#putting off writing it for this reason alone

[glazedcroissant]

Been thinking about Galacta knight and his use of fire. I've actually got a few headcannons about it if you want to have a read!:

So! I've actually got a whole system worked out for how I think magic in the Kirby universe might work, but let's just look at this goof first. *puts him under a magnifying glass*

To start, every mage has their own unique form of Energy magic. It's essentially their "default" manifestation of mana; the caster's most natural state of magic. It is generally seen as the safest type of magic to use, easily channeled through the body and moldable enough to use in a wide range of spells. As a bonus, its drawbacks are small, requiring a mage to burn through nearly all their mana reserves before they'd have to deal with any advirse effects. Galacta knight uses this type of magic for things like his energy swords and abusing the laws of nature by using his own mana as an ill advised substitute for sleep.

Some find their Energy magic limiting on its own, prompting research into other forms of magic to tie into their spells, such as elemental magic.

Fire magic, like all elemental magic, can be quite costly against its user if not used with caution. Every use raises the caster's body temperature, leading to sweating and eventual coughing. Abuse of the element will envitably cause minor to severe burns at channeling sights, depending on one's tolerance and overuse. It is important to time attacks and casts far enough apart from each other to allow the body time to cool down again. Some learn counter elemental spells to cut down on this recovery time—such as water or ice magic to counter fire—but such rapid heating and cooling is dangerous and harmful to the body.

Galacta knight is an incredible fire mage, having a natural aptitude for it, given his affinity. The vast majority of magic users are born, or soon develop, an affinity to a specific kind of magic. They're brought into the world with an innate understanding of that type, though it may take some time before they realize what it is. Galacta knight's being fire gives him a better tolerance to its effects than most. Even so, he is not immune, and manifesting blisteringly hot flames within one's core is, generally, unrecommended (nevermind setting your whole body alight in a blaze of glory). It's typical to see mage's using weapons or heatproof gloves as their channeling sights to help prevent self-inflicted burns, and Galacta will typically use his lance or shield for this. However, spells can often be charged and fired off faster and more powerfully when expelled through the body alone. That, and breathing fire looks cool as hell. Galacta figures a parched throat and dry eyes for a couple hours is worth the payoff. He's tried the whole counter element deal to cool off faster, but Water magic doesn't mesh well with him. He lacks the the serenity and steady flow at his core to understand it.

Also! As a fun little addition. If you're wondering why I ting his fire pink, it's because that's the color of his natural Energy magic. Elemental magic is still dependent on the user's own mana pool, with it's appearance changing from mage to mage depending on the individual's natural magic properties.

This is just my own thoughts I've scraped together into the doughy mixing bowl of my brain, of course. And, like dough, these thoughts are subject to change and grow later on. I've got some thoughts on the ins and out of How elemental magic, and the other types, are cast in terms of the technical (l say loosely cause it's literally magic) aspects of them, but I don't have all those details ironed out yet. My mind is a fickle thing, never wanting to settle on one headcannon or another. It's part of the reason I hesitate to write and draw longer character scenes and interactions, my opinions of them constantly shifting. But! I do think I'm getting to the point where I can keep them somewhat consistent in my head. Thus, my little fire magic spiel.

[boyfriendtodeathconfessional]

A large reason I got into BTD + TPOF was the horror aspects and writing of certain characters; like Ren for example.

As fucked up as it sounds Ren is one of the only characters to share my same ways of being affected by abuse especially after being isolated by an abuser. The grappling at wanting to believe the abuser loved you and cared about you because you had a few good moments together, trying to explain away the abuse that happened to you, falling into old habits that you had during the abuse or learning the habits of the abuser and taking them on because it's all you've learned are all things I've done in my life as a result of being abused for almost my whole life.

To me Ren's route is terrifyingly realistic and something I can relate to. In one ending he cries about how he had literally no one except Strade and is trying to grasp the fact Strade did abuse him, all while still trying to explain and deny it. He says he loved him, which is something I found myself feeling about my abusers a lot. It's easy to believe they love you during the good times or even just when you've been alone for so long that any sort of affection, no matter how false or fucked up, reads as love to the mind. He feels like shit for not saving Strade, even knowing if he did he'd still be being abused because he thinks it's better that way because at least he'd still have someone, even if that someone hurt him so badly it altered his path of life completely.

Fox shares a lot of these relations as well. The want to have control so badly you'll do anything for it, grasping at any straws you can all while falling back into the habits you were trying so hard to escape. Fox himself doesn't exactly seem to enjoy hurting the MC once he gets to know them more, even stopping them from killing themselves on stream and saving them and instantly being concerned about their well-being even right before. He gets us the prosthetic because he wants us to stay alive. He doesn't want to lose us hence why he puts so much effort into us, even getting upset when we die in show 2. And furthermore he's still in denial about Strade once again. He says that all Strade did was make the scars but they didn't make him, but it's a lie. We know from BTD 2 that Ren can get better with the proper support and help, but In TPOF he never got that help. He wouldn't know how to be a showman or snuff streamer without Strade. Strade taught him all he knows and he doesn't want to admit that he's down this path because of him. He's repeating the same steps as his abuser while trying to deny he had any effect on him at all.

He tries so hard to please chat that he ignores his own wants. His wants to keep us safe and stay with him? He ignores them. In Show 3 there's a chance for a sprite to pop up where Fox tells you to wait, but then turns back to chat and see they're getting upset at him, likely making him worry as he thinks they may leave him if he doesn't listen. The people he's been trying to use as a substitute for Strade's affection turning on him the moment he shows worry for someone he's starting to care about. So upon noticing their reaction he addresses them, telling them he was just making sure they're having a good time while punishing himself for caring about us and trying to stop us by digging his claws into his wrists to make him bleed, punishing himself for going against those who he thinks love them, but they don't love him. They love that he's trapped himself again, that he'll do whatever they say no matter what because he's reliant on them. He thinks hurting the MC gives him some sense of control but in reality he's still completely lost any control he once had by listening to chat and not his own wants.

When you tell him "I thought you were the one in charge" it sets off to him that he in fact has never had control and has just been doing what everyone else wants. He only took you in because Celia said it'd be cute. It wasn't a genuine decision he made on his own. No decision has been.

In BTD 2 as well we can see endings where he ends up revictimized which is something I fear I've been through so many times, especially regarding sexual abuse. Ren becomes scared of you, terrified even, so he falls back into the old habits of listening and obeying because he thinks if he just listens it'll be ok. It'll be better that way. Fighting causes more issues so it's better to just take it, no matter how much it hurts and he doesn't want to. He'll force himself to like it, to love you, because now you're the one giving him the attention. You're who he'll be dependent on.

He also shows that abused can become the abusers as well, even if just by repeating actions they view as correct because it's what they've been taught and all they know. He doesn't know any other way, so he does what he knows worked to make him care about Strade and hopes it'll have the same effect on you.

Ren / Fox means so much to me as a victim of abuse because he shows the sides of abuse most people don't touch upon and are too scared to talk about or want to brush under the rug. It kinda sucks to me when I see people discredit him just because he's from a horrorporn game because he really is, at least to me from my own experiences with abuse and the aftermath/struggles, extremely accurate to the struggles that come after getting out of an abusive situation where all you know is your abuser and hold them to such high regard because you have no one else in life and will try to justify them no matter what because they're all you know and have or had.

.

[fortheloveof--sebastian]

Recompense

Part One

Summary: After marrying, you think you’ve put your past behind you. But when none other than Sebastian Sallow appears, you’re thrust right back into the dangers of ancient magic and an increasingly complicated entanglement with both Sebastian and Ominis.

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC x Ominis

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: MDNI, it will get dark and angsty and smutty

A/N: I dedicate this first chapter to @rambling-tam for listening to me talk about Sebastian and inspiring me to write the first few chapters of this fic. I really wanted to delve more into what Sebastian’s trial and his adult relationships with Ominis and MC might look like. It’s dual timelines, so stay with me

June 1903, England

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

One hand on the doorknob, Ominis Gaunt hovers in the threshold of your home. Outside, it’s raining gently. It’s adorable, the way his aristocratic features furrow with concern. A surge of affection crashes over you at the sight, leading you to cross the kitchen to his side and squeeze his arm.

