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toournextadventure · 2 years ago

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everyone but her pt.20

Summary: Grief comes in many different forms and stages. You're stuck on anger, and Wednesday accompanies you to the funeral. But she says something wrong, with the best of intentions, and you end up doing something that will change your family dynamic for the worse.

Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: grief, child abuse, self neglect (not eating, recklessness, not taking care of self, excessive drinking), extreme anger, flashbacks (mentions of car accident, injuries, illusions to criminal activity), swearing, violence, smoking Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

Everyone says grief comes in five stages; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But you disagree. It’s not five stages, it’s one. Only one stage that washes over you like a wave and holds you under until you’re drowning. You’re drowning and watching everyone on the surface live their lives as if you aren’t just right underneath them, choking on the salty sea water as you scream for help.

It’s only one stage; agony.

The house was bigger than you remembered when you got home far too early in the morning. The barristers were cleaner, the kitchen was far more pristine, and it was quiet. It was far too quiet, and your hands started to go clammy at the revelation. There wasn’t even any comfort in the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Tick-tocks burned themselves into your brain until it was stabbing into your head like a knife.

You started humming a tuneless song. It eased the pain slightly.

"Don't hum, dear," your mother said as she took her gloves off and handed them to your maid and previous nanny, Mabel. "It's childish."

Your humming died off and the silence came back.

"Mabel will show you to your room,” your father said, resting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. For a moment, things almost seemed okay. “We will mourn tomorrow, then start the preparations.”

And just like that everything came crashing down once again. Paired perfectly with the migraine that still refused to settle.

“Oh, Y/N,” your father called out before you managed to get more than three steps up.

You turned around slowly, each joint still aching from the fall earlier in the night. Was it that same night? It felt so long ago. Nothing felt like you had been on a carnival date earlier in the night, that you had been having fun with Wednesday and the gang less than eight hours ago. Or was it longer than that? Did it even matter anymore?

“Your principal wanted you to have your phone back,” he continued when you stayed silent. He smiled softly down at the phone in his hands before looking up and handing it back. “Your conversations are a bit concerning,” he said when your fingers brushed his to take it back. “I installed a program to track your activity.” You blinked once. “For your well-being.”

For my well-being. Right. Of course.

“You have a few unread messages,” your father called after you as you turned to walk back up the stairs. “You should let them know everything is alright.”

Be angry, a voice in the back of your head growled when Mabel continued to guide you through the now-unfamiliar corridors. It was a familiar voice, one that hadn’t reared its head in months, but you couldn’t quite place it. He went through your phone, so you need to get angry. No. No, you wouldn’t get angry. Why not? Your jaw clenched painfully. Nicky wouldn’t have gotten angry.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in the doorway of the room - your room - and looked sideways at Mabel. She looked older, more worn. Maybe it was just from working for your parents for so long. How was her son? Had he graduated college yet? He had wanted to be an engineer, if you remembered right. Why did she look so sad?

“I am truly sorry,” she said softly. “I cannot imagine your grief.”

No. No, she couldn’t imagine your grief. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to see him not even a week earlier, alive, and not knowing it would be the last time you saw him. She couldn’t fucking imagine what it was like and no one could fucking imagine what it was like.

The migraine throbbed again and you squeezed your eyes shut to try and ease it.

“The headaches will stop in time,” she said. Your eyes flew open. “They always have.”

“What?”

Mabel tilted her head and a crinkle formed between her eyes.

“Your headaches,” she said, her finger lifting to tap lightly against your left temple. “They always got worse when Nicky stopped suppressing.”

“Suppressing?”

Her sorrowful smile slipped into a frown.

"Yes," she said softly, "don't you remember?"

No.

"Well, I suppose that would defeat the point," she chuckled lightly. "He could suppress memories," she explained softly, gently, agonisingly. "He always chose the bad ones, of course."

No.

"I myself got a slight headache when he passed."

No.

"It's how I knew he was truly gone."

No!

"Y/N?"

You shoved past Mabel, forcing her back into the hall. The stairs passed under you four at a time until you were on the ground floor.

