline of her chastity belt. Her plain pink silk shirt also barely hid her stiff nipples.

"So, are you going to help me or not?" snapped the customer into Vivian's headset. She mimed jerking off, thankful for the walls of her office before she replied.

"You never told me whether you had restarted the device." The groan the man let out made her want to bang her head on her desk.

"Of course I did, lady, and that didn't do shit," he grumbled.

"Well, there's no need to curse with me. If the device remains frozen and restarting it didn't work then your options are to take it to a store or mail it to a repair center." Vivian typed a summary of the conversation into the service document.

"I'm not going to get charged some outrageous fee just because my baby poured milk all over her tablet, am I?" The guy sounded incredibly distressed. Vivian felt for him.

"As long as the repairs don't outweigh the total warranty service credit, then you won't even be charged for shipping," she answered.

His sigh of relief made her smile.

"Then I'll take it to a local shop and let them handle it. Thank you," the man said and hung up before she could reply.

She finished filing the report and emailed it to her boss before sitting back in her chair. There were only two hours left in Vivian's shift. Two hours before Greyson finished punishing her for last night. One hundred and twenty minutes before, Vivian was in a room of eight to ten people and of free use.

She wasn't opposed to other people using her body, but it still embarrassed her and humiliated her. Greyson knew it would, so that was why this was happening. The thought made her already aching nipples even harder.

It had been almost eight months since the last time Greyson had punished Vivian with being used by his friends. They had been at dinner in an adults-only restaurant, and she had refused to stop eating dessert and suck him off underneath the table. As a result, he made her watch the waitress happily do it instead. Then, the next day, on her day off, she had been awoken by Greyson dragging her into the living room full of guests.

She had spent the entire day serving them drinks and servicing their cocks. When they had all left, Greyson took her back to the restaurant and made her suck him off while he ate dinner. She had leftovers once they got home.

Before Vivian realized it, five o'clock had rolled around and she was in the elevator with her coworkers as they headed for their cars. Once she was behind the wheel of her car, she texted Greyson to let him know she was on the way home.

Clothes on the floor as soon as you're inside the door.

Once the door to Greyson's apartment closed behind her, Vivian stripped off her clothes and moved to the living room. This time, a different set of his male friends sat around the living room. Heat filled her cheeks at the thought of new people using her this time.

"Right on time, like the good girl you're supposed to be," Greyson greeted her. She tried to ignore all the men as she stalked for her Master. Like last time, she knelt between his feet where he sat in his recliner and waited.

"Should I unlock her chastity belt now, fellas?" He asked as Vivian stared at the floor. More heat filled her cheeks as they all muttered for a second.

"Nah, letting her cunt have any joy now wouldn't make the punishment stick," came a cold and hollow voice from Vivian's right. She peeked over to see a tall, thinly muscular man with pale blonde hair and curt blue eyes. He glared at her, so she looked back at the floor.

"Go get me a beer and anything else any of them want," Greyson commanded.

"Yes, Sir," Vivian confidently said as she stood up.

Three of the eight men present asked for beers, two asked for a bottle of vodka and shot glasses, one asked for her to sit on his lap once she served the rest, one asked for nothing, and the cold blonde just turned to Greyson.

Vivian did her best to remember who asked for what. She knew mix-ups would result in degradation, spankings, or humiliation. Unfortunately for her, she had a pretty shitty memory, and as luck would have it, she mixed up who asked for the beers.

Two of the guys called her a dumb slut, and one of them snatched her by the face. He forced her jaw open and poured some of the beer into her mouth. Without waiting for a command, Vivian swallowed the beer and stayed in his grasp.

"Get it right," he snarled as his green eyes flared. He shoved the beer back at her. She got a fresh one and gave it to the proper guy before sitting on the lap of the guy who had requested it.

Right away, his calloused hands palmed her breasts. Relief flooded through Vivian as pleasure finally replaced the ache in her nipples. She ground her ass against his hardening cock as a silent thank you.

"Already so desperate for cock are you?" the man asked her. She looked over her shoulder into his brown eyes and nodded. She wasn't even faking it like she had to sometimes, so the humiliation of this lasted less time. Vivian's cunt ached, and even though it wouldn't get any relief for a while, she knew the desire could be tampered down for a bit with a blow job.