“It’s only a week,” you assure him, grateful that he can’t read the sadness in your face, “I think I can manage until then.”

“It wasn’t my plan to leave so soon after —”

“I know,” you interrupt, saving him the trouble. You rock up on your toes and kiss his cheek. He smells wonderful, like aftershave and pine and the tobacco from his pipe.

Your heart pangs at the thought of him leaving, but you know that you must disguise your disappointment. Ominis had been called away for work regarding an urgent matter, an important one, one that — you remind yourself — he needs to tend. If you show the slightest hint of hesitance, he’ll stay, and you can’t be the reason to keep him from his responsibilities.

Ominis covers your hand with his own. “Need I remind you to make your safety a priority?”

“I shall do my best,” you vow.

“I do not want to explain to the authorities that my wife has perished under mysterious circumstances. They always suspect the husband, you know.”

You grin despite yourself. “I’m aware.”

“Very well then.” A beat passes. When Ominis does speak again, his voice has abandoned its jesting tone, wrought with emotion. “I’ll miss you. Terribly. To think, I had you all to myself for a whole month and now…”

He trails off, throat bobbing. It’s nearly enough for you to snatch him back inside, try and conceal the unburdened bliss from your honeymoon. But, you suppress this urge, difficult as it may be.

You hug him again, fiercely, then step back to fix his suit.

Not unsurprisingly, Ominis looks incredibly debonair, even in his traveling attire, an echo of a past life. Secretly, you fear that he struggles with shedding his wealth and his proper upbringing, that he will no longer find your modest house charming and that he will regret giving it up to be with you. But, then again, when he looks at you like this — heartbreakingly vulnerable, reminiscent of the young boy who suffered at the hands of that family — you feel silly for ever doubting him.

“I love you,” Ominis says finally. He steps onto the covered porch, crushing his hat down over his crown of golden hair.

“I love you.” Even though he can’t see it, you make a shooing motion with your arms. “I shall stay alive to save you from any unsavory accusations by the police. Now go, lest you miss your train!”

There’s a Ministry issued carriage at the edge of your drive waiting for him. You stand on the porch where he had just been moments ago and watch his retreating form. He runs to avoid the brunt of the rain, then folds himself into the carriage. Ominis’ face appears in the window shortly after, and you wave at him until he disappears out of sight down the road.

Then the bravery you’ve upheld for him slips as you turn back to your now empty house.

It’s not that you’re afraid to be alone. Merlin knows that you’ve proved your capabilities over and over again. And there’s little to worry about with all of the protective wards you’ve placed.

Rather, you’re worried about what will happen when you wake from your nightmares, crying and thrashing, and Ominis isn’t there to soothe you. Nothing can subside your fears like his arms around you, lips pressed to your temple and telling you that he’s there with you.

Blinking away tears, you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders and set to distracting yourself.

The first day is quite easy. It’s the weekend, so you’re not required to work, and since it’s raining you’ve elected to stay inside and read, curled up in Ominis’ favorite chair. By the time the owl arrives, delivering a message from your husband that he’s arrived safely, you can’t believe that night has already fallen.

In his letter, Ominis laments about the chatty neighbor on his train ride and that he misses your company. You read over it twice, desperate for any part of him, as you dress into your nightgown and let your hair down for bed.

Once you’ve all but memorized his perfect script, you sit down at your vanity and pen back a response. The owl hops closer to you expectantly. It’s not one that you recognize, probably Ministry issued like the carriage, but you give it a quick scratch under the chin before tying the message around its ankle.

A cold wind whips around you as you stand at your bedroom window and admire the moonlight on the tawny owl’s wings as it soars over the darkened countryside.

You almost don’t notice the strange prickling sensation that breaks out over your skin, not belonging to the chill of nighttime. When you bring your awareness to it, you realize that it feels as if something, or someone, is staring at you.

“Lumos,” you mutter, finding your wand.

The spell illuminates the immediate area beneath your window and the small garden that Ominis keeps, revealing nothing but a startled rabbit that bolts back into the line of trees surrounding your property. You peer into the shadows. Would you be able to tell if someone was out there, watching you at this very moment?

The thought of unknown eyes sends a shudder down your spine, and prompts you to throw one arm protectively over your breasts while throwing the window, and curtains, closed with the other.

No one was watching you. You were just being paranoid.

Right?

It had been over a decade since you’ve had to seriously fear for your life, hunted by malicious wizards and goblins. But as you settle into bed, pulling the covers up with shaking hands, you can’t help but remember the one person who still had unfinished business with you — except he was squared away in a fortified prison.

His name enters your mind unbidden, a shadow slipping beneath the crack of a closed door.

Sebastian.

It strikes you like an arrow.

All those years ago, when you were just a child, you had testified against Sebastian in the trial for his uncle’s murder. Ominis had been the one to turn him in, convincing you afterwards to testify. Ominis swore it was the right decision. Sebastian had let his obsession with curing Anne, with the Dark Arts, consume him and it was better to send him away before it turned him into something he was not.

Sleep evades you. You stare up at the ceiling and listen to the chorus of insects outside, relishing the break in the rain.

The benefit of hindsight, of age, made you wonder if perhaps Ominis had just been trying to hide away his problems the way his family taught him. Out of sight, out of mind. Which wasn’t to say that Ominis decided what he did out of hate — he loved Sebastian, perhaps at a similar depth that you did.

The three of you were, after all, irrevocably entangled, body and soul, until you could scarcely tell where you started and they ended.

And yet…you still sent Sebastian to that place.

Even if you didn’t turn him in, it was partially your testimony that put the final nail in the coffin.

When sleep finally does claim you, there’s a trail of fresh tears on your cheeks.

June 1981, Hogwarts

“They’re looking for you. They think you’re still on the grounds,” you say in way of greeting. You wiggle out of your cloak, magicking it away before turning to face the Room of Requirements.

The empty room.

Panic strikes like a hot iron pressed against your skin. You venture forward. “Hello?”

“Master Sallow is in the vivarium,” Deek answers, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He regards you nervously. The house elf does not approve of you harboring, well, a fugitive, but he’s fallen victim to Sebastian’s charm and won’t say anything outright about it.

You wish that others felt similarly about him.

Thanking Deek, you make your way to the vivarium and blink against the gloom, waiting for your eyes to adjust. It takes several sweeps of the marsh to find him. Sebastian is perched atop one side of the thestral pen, sitting perfectly still and watching the horse-like creatures graze. When he spots you, there’s a faint ripple of happiness on his otherwise stoic face.

“I was looking for you,” you tell him.

In the slants of watery sunlight through the willow trees, you catch a fleeting glimpse of the mischievous boy you knew from before. “You found me.”

Not wanting to disrupt this moment, you decide to wait to tell him news of the investigation, instead slinging your leg over the fence and sitting beside him. It’s maddening, being so close to him, pinkies touching, this boy that’s completely enchanted you.

“They’re peacefully, aren’t they?” You ask.

The thestrals, while emaciated and macabre, move with elegance. At your arrival, a few lift their heads and blink at you with milky white eyes.

“Very.” Sebastian’s throat works as he swallows. “People are wrong to be afraid of them.”

“They’re misunderstood,” you say.

Sebastian glances at you. His dark eyes search yours. “They’re still looking for me, aren’t they?”

“They suspect you’re still on the grounds.”

“I should leave,” he says suddenly, “if they find me, they’re going to accuse you of —”

You interrupt, “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’ve already put you through enough.” Sebastian grabs your hand, not in a gesture of comfort but desperation. “Please. If there’s anything I can do to lessen your involvement in my mistakes. They’re mine to carry, Sassenach. Not yours.”

You squeeze his hand back. “Stay. I beg you.”

There’s a moment of charged tension between you before Sebastian finally relents, bringing your hand to his mouth. His warm breath fans over your skin, eliciting goosebumps. Sebastian kisses your knuckles. "I will, for you.”