"Darling?-"

"-Where are you going?-"

"-It's 4 in the morning-"

"-Get back in the house."

Your parents' calls fell on deaf ears as you threw the front door open and stormed outside. Your feet picked up speed as you walked down the endless driveway. The moment they hit the pavement you broke out into a jog, then a sprint. Your shoes hit the pavement of the road in a steady rhythm.

"You really wanna know?" Nicky asked after taking another one of your chess pieces.

"You promised you would tell me," you said with a frown.

"How about I make it your graduation present," he teased. "Give you something to look forward to."

"Deal," you said with a smile. He knocked your king off the board.

The excessively large houses blurred as you ran down the street. Motion lights turned on and guard dogs barked when you passed by.

"That was the year they left us to fend for ourselves for the week," Nicky laughed with Yoko.

"I don't remember that," you said with a slight frown.

"You were, uh, too young," Nicky said with a smile and a pat on your back. "Not worth remembering anyway."

The houses thinned and were quickly replaced with trees. Your feet stumbled as pavement turned into dirt. Icy air froze your tired lungs, leaving a sensation of needles in your chest.

You pushed your feet faster.

"Nicky, I'm tired," you whined after tripping over your own feet again.

"Just a few more hours," he said. His shirt had finally dried and looked stiff. “Then we’ll be back at Nevermore.”

"You said that a few hours ago," you complained. "My skin is itchy."

"We'll wash it off later," he said. He wasn't even looking at you.

"Are they gonna find us?" You asked as you did a little jog to catch up to him and hold his hand.

"No," he said without hesitation. The dried blood was starting to flake off his forehead. The cut on his nose looked angry.

"Is this gonna give me bad dreams?" You asked in a small voice. He stopped in his tracks and picked you up, letting you crawl onto his back.

"Of course not," he said softly. "You won't even remember it."

The forest flew by. Each twig and branch that whipped across your face made you feel more and more alive. It was a feeling, and you needed a feeling. Anything, everything, whatever you could get.

Everything hurt. Oh god, it hurt so bad and you couldn’t scream.

“Hang on, kid, we’ve gotta get the door.”

“Where’s Nicky?” You asked. Your tongue felt heavy, like lead.

“Gotta get you first,” a man’s voice said. “Stay still.”

“Nicky?” You slurred; the words tasted of copper.

Your eyes fell to the top of the car that was now underneath you. It was covered in something shiny. Something red.

Your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t take the cold, couldn’t take the exertion, the stress, none of it. And it felt. You could feel them. The more you ran, the more it hurt and soon you could focus on the pain in your side instead of the pain in your head.

Memory suppression.

There was no thought about stopping, your feet just slowed their movements until you collapsed to your knees on the cold, damp forest floor. You felt the end of a stick dig into your hand, splitting the skin. The blood was warm; it was comforting. Each gasping breath felt like you were inhaling shards of glass, each one more painful than the last.

And it felt.

“I feel angry,” you said as you sat at the top of the wall and watched Nicky continue to climb.

“You always feel angry,” he grunted. He was stuck. As usual.

“I don’t know why,” you sighed. “I can’t think of anything that would make me angry.”

“It’ll go away,” he said as his face finally pulled up and you could look him in the eyes. “Good kids don’t stay angry.”

“Am I a good kid?” You asked softly. He smiled.

“The best.”

You let out the most feral, unhinged, excruciating scream you could possibly produce. It hurt your throat and left it feeling raw.

But it felt.

The sun had started to rise before you could get up from your position on the ground. Your knees were stiff and soaked to the bone and the stick in your hand had broken off. It would leave a splinter that would need to be dug out. There was a lingering ache in your throat and lungs and that migraine still wouldn’t go away. And when you started walking mindlessly back to the house, you could feel blisters on your feet and heels; a few of them even popped.

But at least it felt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?-”

“-We were about to call the police-”

“-You look like a stray dog-”

“-We just cleaned the entry-”

“-Where do you think you’re going?”