"Then get on your knees and get a taste. And don't you dare spit it out, or I'll rub your nose in it like a dog," commanded the brown-eyed man.

Vivian slid off of his lap and between his knees quickly. As soon as his cock was free of his clothes, all chatter stopped. The heat returned to her cheek as Vivian hesitated.

"Don't start being shy now girl you've got a long night ahead of you," came the cold voice of the blonde from behind her. Vivian resisted the urge to flip him off and swallowed the four-inch cock of the man in front of her. She pretended to gag when her nose hit the flesh of his waist.

He groaned in approval and fisted her hair. Before Vivian could move, the man pulled her up and down the length of his cock, already going fast. His hips slammed up into her nose as she sucked his length tightly. Within mere minutes, the man came in her mouth, long before her jaw even began to ache. She made a dramatic show of loudly swallowing before she pulled off of his cock.

"Not so useless after all," panted the brown-eyed man as he tucked his cock away. "You can return to your Master unless someone else wants you." He waved his hand in dismissal and called for a shot of vodka.

"Come over here and suck me off next," called out a man with red hair and pale skin. He was the one who had asked for the vodka and was already notably intoxicated in such a short time.

Vivian crawled over to the man since she was already on the floor, and several men cheered. She lowered her front to the ground and kept her ass in the air. One man slapped it as she crawled by.

After twenty minutes of sucking the impressively long and thick cock of the ginger male, he finally came. His load, just like his cock, was impressively large. Vivian had to swallow five times to get it all down.

Almost two hours later, she had finally sucked off every man in the room except for the cold blonde. She had even sucked the first guy off a second time already. Vivian knelt on her pillow by the door where Greyson had dismissed her five minutes ago. Her jaw ached, her mouth smelled like come, her nipples were constantly fully erect, and her pussy throbbed with need.

"Should she be let out of her chastity belt now, fellas?" Greyson asked, interrupting the debate about sports they were having. Everyone looked at the cold blonde, who nodded once. "Come here," Greyson said to her.

Vivian walked over and stood in front of her Master. He dug the key for her belt from his pocket and unlocked it. As soon as the belt slipped off her hips, the cold blonde spoke up.

"You will come service me with your pussy now, little whore," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," Vivian replied, and she walked over and straddled his lap.

"Face the other way." His tone was even harsher in a whisper. Vivian turned around to find everyone watching her again. Heat returned to her cheeks as she felt the blonde pull out his cock. He lifted her and, without getting her wet, slid right into her pussy.

Vivian nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion. His cock was thicker than Greyson's and longer too. It felt like it was splitting her in half as he started fucking her down onto his cock right away. Her pussy flooded itself to ease the discomfort as the blonde drilled into her relentlessly. His hands left her waist to torment her nipples.

The blonde then shifted, and Vivian found herself face down on the couch as he continued to pound her from behind. His fingers tugged on her nipples harshly as he drove his cock into her over and over. Vivian came hard before she could stop herself, but the blonde just kept ruthlessly fucking her. Just when she was about to orgasm again, the blonde's hips stuttered and stopped as he dumped his come into her. Vivian had gotten her tubes tied years ago, so all of the seed that would fill her tonight meant nothing.

The blonde slid out of Vivian and dismounted her. Before she could catch her breath, another man spoke up.

"Hey Michael, do you want to go another round in her pussy while I take her mouth," asked the brown-eyed man whom Vivian had sucked off twice now. He liked blow jobs.

"Yeah, that sounds fun to me," replied the cold blonde behind her. As she shifted her weight to accommodate the man that would be fucking her mouth, another man spoke up.

"She's going to need to go on the floor. I think the only thing that will make sure this slut never disrespects her Master again will be getting fucked in all three holes at once," said the man who she had sucked off second.

They rearranged the living room to accommodate all four of them and hauled Vivian to the floor. The green-eyed mad worked her asshole open with lube for far less time than Greyson would and then pulled her back and down onto his cock. Vivian loudly moaned as he filled her ass.

Before she could fully adjust, Michael hovered over them and slammed his cock into her pussy with one thrust. Embarrassment filled Vivian as he shifted his head so the brown-eyed man could take her mouth.