[nezuswritingdesk]

xavier parenting au

A/n: rounding up the parenting au before all the fics and silly stuff, we got papa xavier and his 2, almost 3 children. (lumi was being a brat and demanded their release so you should thank little lumi) also Xavier's debut post! istg, i have a love-hate relationship with him because he keeps blocking zayne from coming home >:(

Primarily inspired by @tbaluver @starmocha and every xavier girl and boy dad thing I've seen since

Obligatory tag for Aly bc she's the kids godmother: @deusfoundry

cw/tw: family content, fluff, babies! very cute babies, pregnancy

wc: 732 words

Now now, papa xavier huh? This man sleeps more than your the children combined.

Xavier has collected all their plushies from the arcade, each child has a collection of plushies they sleep with.

He tries his best to cook meals for the kids but that didn't turn out good (He's gonna peel fruit from now on becuse cielo told him himself that he shouldn't cook, ever)

Anyways, Xavier is a father of 2 children . Well to put it accurately, 2 almost 3 children.

Cielo is the eldest child. He is 6 years old. His name means sky in Spanish, and you named him.

Looks like you but got Xavier's bright blue eyes and very relaxed personality.

As a baby, he was very quiet and sleepy, with the occasional fuss. Both you and Xavier had to constantly check on him to make sure he was breathing back then (he is don't worry).

When he's awake, he's a lively and smiley child. a little bit shy at first but he's cute

he's a little shit sometimes but that's okay his parents love him

hes a bit of an airhead sometimes

LOVES ALIENS (how do you feel about being part alien Cielo?)

He loves to read his father's comic book collection and sometimes copies the drawings

Reading his father's comic book collection had inspired him to write and draw things.

he loves his baby brother so muchhhh. he adores him since you had told him that he'll be a big brother

he read to altair (his little brother) as a baby

he's classmates with lumi, calebs middle child

he sometimes naps in class lol but is an all rounder

Is Lumi's secret-not so secret crush

Has the BIGGEST, FATTEST, CRUSH on Lumi but hes shy to tell her how he feels (maybe when theyre older)

wants to learn how to fight with a sword to protect his siblings too

meanwhile, his baby brother altair was named by xavier. He is currently 2 years old, thoughts and prayers to your both.

acts a lot like you, looks like xavier

the world's most fuzziest and crying baby

can not be left alone or he'll cry for mommy and daddy or cielo

he's very talkative and emotional

gets jealous when he sees lumi play with his big brother— always tries to sabotage it — well, as best as 2 year old can do

is the reason why you're pregnant, again. with a 3rd child. (hes jealous that his big brother is playing with lumi more than HIM). he basically demanded her into existence.

he's very cute like his brother too ! very respectful and gentle

likes being held

likes people reading to him, especially big brother Cielo

He loves animals! Really or stuffed toy otherwise

As mentioned, there is an upcoming child for Xavier, but it's still in the making.

it's a baby girl

whoops your having another baby again because your husband can't keep his hands off you, and baby altair is jealous that his big brother is playing with a girl instead him

The kids were with auntie Tara or Uncle Caleb and his kids when you got knocked up oopsies (you couldn't remember when because he fucked you STUPID and the sex was so good 10/10)

And now here we are :)

You're 5 months now Goodluck sweets

And this little miss is very active.

adores her father and brothers’ voice and touch

You have a name in mind, keeping how with the starry/constellation names

But for now? She's okay being a growing fetus.

Despite being a hunter, Xavier tries his best to come home uninjured or with injuries he can hide so that the kids won't worry too much.

On his days off, he spends most if not all of his time with the kids: playing, afternoon naps, going outside to enjoy hotpot dinners (cielo is an absolute fan of them), catching plushies, etc.

At the end of the day, he comes home from working, and sees them try their best to stay up, waiting for him. It brings a smile to his face. He puts his sword down, changes his boots into comfortable slippers, picks up Cielo and Altair in each arm and brings them to their beds for the night. After, he would enter your shared room to kiss you and the growing baby a simple goodnight before sleeping with you.

A/N: sigh. all of the introduction posts are done! everyone, please thank xia lumi for forcing me to post xavier and the kids (Shes playing with cielo now) i hope youre enjoying the au so far, feel free to request and ask more about this lovely au! i would love to yap more about the families and the little kids too! hope you like this one!

[ilikekidsshows]

I think it's fascinating how Marinette fans' argument simply never change. It's still the same general and basic explanations they've been saying for years on end and they all come down to saying that the rest of the narrative beyond Marinette herself doesn't rlly matter.

They think they have to explain that Marinette is 14, has feelings and is stressed and traumatised because that's somehow something that can be missed while watching the show? Or they think that you not liking her means you somehow "forgot" about these information, or you just never considered it and put it together.

That's so wild to me. They genuinely believe that the most basic information about our main character and the story and every single conflict in the show is some secret special knowledge only THEY have.

As if it's impossible to just fundamentally disagree with the morality of a main character's writing. Especially when the main character centric morality hasn't always been a thing, so things obviously changed.

It's so interesting to me that Marinette fans act like they dont understand that it should be NORMAL for a piece of media to be consumable in long term even if you don't vibe with the main character. It's totally valid to just enjoy a piece of media for other characters and the world it shows. It's a sign of a GOOD show, if you can do this.

What ruins it for Miraculous is that the writers are OBSESSED with making everything they established now as one sided as possible, even if the retcons are incredibly mean spirited and even harmful messages to the kids watching, because Marinette must have her way, be the center of the universe, and be validated that she's pure and the greatest person ever.

What ruins Miraculous in this sense is that the show doesn't ALLOW you to ever escape Marinette and her main character centric morality for 5 seconds. Other shows just have the plot be about their main character but they still let the world be on its own. But Miraculous is obnoxiously aggressiv in telling you that it's only get to be about HER, even when it hardly ever IS. That's insanely insecure writing.

Just let Marinette be the MC who we follow as the plot happens around her in the interesting world. She herself barely matters because that's how they WROTE her. But don't make it ABOUT her when it isn't?

---

The Maripologist creed of “she's fourteen, stressed out and traumatized” really just leans into that thing I’ve been saying, how Marinette is the only character treated as a fictional person by the writers and her apologists. Because, like, even when the more reasonable Marinette stans also use this cliché, they at least apply it to every character. The typical Maripologist only cares that everyone understands that Marinette being a teen in the show means that criticizing her is the same as bullying a child, while they hate on other equally 14-year-old characters, who are also stressed out and/or traumatized.

The thing is that I know where this defense came from. It sprung up as a way to defend young protagonists making typical young protagonist mistakes that the fandom was very harsh on them for. It was intended as a way to get people to put a character’s mistake into perspective. “The writers intend this to be a mistake and they're purposefully writing this character as an inexperienced child.”

It's basically the Mabel Pines defense. But, like, even in the case of Mabel Pines, the “this is a fictional character” aspect covers more of her so-called crimes than “the writers are just making her a realistic kid on purpose” does. Because, like, here's the thing: the Weirdpocalypse is the consequence of Mabel thinking: “I’ll stretch out the summer for a bit so that I can come to terms with going home alone” and the entire second act of Weirdpocalypse storyline deals with Mabel being confronted with the issues that caused her to think messing with spacetime was a good idea. You can't say Mabel got off lightly just because there was no big moment of “Dipper found out Mabel got tricked by Bill and now Dipper is mad at her”, when she was put in court to confront her own issues. The writers dealt with the cause of what happened, so it won't happen again.

Never mind how the fans still harping on about Mabel years after the show ended ignore how the Weirdpocalypse was always going to happen because Ford decided “this knowledge that is essential in keeping my arch enemy at bay should never be shared to any allies because I’m a paranoid control freak and what if my arch enemy finds out through them?” I’m not saying Ford should be getting dragged across the coals for “getting off easy” because the writers dealt with even that by having Ford face how his own paranoid behavior was pushing people away (mostly Stan) and his consequences were to have the thing he wanted to prevent happen anyway, have someone else save the day and almost lose the person he pushed away the most permanently.