You couldn’t recall getting home. But you continued walking through the house as your parents called after you, practically dragging yourself up the stairs until you made it into your room. The door fell shut and the lock clicked into place and all you could do was fall back to your knees.

The cold wooden floor didn’t feel so bad. At least it felt.

—---

You wished you were numb again.

The day of mourning came and went, each second testing your patience and wearing you thin. You hadn’t slept, hadn’t showered, hadn’t even gotten up from your spot on the floor. You could hear your phone vibrating on the wood, almost loud enough to wake the dead. Maybe it would wake Nicky, you thought before finally checking it to make it stop.

Not even noon and you had 17 missed calls, 72 texts, and a plethora of messages from the vast array of other social media outlets. A large number were from Yoko, then Ajax, the rest of the group, and your family back home. Two or three calls from Momma Weems and your family. But your eyes started to sting when you saw the name for two messages.

Nicky.

You clicked on them immediately, desperately hoping to see what he had said. Something in the back of your head was screaming at you not to open them, not to get your hopes up. Your eyes trailed over the messages, reading them once, twice, three times before it finally clicked.

It wasn’t Nicky.

You had given Wednesday his phone.

You hadn’t ever changed the name.

Nicky: Thing wishes to know if you’ve made it back safe.

Nicky: I wish to know as well.

Fuck. Now you were making Wednesday feel things too? Why would she even care anyway. It wasn’t like she loved you anyway, wasn’t like she even really cared. You knew she didn’t do love, she had said it to her mother time and time again. Why would she care if you were safe.

Didn’t she know Nicky was the one who needed the attention?

You growled at nothing in particular before throwing your phone across the room, hearing the screen shatter when it hit the wall. The sound made you flinch and you instantly felt that guilty feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. It vibrated again.

You didn’t check it.

—---

“You need to eat something before you go,” Mabel urged you once again as you finished buttoning up your shirt.

“‘m not hungry,” you mumbled. Your fingers faltered on the buttons; it wasn’t fitting like it was supposed to.

“You haven’t eaten in five days,” she said in a far softer voice. It was humiliating.

“Too busy planning,” you said, finally deciding to give up and instead throwing a jacket over the crooked, too-big shirt. “I’ll eat when I’m dead.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

You moved past Mabel and went down the stairs to meet up with your parents. It was the day to finalise plans; something that you knew was going to cause argument after argument. There had already been too many screaming matches the past few days, none of which ever came to a definitive conclusion.

Maybe today would be different.

“That jacket is unprofessional,” your mother said with a slight frown.

“The shirt doesn’t fit,” you said without looking up at her. Your fingers toyed with the shattered phone in your pocket.

“We will have it tailored,” your mother sighed, “again.”

“We will discuss it later,” your father said as he ushered everyone to the car. “We need to get going so we won’t be late.”

You sat in the back with the both of them while Jenkins started the drive to the funeral home. With a thunk, your head hit the window and you looked out at the houses passing by. The harness was pulled painfully tight and your wings were already stiff, but you didn’t care. At least it felt, right?

The phone in your pocket vibrated, and you pulled it out slowly to look at the two new messages.

Yoko: You don’t have to answer me, but answer Wednesday. She’s losing her mind

Ash: just saw your pop in town. told me about nicky. im so sorry

You exhaled through your nose and slid the phone back into your pocket without answering. There was no time to answer anyone anyway, you had planning to do. Although you shouldn’t be, he was still the source of the migraine that refused to go away.

Memory suppression. Just the thought made you sick and your mouth feel like you had swallowed cotton. How could he do that? How could he just hide your memories from you? Your own memories. He had no fucking right, those were your memories, not his.

“We’re here.”

You pulled your head back from the window and blinked a few times, doing your best to hide the anger. As you uncurled your fists, you could feel your nails pulling out of the skin; you had left four perfect crescent shaped cuts on your palms. Thankfully your pants were black, and you wiped the slightest bit of blood off on the legs.

The next thing you remember is sitting in one of the chairs across from the funeral director. You couldn’t recall getting out of the car, or introducing yourself. Hopefully you had done well or you would get an earful once you left.