Once all three of her holes were full the men moved all at once. The guy fucking her ass set the pace, and the driving of his cock propelled her along the lengths of the other two men. She had never been this full of cock in her life, and the sensation made her come right away.

"Greedy little whore," chided Michael as he tortured her nipples again. "Already cumming, and we just got started."

Hearing that she was already getting off, the guy fucking her asshole started going faster. His cock slammed into her ass so hard she knew she would have bruises there tomorrow. The embarrassment of having three guys fuck her while six more watched made her come again.

A groan of pleasure warned her just before the brown-eyed man filled her mouth with come. She swallowed and loosened her lips, but he kept his softening cock in her mouth, so she kept sucking on it.

Orgasm after orgasm of her own, these men fucked all three of her holes. Michael came three times into her pussy before he started toying with her clit. The man buried in her ass was causing her pain from dryness when he finally busted.

The foursome lasted another twenty minutes before all the men collapsed onto Vivian. They lay there panting for a few minutes before they all got up, righted themselves, bid Greyson goodbye, and left.

Vivian stayed on the floor, unable to move from all the pleasure and embarrassment. She finally caught her breath and pushed to her elbows, only to notice the rest of the men had left. Only she and Greyson remained.

"Do you think you've learned your lesson?" He asked her as he walked back into the living room.

"Yes, Sir," she replied as she kneeled where she was.

"Then bend over the coffee table. I'm going to fuck your pussy until I'm satisfied," Greyson commanded. Vivian crawled over to the table, unable to trust her legs to carry her.

She bent over the side and rested her cheek on the table. Greyson wasted no time in crossing the room and filling her pussy with his cock.

Every thrust made Vivian ache more and more. Her pussy was so worn out from all of the use. Still, Greyson pounded into her ruthlessly. When he came the first time, he didn't even stop, he just fucked her through it. And his thrusts got rougher, enough so that the table started to move with each snap of his hips.

As he stilled with the second orgasm, Vivian knew she was going to feel this fucking for days. It was a good thing she enjoyed reminders like this and had a private office. Whenever Greyson hadn't grounded her from masturbating, she would take a break, close her blinds, and get off while remembering the most recent time Greyson had used her as a come dump.

When Greyson finally pulled out of her pussy over eight orgasms from him later, she was exhausted to her core. He scooped her up and carried her to his bathroom. Gentle kisses warmed her skin as he ran a bath for her.

"You took your punishment like such a good girl," he cooed in her ear as the water ran. "Such a useful girl who is capable of so much." She loved aftercare from Greyson. He always showered her with praise and baths.

As they bathed and he continued to praise her, Vivian floated on a cloud of bliss. Embarrassment tinged the bliss, but she was free of her chastity belt.

Later that night, as they drifted to sleep in Greyson's bed, she whispered something she had been holding in for a few months now, "I want to try somno."

His arm tightened on her more, and she looked over her shoulder.

"How much are you talking about here? Because we established that you're off limits while unconscious." She mulled over the thought for a minute before she replied.

"The next time you wake up horny, I would be okay waking up to you fingering me or even eating me out."

Delight lit up Greyson's eyes as he kissed her forehead.

"Dually noted, kitten. Now get some sleep you have that meeting at work tomorrow." She groaned at the reminder but settled back into his arms anyway.

Maybe she wouldn't even be mentally present for the meeting if Greyson took advantage of the new information and woke her up with his fingers in her cunt.

[foibles-fables]

tag game (Horizon)

stolen from @hellcheercaine!!! Thanks for the excuse to put off starting work for another few minutes.

1.ride or die ship (your otp): Aloy/Talanah. my rotten soldiers my sweet cheeses my good-time gals

2. most annoying ship: nah you know I don't play that game <3

3. second favourite ship: Aloy/Yarra

4. favourite platonic relationship: Aloy and Erend, Talanah and Milu, Aloy and Sylens

5. underrated ship: gonna say Aloy/Yarra here too. Also Fashav/Kotallo, Beta/Milu, Alva/Seyka (thoughts of an angsty Loyalist!Federa fic won't leave my brain ALONE)