Like, there are ways to tell if writers are actually holding their characters accountable or if they're just milking a character’s flaws with no intent of payoff and it’s not just about what characters say but how these things are framed. You can tell if the writers are actually interested in dealing with the reasons behind a character’s behavior or if they're just giving you backstory to serve as an excuse. Because, as I said, Ford has to face how him being unnecessarily cryptic and distant with anyone who isn't his protege/new best friend he can manipulate and order around is the very reason he's so lonely and has to deal with things alone.

Ford doesn't let people help him because he keeps unnecessary secrets from people who would help him, or would need that info to not fall into Bill’s hands. Ford takes responsibility for the whole world of his own volition, all because of this kind of thinking. And the thing is, the feud between him and Stan is the result of this attitude and it lasts for alomost as long as Ford is a character in the series, until they finally talk honestly. I will say that before that confrontation Ford grinded my gears with how static he seemed to be as a character, and that was only for half a season, so it is in writers’ best interest to deal with things like characters trying to piss you off on purpose in a timely manner. I can’t say I would have enjoyed Gravity Falls as much as I did, or at all, if Ford was the only character whose perspective was allowed to matter and him acting like a self-important dunce lasted for an entire season, like we’re aiming to do with Marinette gaslighting Adrien.

When characters mess up in Gravity Falls, the plot is gonna twist in a way that specifically gets them to unpack that. When Marinette messes up, the plot is gonna twist in a way where she gets vindicated or the bad thing she did is going to be ignored in favor of her getting pats on the back for failing again. We're to the level of Alya getting mindwiped to justify Marinette not having to actually confront the things she's done and, most importantly, why she keeps doing this. Marinette going: “The truth is too harsh” is not addressing the core of the issue: the fact that she's scared because she can't control how Adrien will react to the truth and how he will see her afterwards, because the truth makes her look bad and Marinette is overly self-conscious of other people’s perception of herself. Marinette being worried about how things will reflect on her is behind so many of the hurtful things Marinette does, so addressing that would be what any good story aims to do, but Miraculous isn't a good story.

And, like, as you said, if the show didn't try to be so Marinette-focused all the time, they wouldn't be shooting themselves in the foot by having Marinette constantly doing annoying things while insisting to the audience that only bad people get annoyed at Marinette. Like, just don't have Marinette cause the inciting incident so often! Focus on other characters! You have a huge cast that used to have a variety of hobbies that weren't just shipping Marinette with Adrien. Have Nathaniel deal with someone plagiarizing his art, deal with Adrien's fans not respecting his right to privacy when it's not about how inconvenient that is to Marinette, have Nino coming up with new gimmicks to try to break it into showbiz and how that could backfire. We had other options than: "Marinette is trying to get close to Adrien, hijinks ensue" and now "Marinette is a lying liar who lies, drama ensues".

[kings-highway]

Out of captain squad and captains’ long-suffering boyfriends squad, who’d survive the hunger games?

okay first off to clear the air if I was going to write a hunger games au it would NOT look like this. It's incredibly easy to spin almost any character into a victor if you give them the main character treatment, so please do not think this below is my, like, die-hard AU idea of how it would go. if I WAS to write a hunger games au, I would probably focus significantly more on support staff characters, mentors and stylists surrounding the games and put a lot less of my main characters into the games specifically, and would probably go for a successful rule breaking arena with more than one survivor, as I don't tend to want to bloodbath my characters HOWEVER in service of answering this specific question, I'm going to try and do justice to the way the hunger games are written (mercilessly) and not break any "rules"

assuming all the captains and their applicable boyfriends are reaped from the same districts, I think a reasonable story fitting with the pattern of the hunger game books would be as follows:

right off the bat, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Kuroo and Ushijima are dead in the cornucopia battle. That is because these are the characters that would have taken on the role of trying to get weapons and supplies from the thick of it to give themselves a leg up. Ushijima might be able to brute force his way out of this battle, but he wouldn't escape uninjured, and would probably die the next day in a combat being unable to sufficiently defend himself.

Bokuto and Akaashi, as well as Aran and Kita, both decided to skip the cornucopia entirely. Akaashi deduces quickly where the rest of the teams are going to focus their energy, and they head in the opposite direction giving them space and distance on their half of the arena, but almost no supplies.

Suga would also get out of the cornucopia battle unscathed, but without any supplies.

Suga would end up in Bo and Akaashi's half of the arena trying to survive for however long he could without real supplies. He'd be able to find water but wouldn't be able to sleep at night over fear of getting snuck up on. Exhaustion and hunger would pick at him, and after surviving a good few days would run into Bo and Akaashi and be forced to cooperate with them to share resources and not starve to death. While this is a safe alliance for him, the next time there is trouble, either other tributes or mutts or an arena ploy, Bo and Akaashi would protect each other first and Suga would go down.

Kenma would make it far and fast but he would be alone, and actually do quite well for himself. Clever and quiet he finds a place far towards the edge of the arena and sort of just sets up shop. The problem is that he doesn't have the initiative needed to try and hunt or kill other tributes on his own. Kenma has the potential to win the games if freak accidents took everyone out, because he would remain entirely unknown and invisible for the majority of the time. Kenma would probably make it to last 10, minimum.

He would have a much higher chance of winning the games in an arena like the 75th, where the mechanics require him to constantly be thinking and moving, but in a standard wilderness arena, he would grow a little complacent with it, and eventually succumb to something like tracker jackers or the butterflies, or a mist/flood. Something that can warm him and he can't outsmart.

Aran and Kita end up in a bigger alliance for a little bit, but as numbers in the arena dwindle their alliance does too, and the more bloodthirsy among them turn on them. I imagine they'd die in a slaughter with like 6 other people, trying to fight back. Probably the second biggest since the cornucopia. They might end up spilling some blood themselves though. Good for them. Not easy to take down.

Oikawa would be one of the only contestants actively trying to fight back, and spending his time not looking for resources but other people to try and take down. Not that I'm trying to imply that Oikawa could or would want to kill people, but I think he's the most likely to go "well they all have to die for me to leave this arena so the sooner that happens the better"

This would, ultimately, probably, result in his death in a 1-on-1 fight that he simply underestimated. It would be very dramatic and people in the capitol would love it. People would talk about him like "god he should have won he would have been a perfect victor" and then just smile and continue with their complicity.

Bokuto and Akaashi would be ""boring"" contestants and as a result the gamemakers would be constantly trying to force them closer to the other tributes, using various mutts and arena mechanics (probably resulting in the situation that kills Suga) realizing that these two aren't going to turn on each other or seek out others, and to prevent the audience from getting bored they would eventually release a massive pack of something nightmarish on them and let nature take care of the rest. They'd probably die without seeing a single tribute that wasn't Suga after several days on their side of the arena - they'd probably also be top 10.

Which brings me to my actual answer to this question, which is that coming out on top with a mix of clever predictive abilities and mild sociopathic tendencies, would be Tendou. Now I don't know if he played the games looking to win, in a very murdery way, or if he simply managed to avoid everything that killed everyone else, and was too difficult to catch, but either way I can absolutely see Tendou being the last one standing when the games close HOWEVER I also think he would immediately kill himself as a fuck you to the capitol. Not in the Katniss-Peeta "oh we're gonna do this together to call their bluff" no, no, Dude hears the bells go off and the cannons signifying the end of the games, realies he's won, and the moment he sees that plane coming in to take him out he has consumed more poison than any body could ever handle. I just think he would like ruining their games by not letting them have a victor. Also he was barely hanging on to his sanity in his normal life he is too mentally ill to handle this much additional trauma. so. out. on national television while everyone is watching. bye bye.

Anyway that's all folks hope you enjoyed the games.