“Today you will select the casket and can order the headstone,” the funeral director said as he slid over a bunch of paper.

“Casket?” You asked, turning your head to look at your parents. “We never agreed on burial.”

“Your mother and I have made the executive decision,” your father said with a smile.

“Then make a different one,” you said with a slightly raised voice.

“I’ll give you three a moment,” the funeral director said with a professional smile. Everyone stayed silent as he grabbed a few things and left, shutting the door behind him.

“Do not question our decisions in front of strangers,” your father said, his polite smile falling immediately.

“He didn’t want to be buried,” you said. Your chest felt tight, like it was caught in vice grips.

“He shall be buried with the other Smiths,” your mother said while you chuckled humourlessly. You pushed your chair back and stood up, walking to the other side of the table and pacing.

“He said he didn’t want to be buried,” you argued; the migraine was back. “Said it creeped him out and he would rather be cremated.”

“We never heard him say such a thing,” your mother said with a sigh.

“Maybe because you were never there,” you scoffed before freezing in your tracks.

Instantly the atmosphere in the room changed from uneasiness to aggression. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck and arms stand up and your breath caught in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I beg your pardon?”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry-”

“-We were never there?” Your father asked, louder this time.

You could hear the chair scrape against the floor and you turned your body to face him. He looked furious and the migraine came back stronger than before. Almost like someone was pushing glass into each individual fold of your brain. You could feel your palms getting sweaty.

Fight back, the voice in your head said. He abandoned us. Fight. Back.

“You weren’t there,” you said with a shaky voice. Be confident. “You left us and didn’t come back.”

“Did you ever stop to ask yourself why we would even consider doing such a thing?” Your father asked.

“Let’s focus on the burial,” your mother cut in, “we can talk about this later.”

“It’s because you produced two freak kids,” you said, your voice stronger, more confident. Your father walked around the table to come closer. Keep fighting. “Could you imagine if that got out?” He looked furious. “If anyone discovered that the high and mighty Smith family had two Outcast kids that they hid away-”

-your head jerked to the right as the slap echoed in the otherwise silent room. Keep it together, you thought as your lower lip started to quiver. You held back the stinging in your eyes as you stood up taller and turned back around to face him. It was times like this where you wished you were smaller so you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“You will never say such a thing again,” he said as he jabbed a finger into your chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

Hit him back.

“Crystal,” you whispered through clenched teeth.

“He will be buried,” your father said with another jab. “That’s final.”

You could feel the persistent stinging of your cheek as you all sat down and the funeral director came back in. He didn’t comment. You didn’t prompt him to.

—---

Mabel had worked for the Smith family for 23 years, she knew when to hold her tongue. But when you all came back from the funeral home and she saw the new blooming bruise on your cheek, she felt a mix of anger and pity. She wouldn’t pretend you were the best at holding your tongue; you never had been. But your father also allowed you to push his buttons until he snapped.

She didn’t have to ask to know that was exactly what happened.

The days leading up to the funeral reminded her an awful lot of when you were younger, with the obvious differences. You were still reckless, almost even careless. Accidentally breaking things, roaming around the house without direction, doing anything and everything your heart desired without seeking permission or forgiveness.

There were times when she would be cleaning and would hear the sound of the grand piano lingering in the air, and she would sneak around the corner to watch you. Back ramrod straight, slender fingers poised perfectly over the keys, face completely neutral as you read the music on the stand. It was beautiful to hear you play again, and the occasional jazz tune that would sound when you were certain your mother wasn’t around was all the more enjoyable because of the slightest smile on your face.

Other times Mabel would catch you leaving the house without warning, not coming back until late in the night with dazed eyes and dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Those were the nights she would gently take you by the shoulders and guide you back up to your room. You did nothing to assist her as she cleaned you up and dressed you in something comfortable so she could put you to bed.

She did her best to ignore each and every new bruise or scratch or scar.

It was impossible to get you to eat. You dropped weight faster than she could keep track of, and no matter how many meals she left in your room, they always went untouched. She tried to keep small snacks like protein bars in your room in the hopes that you would eat them, but she had no way to tell if you did or not.