6. overrated ship: see question 2 bls

7. one thing i would change in canon: Oh man. There are...many things, lmao. The clear and obvious one is having Talanah join the base (as we now know was the original intention [rolling_in_the_deep.mp3]). But since that one is a given--completely toss the Zeniths out of HFW. Ground the narrative conflict in gathering the subfunctions, the collapsing biosphere, and Regalla's rebellion instead. Bring GAIA back only at the very end. Save the Zeniths for the major H3 antagonist instead, negating the need for Nemesis as the Bigger Fish. How absolutely baller would it have been if the Beta reveal came as a post-credits stinger instead? (Gerard's voice: "Are you ready to finally make yourself useful, Beta?" and then a camera pan over the face of a Sobeck clone, GOD)

8. something canon did right: The entirety of "Deep Secrets of the Earth" in HZD was a masterclass in storytelling. Every part of exploring PZD HQ was remarkable. The datapoints, the juxtaposition of "The Bad News" with "The Good News," the latter of which as the culminating reveal of the mystery that's been building throughout the entire narrative--it's pretty much perfection.

9. a thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART: may I present to y'all my AO3 trashpile

10. a character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing): ALVA. My personal shining star amongst the HFW companions. I'm also contractually obligated to say Talanah here, even if I want to shake her by the shoulders sometimes (affectionate)

11. the character i relate to the most and why: This is a tough one. I see pieces of myself in a number of the characters, but I'm not sure if there's one that I'm like, yes, that is ME. I could prrooobably say Alva again? But it's not a definitely one-to-one.

12. character(-s) i hate the most and why: All the homies hate Ted Faro, that's for sure. But that's low-hanging fruit. So I'll give Amadis as well, though not for the seemingly-obvious reason--I cannot stand the sole purpose for which he was written, from the comic all the way through his weird unsatisfying ending in HFW. He's a repeated character with a repeated conflict that was already handled much more compellingly through Nil and is rendered useless and storyless by the end of Need to Know. Bringing him back in H3 would be the sorest mistake the narrative could make aside from a sacrificial ending for Aloy. He's just unneeded character bloat in an already-admittedly-bloated cast.

13. something i've learned from the fandom: You will make some of your very best friends here. Everyone is creative and hilarious and so smart. We all connect to the Horizon universe in a different way, and sharing your enthusiasm with others is what just makes the world feel even richer than what you could have imagined.

14. three tags i seek out on ao3: I typically don't browse AO3 directly!

15. a song i strongly associate with my otp/favourite character: you're gonna make me pick ONE?? oh man, okay. so this changes by the day, and today I'll say Oceanator's "I Would Find You" is THEE Hawk and Thrush anthem.

tagging: since I stole this untagged, I challenge YOU to do the same! Choose your fandom and talk about it!

[bleachbleachbleach]

Tag Meme

tag whoever you want to get to know better!

Thank you for the tag, @bendingwind! Responding here instead because my anime-heavy answers felt more relevant to B3 than whipplefilter.

I will no-pressure tag @dreaming-about-seireitei (idk why it won't let me tag you?? so I hope you see this if you want to do it!), @the-sage-libriomancer, and @paniniwrap, because you are my most recently-followed blogs~ I will also tag anyone who sees this and wants to do it, because I can guarantee you I want to read your responses!

--

Three ships: Three ships I have written recently: Kira/Rose monsterfucking; Hinamori/Hitsugaya (rather, Kira developing minor negative feelings about Hitsugaya because IT’S A LOT, HINAMORI. Like I’m your bro, he assures her, but it’s a lot); Renji/Rukia, if only the dominoes would fall the right way, which at the moment they are not, for dumb work reasons and also their dumb coworkers.

First Ship: I dunno, Gabrielle/Xena?

Last song: I didn’t listen to any music today, so I guess by default… the 4th ED for Haikyuu?

Last Film: …Muppet Treasure Island, I think? Wow, I sure am getting an A+ in answering questions!

Currently Reading: In This World of Ultraviolet Light by Raul Palma, which is a collection of short stories that tend toward the skrunkly, the macabre, but are also just incredibly truthful. He gave a reading of “Stand Your Ground” last year, and it was so excellent I think it was THE best thing I read all year. It was the kind of story that makes you really want to write, because it’s so good and he’s so good.

Currently watching: We’re rewatching Haikyuu again, in a perpetual cycle of rewatching Haikyuu!! We just finished the Seijou/Karasuno rematch, which was an INCREDIBLY emotionally taxing experience, because I want Karasuno to win but I also want Oikawa to win, and the fine details of that match are overwhelming.