[fatherbrat]

one more hockey player!sukuna post and i’ll feel obligated to make an mlist for it

[puppppppppy]

Atla live action 😐

[momijiba]

( anonymous ) Milla is it possible to write ships with you or are you only ship exclusive with Erabundus?

hey there ^^ i am totally up for ships.. from any kind.. but i need a communication between muns and muses, i like for things to happen slowly over time. I'm also very picky with shipping in general and i want everyone to know that the MAIN ship on this blog is kazuren and that means that most of my attention goes towards them... which is pretty obvious if you look at the rest of my blog ^^;;;; i hope this answered your question anon :D!!

[fushitoru]

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

[deoidesign]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder on top of him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?"

a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[ofbatsandballads]

Based on that little blurb you reblogged can I request the batfamily finding out that Jason has a girlfriend by him rummaging through the stuff in his pockets?

They're like dang dude what do you have in there? and it's all hair ties, lip stick, and a recipe for two 💕

-🍬

oh I love a good “Jason hides his lover from his family only for it to get revealed dramatically” fic and now thanks to you, nonnie, I get to write one!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include canon typical injuries, sibling violence, and slight hints at the batfam’s more traumatic interactions. this is mostly a good ol’ batfam fic, because reader is only alluded to, but I really like it. sorry I made it angsty for a sec there, I just can’t resist the Dynamics™️.

Jason should’ve known better. Really, he should’ve. Taking on Killer Croc alone? A fool’s mistake, but he was just too stubborn to say yes when Bruce asked if he’d like some backup. So now here he is, loopy in the Batcave after Waylon absolutely rocked his shit.

“‘S not even that bad,” he slurs.

The fact that he trips on his own feet and nearly faceplants before Bruce catches him says otherwise.

“Sure it’s not, Jaylad. Let’s get you to the medbay,” Bruce grumbles, worry creeping into that stone cold exterior.

“I’m fine, old man. Lemme jus’ go home,” Jason whines.

He’s met with a grunt that firmly negates his request.

“You can stay in your room tonight,” Bruce says.

“Not my home. Wanna go home,” Jason mumbles as he drops onto the medbay bed.

If Bruce’s face drops a bit, if guilt and sorrow flash across his eyes? Well, Jason’s too concussed to notice. Bruce just nods and begins to assess any other injuries Croc may have left on him. When he reaches for the collar of the Kevlar top, Jason flinches away from him so hard that he slams into the wall behind him. It’s only when Bruce realizes that he’d brushed his fingers against the scar on Jason’s neck that he realizes why. His heart sinks and he can’t even look at his son. His shame doubles when he hears a trademark sigh of disappointment from behind him.

“C’mon, Littlewing. Let’s get all of this off you,” Dick says gently as he pushes past their father.

Jason doesn’t flinch when Dick starts to remove his gear. In fact, the presence of his older brother sets him at ease.

“I told ‘im I had it covered, Dickie. He didn’t fuckin’ listen,” Jason complains.

“Yeah, had it so covered you’re concussed in the family home?” Dick teases.

“What the fuck, Richard?” Jason groans before breaking out into giggles.

“How hard did Waylon hit him?” Dick jokingly asks Bruce.

“There’s no fractures, but the contusions are appearing rapidly. Jason’s lucky that’s all he got.”

Dick stares blankly at Bruce. He goes to open his mouth to retort that he was kidding, then decides it’s not worth his effort. Tim thinks it is, though.

“Wow, for a guy that’s chronically online for vigilante reasons, you still know nothing about the internet,” Tim laughs as he wanders into the medbay and flops down on the bed next to Jason’s.

Bruce ignores the teasing and catalogs all the injuries that are revealed to him as Dick strips away Jason’s tattered gear. There’s plenty of lacerations on his torso and likely some on his back. A few are deeper but nothing they’ll need to call Leslie for.

“Or maybe your jokes just aren’t funny, Timothy” Damian says haughtily as he sits himself next to Jason.

The thirteen-year-old tries to put on a mask of indifference, but it wavers when he spots the gash on the back of Jason’s right shoulder.

“Akhi, in what world did you think apprehending Waylon Jones alone would go well for you?” Damian scolds.

Jason narrows his seafoam eyes at Damian and lowers his voice.

“Ya really wanna talk about apprehending people alone, demon spawn?” he taunts lightly.

Damian’s eyes widen and he drops the subject because no, he actually does not want to talk about that on account of the fact that he tried to bring in Clayface alone two weeks ago and nearly got immortalized as a clay statue until Jason swooped in. The two of them had scrubbed his Robin suit within an inch of its life to try and hide the excursion from Bruce. It worked; only Alfred noticed the faint hint of clay in the threads of the cape and all he’d done was sigh and shake his head.

Jason’s gear is fully removed and his head is starting to clear a bit, wooziness replaced by a hammering pain in his temples. The headache masks any pain he would feel from the stitches being placed in his back, though he also suspects that those are less painful because Damian is doing them.

“Your technique is gettin’ better, y’know?” Jason whispers, the compliment unheard by the other three men bustling around the room.

The hands stitching him up freeze and he can imagine the look of surprise on Damian’s face even without turning around.

“Thank you,” he mutters. “I think it will be useful for future endeavors.”

Jason smiles to himself. He knows the kid wants to be a doctor, and he thinks it’s a damn better fate for him than whatever Bruce or Ra’s could’ve planned. The silence that settles over the medbay is peaceful, only broken by the sound of clacking computer keys or the zipping of evidence bags. Then, like an unholy boom of thunder, comes the voice of Tim Drake.

“What the hell is all this?”

Jason’s head whips to the side and he sees Tim rummaging through the pockets of his tactical pants. He goes to scramble off the bed and feels the harsh pull of thread that was mid-stitch through his skin.

“Mind your fuckin’ business, replacement!” Jason shouts.

He grabs a pillow and chucks it at Tim’s head, but he just ducks and continues to empty Jason’s pockets. The contents that spill out on the sterile tray are…perplexing to say the least. Two lip balms (one tinted red), three scrunchies (one black and two red), a grocery list with the word strawberries and a woman’s name underlined, a recipe for chicken stir fry with enough for two portions, and one single soft chocolate chip cookie lay unexplained in the harsh white light of the medbay.

If looks could kill, Tim Drake would be dead and buried six feet under.

“What part of mind your fuckin’ business did you not get?” Jason growls, glaring daggers at the nineteen-year-old.

“Holy shit, he’s got a fucking girlfriend!” Tim exclaims.

The pillow hits him square in the face this time. All four sets of eyes turn to him with varying emotions. Shock is evident in the forest green of Damian’s gaze, smugness and vindication in the icy blue of Tim’s, panic and guilt in the ocean blue of Dick’s, and some weird mix of sadness and fondness in the gunmetal blue of Bruce’s eyes that Jason doesn’t want to think about for too long. The acrobat quickly moves across the room and sweeps all the belongings off the tray and back into the pockets of the tac pants. He grabs Jason’s gear from Tim and hands it back to its rightful owner, who clutches it to himself protectively.

“Don’t make assumptions, Tim,” Dick says. “Civilians leave stuff on us all the time.”

It’s true. They’ve all come home with someone’s forgotten work badge or piece of jewelry before. The oddest thing was when Bruce had a Hello Kitty keychain stuck to the end of his cape. Jason casts a subtle look of gratitude at Dick for trying to give him plausible deniability. Not that it works. Tim stares not at Dick, but through him with his pale eyes in a way that makes a chill run down the spine of the eldest son.

“You knew already? How?” Tim asks incredulously.

Really, he’s a bit miffed that he hadn’t figured this out already. He has contingency plan files on each member of his family (himself included) and he had not a clue that Jason might be in a relationship.

“Drop. It. Now.” Jason warns.

Tim doesn’t consider it until he sees Jason’s fingers twitching in the direction of the butterfly knife on his belt. He doesn’t need another scar from Jason shanking him. Well, at least not today.

“Fine. Whatever. But if I have to bring Bernard here for Thanksgiving, then you have to bring,” and he pauses to remember and recite the name on the grocery list, “home too.”

He knows he’s pushed it when Jason lunges at him, dragging Damian and a threaded suturing needle behind him. Tim barely jumps out of the way in time to avoid a punch to the jaw.