On evenings where guests would come over and you would be “encouraged” to socialise, she took note of the amount of drinks you would have each evening. It was always far too many, and she and Jenkins would end up carrying you back up to your bed before everyone had left for the night. You would always accept your scolding with a grimace and two Tylenol the next morning and go about your day.

You would pick fights with your parents. Never over anything important, always little things and they were starting to pick up on that as well. At first they had fought back, getting into screaming matches with you and sending you off to your room. But then you tried to start fights over the silverware, or the way your shoes fit, or even how bright the lights were in the room. It didn’t take long for your parents to stop arguing back and just ignore you.

Mabel noticed that almost made you more angry.

Other times, your parents would nit pick at you as well. Over your hair, or the style of clothing you wore. If you had worn the same shirt twice or tracked mud into the house. Your speech quickly became more "professional" and you selected your words carefully in an effort to retaliate. It was far less outwardly destructive, but Mabel could still see the damage it inflicted reflect in your eyes.

But through all of your anger and self destruction and attempts to grab anyone’s attention, you always treated her and Jenkins with the utmost kindness and respect. That was what reminded her of when you were young. It was in the gentle “thank yous” or the soft smiles when she would hand you something. The questions about her son, or about Jenkins’ wife and cats, or any of the neighbours.

She knew you were a good kid. She knew, and Jenkins knew, and that was probably what hurt them the most through it all. You were a good kid with no one to truly lean on and no one to help guide you through this loss. And they knew it was just going to build and build and build inside you until it exploded.

The day before the funeral was the day you would see Nicky for the last time, and Mabel could see the fear and anger in your eyes. She and Jenkins had fully prepared themselves for your mental state when you got back, but even they couldn’t have prepared themselves fully.

You came into the house dazed, not hearing a single thing your parents were saying. But then it was like a switch had been flipped and you clenched your jaw before making a snide remark back to your mother. It didn’t take long to turn into a screaming match, and Mabel and Jenkins watched in horror as you balled up your fist and swung at your father.

The fear in his own eyes was evident even though your fist connected with the brick wall beside him; whether on purpose or not, you had missed him completely. Tears fell from your eyes and you screamed again as your father pulled you into a hug. Mabel watched helplessly as you tried to push him away before finally giving in and crying into his shoulder.

You held onto him like your life depended on it as your blood dripped down the pristine, white walls of the house.

“Your tie is crooked,” Mabel told you on the morning of the funeral. You had been struggling to get ready for over an hour, and no amount of makeup could hide the bags under your eyes or the lingering bruise on your cheek.

“So are these fucking buttons,” you mumbled as you ripped your dress shirt open to start over. She could feel you getting angry again. It was probably from the lack of sleep.

Or lack of food.

Or lack of help in general.

“Stay still,” Mabel huffed, setting the laundry basket down on your bed and standing in front of you.

You sighed, but remained still as she got to work on your shirt. It had been tailored only a few days before and still seemed a bit big again; it broke her heart. But she did her best to ignore it and focused on buttoning up your shirt properly. Your violent treatment had loosened two or three buttons, but she certainly wasn’t going to bring that up to you.

“How have your school ties survived this long if you can’t do them yourself?” She asked, her eyes darting up to meet yours. She almost thought you smiled.

“Wednesday always fixes them for me,” you said. You didn’t look down, but that was alright, she was focused on your tie anyway.

“You like this girl?” She asked softly. If your parents heard, they would have started screaming.

“A lot,” you answered just as softly. “I think I love her.”

“That’s a big emotion for you,” she said not unkindly.

“I hope I don’t fuck it up,” you whispered.

“You won’t,” she said with a smile as she patted your tie down. “You’re all set.”

You turned to look up at the mirror, eyes squinting and your jaw clenching before you relaxed. Mabel kept her smile to herself; she didn’t want to unintentionally encourage you to fight the reflection. You stood up straight and pressed your tie flat once again before slipping the suit jacket on.