I was swapping anime recs with a friend on LJ the other day, and she was like, “Wow, we have such similar tastes! That’s so rare, as varied as anime can be.” And internally I was like, IT’S BECAUSE YOU ALREADY TOLD ME YOU HATED LONG SERIAL BATTLE SHOUNEN. ToT Nah. I mean, she did say that, but I was intentionally reccing her things I liked that I thought she would also like. XD It’s just that I thought she would like them for the fanservice and the angst, and I like them because of the like, folding tables. (I love you Seijou folding table and banner on the ground.)

I also have 20 minutes left of the series finale of Reservation Dogs, but I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

Currently consuming: Faildinner, which is distinct from girldinner because it’s when you feel very smart about making dishes that do a good job of using up last week’s leftover ingredients, only to realize you’ve made a tomato-based potato/squash dish and a balsamic vinegar-based chicken dish, which is already ACID ON ACID until you realize you also made a shchi recipe that included SAUERKRAUT.

Currently craving: JUSTICE. Not to be overly dramatic. At work today an adult child said something innocently intended but honestly kind of fucked up and I am so mad about it. It’s not remotely his responsibility to know our ranks or employment histories, but he assumed my colleague was older and more experienced and that I was learning from her, because he could “see the similarities in our teaching style.” Which, I just wanna say, EXCUUUUUSE ME???? I actually have years more experience than her??? I don’t know how old she is but we’re functionally the same age. But she just came back from maternity leave, and those similarities in our style are because I DESIGNED. THAT COURSE. And I gave it to her and told her she was welcome to keep whatever and change whatever, because she just came back from maternity leave and she should get all the shortcuts she needs. But the course is similar to mine because I MADE IT. Like, what a bizarre set of assumptions to make. Again, doesn’t matter, it’s not his business, there’s no reason that’s information he should have or care about, but omg, definitely not over it. Thanks I hate it!! /end rant

[hastalavistabyebye]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks @commanderfoxdeservesbetter for the tag ☺️ I think I'm going to cheat a bit and talk about some of my original works tho (warning they are in french) because there wouldn't have much to say other way 😅

1) How many works do you have on AO3 ?

Since yesterday night : two !

2) What is your total AO3 word count ?

3,568

3) What fandoms do you write for ?

Star wars, more precisely the Clone Wars as of late

4) What is your top five fics by kudos ?

Well two fics.

1) Just this once

2) A fox somewhere is hiding but I literally post it yesterday so no surprise here xD

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not ?

Of course, it's always heart warming to get comments !

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending ?

I tend to write happy endings to angsty fics xD maybe one of my original works Le Casque because it's about Achilles and Patroclus ?

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending ?

Mmmh don't know, like I said I'm partial to happy endings globally so all my stories finish pretty well. Let's go with a fanfic, so I'll say Just this once.

8) Do you get hate on fics ?

No thankfully xD

9) Do you write smut ?

Nah.

10) Do you write crossovers ?

As of late no, but maybe one day.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen ?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated ?

Nope.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic ?

Nope once again xD

14) What's you all-time favourite ship ?

Dementors x Umbridge I'd say xD but I don't know all dynamics are unique.

15) What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will ?

I don't doubt I will finish it, it's just going to take a lot of time, but that would be my Rebel Fox fic.

16) What's your writing strengths ?

I don't know, my capacity to use vastly different form of narration I think ?

17) What's your writing weaknesses ?

Too long sentences xD and well writing in English ain't always easy when it's not your native language.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic ?

... xD

But no, more seriously, if I know the language, no problem at all, I kind of like it sometimes, if it suites the characters (mando'a is the best exemple even if it's an imaginary language)

19) First fandom you wrote for ?

Star wars ! Yep I'm really a baby fanfic writer.

20) Favourite fic you ever written ?

Must be A fox somewhere is hiding ? I really loved writing it. (But there is one of my original works I loved writing on, it's Les histoires de l'avent - the advent's stories ? Don't know how to translate it :/)

I won't tag anyone because I have no idea who to tag but if you want to do it feel free to tag me in it ! I would love to see your answers :)