“Robin! Knock it off!” Bruce barks.

It’s almost comical the way all four of his boys freeze in place. It is slightly less comical the way they all proceed to glare at him.

“Fuck it,” Jason grumbles as he settles back on the bed for Damian to continue stitching his wounds. “Just get these done so I can go home.”

“Home to his girlfriend,” Tim murmurs.

“I will fuckin’ slash your throat again, you second-rate fuck!”

Bruce lets out one long suffering sigh. He doesn’t know you yet (a quiet part of him hopes he may one day be allowed to) but he already feels sorry that you’ve been roped into all of this. He feels even more sorry when the butterfly knife flies past his head and buries itself into the wall inches from Tim’s neck. Really, what is he going to do with these boys?

[itsraceweekbitches]

NAPKIN CONTRACTS

summary: You and Charles signed a contract as kids to get married at the age of 28 in case you’re both single. Charles makes a joke, but his messages with you get leaked and now everyone believes you’re getting married for real. Luckily, Max comes to the rescue. ✤ pairing: Max Verstappen x reader ✤ wc: 2.3k ✤ tags: fem!reader, childhood promises, marriage talks, fake relationship

215 days left until our 🎂 & 💍!

It’s supposed to be a simple, harmless countdown to your birthday, a happy and exciting celebration, but that ring emoji at the end equals a vicious threat in your mind. 

The whole thing began fifteen years ago, when you and Charles were playing video games in his room during one of your family’s annual extended stay in Monaco. He told you about a movie he saw, where the main characters made a promise to get married if they’re both alone when they’re thirty. 

“I wouldn’t wait that long, though. Thirty is… meh, every movie uses that age,” he began the explanation with a roll of his eyes. “Twenty-nine is too close. Twenty-eight, though–that’s good.”

All you managed to say was a confused “Huh?” before he paused the game and jumped up to run out of the room. After only a minute or two, he returned with two napkins that he put on his desk, then picked out a pen from the drawer.

When you walked over to him to see what he was doing, he glanced up at you with a grin. “I’m writing a contract. If neither of us is married when we turn twenty-eight, we get married,” he stated as if it was something you had both agreed to do.

But you hadn’t, you only listened to his train of thought when he picked the age. “Why on a napkin?” you asked curiously as you looked over his shoulder.

Charles let out a quiet chuckle as he shrugged. “That was the first thing I found.”

You signed it, believing it was nothing more but a game. 

Yet, a decade and a half later, here you are in Australia, looking at the countdown he has just sent you. Sure, there have been occasional jokes about this agreement after breakups, but now it seems to be more than just a joke.

It’s more like a promise. 

Being born on the same day, in the same hospital, brought your families together, and it inevitably led to the two of you becoming best friends. Whenever you were in the same city, you were inseparable, and your close friendship often raised questions about whether or not there was more to the story. 

The internet was full of articles, social media posts and edits that tried to prove the two of you were together, but you both learned to ignore them for your mental health’s sake. At first, of course, his team tried to stop the rumors, but then you just simply gave up. 

A loud banging on your door snaps you out of your thoughts, and your watch begins to vibrate on your wrist too, telling you Charles is calling. With a groan, you pick up your phone and accept the call.

“Geez, calm down, I’m coming,” you tell him with an exasperated sigh.

You jump off the couch and put the device on the coffee table before heading to the door. It’s free practice day, but you weren’t planning on going to the track just yet, the deal was a visit on Sunday. 

The only reason why you came to Australia was to talk to Nicole, who you had met at a race last year. She’s funny, the mother of your best friend’s jokingly-adopted child, it’s only natural to try and be friends with her. 

Before you can open the door, your watch notifies you of another call from Charles, which makes you wonder what’s so important. The moment you open the door, you take a deep breath and start a speech about how he should learn to be patient at his age.

But it’s not Charles that’s standing in the door. It’s a very confused-looking Max. 

“Mmm, okay?” he says slowly. “What did Charles do this time?” 

With a groan, you step aside to let him in. Since he and your best friend get along, you don’t have to pretend like you hated him too, but before that, you followed the Monegasque’s lead in this matter whenever they didn’t get along. Well, officially. Unofficially you’ve been friends with Max since your teenage years without a break.

He climbs over the back of the couch to sit down, then turns to you with a grin you can’t really place. “The countdown?” he suddenly asks.

When you hear his question, you’re mortified, because you definitely did not want anyone to know about your silly little agreement. Once you sit down too, you rest your elbows on your thighs and bury your face into your hands,

“Okay, it is about the countdown,” Max begins, dragging out each word as if he had to think about what to say. “Hey, just because you made some promise as kids, and because you both happen to be single in the year of the deadline–”

“You know about the deal?! How?”

Letting out a laugh, Max nonchalantly waves with his hand. “He told me when we were drunk at a party, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that maybe it’s not such a bad thing. You have absolutely no luck when it comes to relationships, he’s also been single for a good month now,” he explains. 

“Wow, thanks. So?”

“So, you might as well double down and get married sooner,” he suggests with a shrug. A shrug that’s a little too casual to your liking. 

You want to respond, you want to say something—anything, really—but no words come to your mind. You definitely do not want to marry your best friend, it would be too weird, too cliché, yet you have absolutely no idea how to tell him that if he’s serious. 

Meanwhile the always observant Max notices your hesitation and puts the puzzle pieces together. “You don’t want to do it,” he says flatly, his head slightly tilted to the side as he watches you. 

When you nod, he lets out a sigh and leans back and rests his arm on the back of the couch.

“Look, I was just teasing you with the idea of getting married right now. If you ask me, that deal is more like a joke, I’m sure Charles isn’t serious about getting married. He’s just messing with you.”

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, absolutely. But if you’d rather avoid him just to be sure, or you feel like staying away from him, you know you’re always welcome at RBR,” he says with a warm smile.

Drawing in a deep breath, you lean back too and look at the ceiling. You probably just overreacted, that’s all. 

Charles doesn’t want to get married anytime soon, he said it himself last year when he was still in a serious relationship, so nothing pointed in the direction of a change of his mind.

Maybe Max is onto something with that avoiding him solution, maybe some time is what you need to let the panic go. Because you did start to spiral at the thought, which usually didn’t happen to you.

The comfortable silence between you is interrupted by a knock on the door, and you both turn around to look in that direction, as if you could see through the wood. Not a cell in your body is ready to talk to yet another human being, in fact you’re thinking about gently asking Max to leave too. 

But the knocking is followed by the notifications of an incoming call, and Charles’s name flashes on the screens. You let out a tired sigh, which is followed by a thoughtful hum from Max. 

“You’re not gonna answer? He’s probably the one knocking,” he says eventually. 

“Maybe I should,” you respond, yet you can’t get yourself to move.

Rolling his eyes, Max decides to take matters into his own hands and walks over to the door himself. You hear a hushed conversation, but you can’t make out the words, although you can imagine what it’s about.

And sure enough, you can see Charles shake his head as he mutters something under his breath before heading inside. “That was supposed to be a joke, don’t worry,” he announces while he walks around the couch to stand in front of you. 

Meanwhile Max caught up with him and stopped on his side. “That’s exactly what I told her.” You give him a pointed look that draws an exasperated sigh out of him. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look.”

“It’s a good joke if it stays between us, but if you keep telling about this to random people you meet—”

“Random?” Max scoffs with his hands on his hips. “Thanks.”

“How do we know who else he told this about? Does Pierre know?” you ask, turning to your best friend.

Charles nods in response, but it’s painfully obvious that the accusation hurt him. “But he’s the only one. Beside Max, obviously. And maybe Lorenzo also knows. He found the contract back in the day,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

There’s nothing you could say to that, so you blow out the air you’ve been holding, then lean your head back to look at the ceiling. “Anyone else?” He holds up his hand in an attempt to prove to you he swears there’s no one else. “Good.”

“Buuuuuut—” 

This elongated but grabs your attention immediately, because he usually says it this way when there’s something you definitely do not want to hear. So, you look back at him with a questioning look, your fingertips nervously tapping on your thighs.