“Thank you, Mabel,” you said softly, and you quickly leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Your lips were chapped, but it was expected.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” she said with a smile. You smiled back once, halfheartedly, before walking out of the room.

She really hoped your anger wouldn’t explode at the funeral.

—---

The whole car ride made Wednesday feel sick to her stomach. It had been a short flight down to D.C. and now she, Thing, Yoko, and Weems were finishing the trip with the short drive to the funeral. The rest of the gang had opted to stay at Nevermore for the time being; they didn't want to overwhelm you. The funeral was supposed to be outside, or so your mother had said, but it looked like rain. Usually perfect for such an occasion.

Just not this one.

She checked the phone again, hoping you had finally answered. It was a foolish hope, she knew that much, but it still resided in her chest. No one had heard anything from you since you had left the harvest festival, not even Yoko or your family. She shouldn’t have expected you to answer her of all people.

But she hoped you would have.

“We shall give her space,” Weems said once she pulled the car through the gates to the cemetery. It was connected to the reception hall, where everyone would go after the service.

It reminded Wednesday an awful lot of the cemetery back home.

“Except you, Addams,” Yoko said, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts.

“Why me?” She asked.

“You give her peace,” Weems answered.

Well, that was comforting; surprising, Wednesday knew. To know that everyone else could see her effect on you; had they seen your effect on her? They probably had. Enid certainly had, and that was more than enough torture. But if they said she gave you peace, then who was she to argue.

Once the car was parked, everyone got out. Thing climbed onto her shoulder as she unfolded the umbrella. She waited patiently as Weems and Yoko got out as well, each holding their own umbrellas, before they started the short walk to the grave.

It seemed the rain had ruined the original funeral plans, seeing how no one was sitting anymore and the chairs were in the process of being removed. Wednesday and the small group stood off to the side and waited. They hadn’t exactly been invited, but who was going to stop them? Especially at a funeral.

You were one of the lead pallbearers, the one on the front left. Wednesday felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight of you; dark eyes, clothes hanging off your smaller frame, your wings invisible beneath your suit jacket. But the worst part was you didn’t seem sad. No, you looked angry.

After lowering the casket back to the ground, you hesitated, your fingers running across the wood before you walked to stand near your parents. They tried to offer you an umbrella but you ignored them. You simply stood in the rain, looking down at Nicky’s casket as an old, unsteady man started talking.

Wednesday simply watched you the whole time. Watched the difference in your posture, your back straight and head up. She took note of the way you clasped your hands in front of you even though she could see the scabbed over skin pulled taut across your knuckles. She watched the muscles in your jaw tighten and relax, over and over and over as you blinked too many times to keep the tears at bay.

You were upset, rightfully so, but Wednesday couldn’t have found you more beautiful. Not because you were suffering, not because you were struggling, but because you were. You were handling everything so well, at least on the outside, and she couldn’t help but admire the way the rain fell down your face, caressing the skin in comfort.

Your family, you included, looked impeccable standing there together. Wednesday could only imagine how powerful all of you would have looked if the four of you had been together; you, Nicky, and your parents. Standing there in perfectly tailored suits, manicured to perfection, neutral expressions on your faces. Is that how you would have looked if you had stayed with them? Would she have had the same pull toward you?

She waited until the funeral itself was over before making her way to your side. Everyone else - including Thing - had gone inside to escape the rain and start the reception, but you didn’t move a muscle. Her shoulder brushed against your arm when she got close enough, and for a moment your shoulders fell and your jaw unclenched.

“I’m tired, Wends,” you said in such a quiet voice that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear you over the rain. “And I feel alone.”

Time to use the comfort teachings everyone had been helping her with for the past two weeks. They had drilled it into her head time and time again, through all hours of the day and night until she could recite it properly. It was robotic sounding, she knew that much, but it was a start. She hoped it would work.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Wednesday said. You stiffened beside her. “But you are not alone.”

“Did Yoko teach you that?” You asked, immediately catching on. She should have known better.

“I-,” don’t lie, “-yes,” she admitted. “I’m not particularly adept at comfort.”