“Well, maybe you should see this,” he begins as he opens an app on his phone, then hands the device to you. 

You look into his green eyes, waiting to hear some kind of hint to know what this is about, but he says nothing, only tears his gaze away. With a sigh, you look down at the screen and your brain stops functioning for a second when you read the title of the article. 

CHARLES LECLERC’S SECRET COUNTDOWN

Oh, fuck. 

The article is about what you expected it to be. In a leaked chat conversation Ferrari’s golden boy sent a countdown to his best friend—you, obviously—and the end date is their shared birthday. And what makes it so special is the ring emoji at the end of the event’s name, followed by a message that explicitly says he’s excited and can’t wait.

So, long story short, Charles and you will get married according to this gossip site. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t the kind that’s usually reliable. 

“How bad is it?” you hesitantly ask as you give him back the device.

Charles lets out a low, humming sound. “It spread like wildfire,” he then admits. When he sees the mortified look on your face, he sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “My team is already working on a way to fix this.”

You don’t say anything, mostly because you have absolutely no idea what you could possibly say in this situation. Meanwhile Max snatches the still unlocked phone from Charles’ hand to take a look at the article he has just shown you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that shit-eating grin on his face that always annoyed you. “What’s so funny?” you ask him.

Finally, he sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, and casually throws the phone to Charles before speaking up. “You have no choice but to spend the weekend with me,” he announces. 

“Ooooor, I’m not going at all. I’ll order some snacks and watch the race from here.”

“What? No,” your best friend protests immediately. “I mean, we want to discuss what to do now.”

Max lets out a laugh, seemingly enjoying this way too much. But the laughter is clearly meant for Charles, and your suspicion is confirmed when he speaks up. “What’s there to talk about? We all know you and Alex got back together like… two weeks after the breakup. You’re taken, mate.”

When you look at your friend in disbelief, you see him shake his head with a pained groan. “Thanks, she didn’t know,” he admits before turning to you. “Listen, I didn’t know how to tell you. I know you like her, but I guess I was afraid I’d screw it up again. I didn’t need a speech.”

“Awkward,” Max mutters as he tears his gaze away to look at the TV on the wall.

Both you and Charles give him a pointed look at this, then you turn back to explain to the Monegasque that you would have been happy to be there if he ever had doubts. You’re not scolding him, you’re just being nice. 

Once you both fall silent, Max lets out a sigh. “Do you have a recent photo with Alex?” he asks, earning a nod in response. “Ask her if you can post it, then post it. And you,” he begins as he turns to you, “need a boyfriend. It can be a fake relationship, and you know what? I volunteer.”

“What?” you and Charles ask in unison.

That you weren’t expecting. A fake relationship with Max? This would be big. Like, social media would explode in seconds, kind of big. You’re not sure if you would be ready for something like this.

Seeing your hesitation, he decides to explain the plan. “We will break up after your birthday. Or not, maybe by that time there will be a real proposal,” he adds with a grin and a wink.

“God, no,” you protest, and he makes a face of exaggerated hurt. “Max, this is sweet and nice, but I can’t do this.”

He shrugs. “It’s your decision, but think it through. There’s no other way.”

The boys leave eventually to head to the track, while you stay behind to think. As painful as it is to admit it, reading the comments and posts only make you realize that Max was onto something. There’s no other way. You have to start a fake relationship with him.

Well, fuck. 

That wasn’t part of the plan for this year. 

note: Thanks for reading. I wanted to keep a kinda open ending for two reasons. One, I want everyone to have their own version of the ending. Two, I have absolutely no idea how this fake relationship would end (breakup? engagement?)

[xazse]

I don’t know about the anon but I freaked out when I saw the new fic. It was so good 🤤. I love how you’re giving us so much content nowadays and I’m here for it! Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could figure something out for snow leopard Gojo and cat hybrid reader (him as a cat jest feels right) ? Imagine Satoru having this in mind ever since he saw you, I mean, big cats mate practically for the solo reason of breeding ?and he's no different- having many pups is a necessity to prove you're his and the best way to show how much he adores you! He’d be very protective about you while you’re carrying, never stepping away from your side and he’s become so needy too because you smell so divine with all those hormones to him.

It makes me think back to that kitty tiger fic where he would lick her and I see this as a continuation of short!

Well, not really since I mentioned a leopard but honestly if you did a tiger and really wrote it as a continuation l'd be thrilled. Do you think you’ll write more because I’d love some Satoru tiger/leopard fics. Have a nice day lovely 💕

Notes: SORRY ITS SO SHORT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I HAD FUN WRITING IT!!

Warnings: Pantysniffing + breeding + hybrids + little hybrids + pregnancy + overprotective!Satoru

Pairings: SnowLeopardSatoru + KittyHybrid!Reader

Oh yes of course SnowLeopard!Satoru was in love the day Suguru brought you home, you smelled of that icky place but eventually when you got comfortable he began cleaning you of that filthy, licking you everywhere to ensure you smelled exactly like him.

After scenting you to smell just like the touching started, it starts small with Satoru laying you in his lap or letting you stroke his hair until it got even more physical he was having you bent over balls deep inside of you, this became a daily occurrence where he’d pump you full load after load.

The leopard loved you so much, of course when you started showing signs of morning sickness he was so damn excited, well when he had said that you gave him the nastiest look ever but he had to phrase it as he was excited for the baby!

The first few months were absolute hell for you, Satoru could not and would not leave you alone, he insisted mining everything and anything with you.

You needed a shower? He’s in there helping you get in places your cute little belly prevents even in public he’s always making sure your near him, he keeps a tight grip on your arm so he doesn’t lose you.

He also keeps close because you smell, so fucking good, it drives him damn insane, he keeps you in his lap for hours just sniffing your neck or even having your legs wrapped around his head so he can smell your cunt.

He loves getting into your dirty laundry and smelling your panties, who cares if you catch him jerking off with it around his fat cock, he’ll look you dead in your face as you slowly close the door to let him have that privacy, he can’t fuck your pussy like he used to anymore so this’ll do.

When the babies come it’s so hectic around the house, you and Satoru are constantly chasing the little ones around, they don’t give either of you a break some days. It’s so cute to see how they look exactly like Satoru in some ways, two of them have his hair and the third one looks exactly like you, a carbon copy is what she is.

Their little ears and tail swish behind them so freaking cute, the amount of photos Satoru has in his phone is astonishing, he also posts them on his instagram always, everytime, Suguru also does his hair share with helping with them when you and Satoru are stressed. He’s like their uncle and it’s so adorable to see them braiding his hair or him reading to them.

When you finally get alone time, Satoru’s fucking you like he wants to put even more babies in you, the way he’s groaning is so damn loud it pairs with the way you sound when both of you meet in the middle, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t fucking back on him just as hard, it’s already been multiple orgasms and you’re both still going at it.

[elizzsush]

Fae Courting Rituals | TWST

Diasomnia Dorm X Reader

Lilia X Reader, Sebek X Reader, Malleus X Reader, Silver X Reader

---- Fae are typically taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 3/3)

Note: Was going To add silver to this list. (I know he isn't a fae, but he was raised by one) but was too tired to write for him)

Savanaclaw Ver. | Octavinelle Ver

Sebek:

He starts following you around for some reason.

Seriously, one day he just woke up and decided to not leave you alone. It helped that you guys shared a bundle of classes together.

You had no clue how you befriended the green hair boy. You weren't complaining though, in this school, where everyone is so set in their ways, you liked having the extra layer of protection that was the loud half fae: Sebek.

He was loud and denies it however, whenever you point out he follows you. He claims to not having even realized he was doing such a thing. "I would never follow around a mere human!" He shouted out his claims with a red face.

It could be true. He did get somewhat spacy sometimes if you'd believe it.

He had a packed schedule, or so he claimed, yet he always found time to be around you. It made a warm feeling blossom in your chest, well, of course before he used this time to rant about Malleus. "Wakasama is the most kind and fit ruler of-" He'd ramble, you'd sigh; put your face in your hand and lean a bit closer to him. You enjoyed hearing him so passionate, even if it was... constant.

He didn't have an off switch, that didn't have to be a bad thing.

Plush, you didn't hate his voice. Not that you'd be as loud about your likes as he was for his.

Though you were pretty positive your friends... and most of the students at NRC were in fact sick of his voice. People have also noticed he is more vocal around you.

Which is… a good thing?

The oddest thing happened once. At one point when the two of you were relaxing in ramshackle. A bag of popcorn and a shitty TV you got on sale at Sam's shop. He wasn't being loud for once in his life, instead his attention was focused on the screen.

You two were sitting pretty close together when, he had grabbed your hand and laid his head on yours. Was he... cuddling you?

You couldn't help but smile and continue to watch the movie. You didn't want to comment on it, you knew if you did, he'd probably get up, make a huge deal out of it (with a red face), and leave.

He started rubbing his forehead against yours before he finally pulled away like it never happened. It was oddly affectionate.

You didn't even think he knew that he was doing it.

He began to do these affectionate things while he was focused on something else. Either it be a show at the movie nights you organized with him, or if he was studying a bit to hard with you.

Your friends wondered how you even managed a movie night with the loud boy but you just shrugged.

Eventually, you had to face it: You really like Sebek.

You really liked this brash boy with a thick skull.

You knew however, even if he did like you back. He'd never admit it, let alone go out with you.

It left you with this odd feeling. A dull pain that ranged from a small ache to feeling like Throns were wrapping around your heart, piercing the organ in your chest.

You tried not to let that get you too down. Instead, you watched him across the lunchroom as subconsciously he blew bubbles into his drink, his green eyes finding yours...

So yes, you'd listen to his rants. You'd go out of your way to hang out with him, you'd enjoy his company while you could.

Because you knew, sooner or later, he'd realize it too. The same reality you had to face. And...

well...

He wouldn't face it.

He'd probably turn you away and never speak to you again. And you'd be fine with that. Even if you didn't want to be because you...

Well, let's save that for another day.. "Hey Sebek, lets hang out!"

"I suppose I can make time for you, Human!"

Lilia:

He was out to get you.

You noticed it. Almost everybody noticed it. You just didn't know what you did to him! He'd pop up everywhere and scare you! Right before disappearing away.

This counted as bullying, right?

You were starting to get... slightly paranoid.

You enjoyed Lilia's company, you really did. But you were tired of constantly looking over your shoulder. So, you started to avoid him, just a bit.

Your own personal revenge for the paranoia.

Now, Lilia has lived a long life. He knows what he's doing and is just having fun. He liked you, he did, but he probably isn't going to be that serious about this. He's in it for the vibes.

So when he see's you avoiding him... he well... He serenades you from outside ramshackle.

He makes his intentions very clear with a love song!

A boombox in Sebek's hand, and a tired Silver who followed along because... well Lilia was making Sebek hold a bomb box and traveling in your direction.

Lilia song his heart out for you. "Everybody loves somebody sometime!~ And although my dream was-"

"It is 2am!! The perfect will go out with you tomorrow!" Grim shouted out the window with a grogy done with it tone. After you threw a pillow at them.

NOTE: Sorry this one is short but I have a hard time writing for Lilia

Malleus:

What do you mean? You started courting him first. Very brave of you indeed child of man. He had even commented on it while you handed a piece of treasure!

That was... well, it was a cheap polished rock. It was well... shiny...?

It started very small. He accepted your gift and was expecting a bit more to be honest. Not even he was exactly sure how this courting would work out; he was prepared to be the one to pursue you!

Initially, he sat back and relaxed. Enjoyed the small sense of harmony you two already had and assumed you guys were dating.

Why would he not? He accepted your courting gift, he assumed their were more to come, the next step up to this would be marriage and he wasn’t sure you were ready for that.

However, you noticed this. You were so confused. He’d began to call you “beloved.” Which was a 180.

When did you two…? Huh??

He’s also been more clingy. Not on the sense he’d follow you around but in the sense of a mountain of handwritten letters and the actual sense that he’s in your personal space when you two do hang out.

So… the two of you are just dating now? “Beloved, you haven’t been responding to my letters. Did I do something?”

“Oh, sorry I just haven’t… quite finished all of them.” You glanced at a room that was empty at one time. Now it held a pile of letters.

This was an exaggeration, they’re were a lot but not a whole room full… yet.

Extra??? Silver:

It started like most seedlings of love, with a dream. A simple one, you were sat beside him, the two of you quiet and happy in each others company. The birds sang as you hummed beside him. The boy was content, more so then he had been in his life.

Then, like it was second nature to both of you. You two shared a kiss, and then he woke up.

Usually, he tried not to lose himself to sleep. But tonight all he wanted was to go back to the dream world and hold you. As soon as the realization crossed his mind however, he woke up even more. Had he ever been this awake? “Am I in love…?”

He, not knowing what to do. Went to Lilia, whom was enthusiastic with this news.

You know when parents find out their four year old has a crush? That’s Lilia, except Silver isn’t four. Every time they see you Lilia shoos Silver off too hang out with you. Sadly, with no prior love life to speak of, silver goes along with it.

Though he is embarrassed about it, he hides it well enough.

“Does Lilia think you like me?” You asked all to happily once, hiding your own happiness behind a giggle at the absurd situation he found himself in.

“Uh, yeah…” he’d just smile at you, his head laying on the lunch table as he was about to go to sleep. he loved to see you laugh even if it was somewhat at his expense. However, Sleep tends to escape him when he was near you. Not that he didn’t feel tired, but he didn’t feel as tired. He couldn’t feel angry about it, in fact he was happy about this. It was like you were some temporary cures for his illness.

Lilia would also insist that Silver gift you things. To show he can provide for you, the Silver hair male couldn’t disagree. So, he’d find things that might fancy you.

His bird and squirrel friends also helped him in his venture to gain your affection. Often leaving flowers at your doorstep and small shiny things.

One day you saw the birds and Squirrels run up to your doorstep, one flower at a time, make a gorgeous bouquet.

You made sure to thank him and his animal friends after that.

In return you'd try and make things for him, find things around he or the animals would like. Nuts for squirrels, seeds for the birds, and a deep red rose you plucked from Heartslabyul during the end of an unbirthday party.

He stayed awake for longer than he ever had that night, staring up at the rose in the dark while his dormmate slept. A smile on his lips as he examined every detail of it.

Ace would call it cheesy. The relationship between the two of you was something out of a romance movie he'd say in a more teasing way. Something like, "Is it Tuesday or Wednesday he's going to chase after you to an airport?" and then roll his eyes. You tell Ace to shut up while looking away with a face as red as riddle's hair.

It was after a test, you pulled your test paper out of your bag ready to check your score after preparing for disappointment when a blue bird swopped down and took it!

You cursed and chased after the bird, rushing past students and looking crazy, eventually you ended up in the forest next to the school.

You were sure you looked ever crazier than you had been running in the school halls, because now you had leaves in your hair, and your shoes were all muddy now...

Eventually, the birds placed the test paper, face down on a certain boy's chest. "Silver... Are you asleep?" You smiled and knelt beside him, a small smile on your face. Rolling your eyes at the perpetually sleeping boy. You sat beside him for a moment taking a deep breath before you grabbed your test.

You almost preferred it this way, to have him here, even if he wasn't fully here. It helped your nerves somewhat. An even bigger smile graced your face as you turned the paper, and a large B was printed at the top.

Standing up, you gifted your friend a small kiss on his forehead and wandered off back to school.

Well, you were stopped by a small, sleepy voice. "Y/N...?"

___________________________

Note: It was this or clean my depression room... Anyway, I want to expand on Sebek's small scenario because I know if it was its own imagine I could make it really good.

Would ya'll enjoy that...?

ANYWAY, these small series is competed! (Unless...?) Thank you for reading them and thanks for reading the note. Not a lot of people do that. Myself included.

I have a hard time writing for Diasomnia...