“I don’t want comfort,” you said, turning to look at her. The rain had finally started washing off the makeup from your face and she thought she could see something on your cheek. “I don’t want pity. I want you to be real with me.”

“Real?” Wednesday inquired with furrowed brows.

“Yes, Wednesday, real,” you huffed. “Be real with me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

Now that you had put her on the spot, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She was thinking of the now-obvious bruise on your cheek and where it had possibly come from. She was thinking of the bags under your eyes if you had been getting enough sleep, which clearly you hadn’t.

Part of her was thinking of her own parents, as unusual as it would be. How they had fallen in love at a funeral and had confessed their undying devotion to each other. Funerals had always been a romantic event for the Addams family, and she was aware this was for your brother, but she couldn’t deny she knew what her parents had meant every time they reminisced.

Oh. That’s what she was thinking.

“I am thinking…,” she paused, blinking at you twice, three times and looking away. You wanted real. She looked back up at you to meet your probing gaze. “I love you.”

Your brows knit together as you looked away from her for a moment.

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You asked what I was thinking,” Wednesday clarified slowly. “I was simply thinking that I-”

“-Don’t say it again,” you interrupted.

And right there, right then, Wednesday felt her cold dead heart break in her chest.

“You did not just say that,” you said with a huff. “Did you really just confess?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said indignantly. “It’s what I was thinking at the moment.”

“We’re at my brother’s funeral, Wednesday,” you said, far louder this time. “Do you really think this is the time?”

“You asked,” she said again. “Why would you ask if you didn’t want to know?”

“I can’t,” you said as you held your hands up and started backing up. “I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Wednesday let her umbrella fall as she watched you walk off toward the reception hall with hands on your head, covering your ears. She could feel the rain slowly seeping through her coat, but all she could really focus on was you. Only you, and how her father had been right.

Love was agony.

—---

You were going to be sick. You could feel it in your chest, your lungs, your stomach. Your mouth wouldn’t stop salivating and you were going to be sick. How could she say that? How could she tell you that now? Your palms were sweaty when you dragged them down your face, ignoring the makeup that you wiped off with it.

It should have been exciting to hear Wednesday say such a thing. She was capable of love, a genuine love, and had even felt so strongly as to verbally tell you as such. And it had been ruined because they had killed Nicky and now you couldn’t even enjoy the single fucking good thing in your life.

You felt sick.

Your parents were standing in the middle of the room, talking and laughing with some lawyer or congressman or senator or whoever the fuck else could put up with them long enough to talk. It was like they weren’t even upset, they weren’t even devastated that their son, their first born, was currently being buried six feet under. Didn’t they care?

You felt sick.

Weems, Yoko, and Thing were off to the side, talking with each other. They looked up, almost as if sensing your staring, and gave you sad smiles. They pity you, the voice in your head spat in disgust. You frowned at the thought and turned around, looking for someone, anyone to talk to. Hell, at that point you would’ve taken the old man off to the side that was giving you a look that made you rather uncomfortable.

Your eyes fell on a couple standing next to the fireplace, talking quietly with each other. Something about them seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place from where. But you stopped caring when you saw the subtle cloud of smoke fall from the taller one’s lips and you quickly made your way over.

“Mind if I steal a hit?” You asked when you got nearby. The taller one smiled sadly.

“Sure,” they said as they handed the vape over.

You grabbed it and brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. It scalded your throat and stung your lungs as you held it in for far too long before slowly exhaling. You watched the smoke as it evaporated into the air, leaving nothing but a sickeningly sweet smell in its place.

“That’s disgusting,” you mumbled as you handed it back to them. The shorter one still hadn’t looked up from the hole they were staring into the ground.

“It’s marshmallow,” they chuckled.

“Like I said,” you said, “disgusting.”

“You’re Nicky’s sister,” they said with a half smile, avoiding your gaze by looking out at the crowd again.

“You’re a couple of strangers,” you said.

“I’m Casey,” they chuckled lightly, “and this is Devon.”

Devon finally looked up and eyed you up and down before looking back to the crowd with the slightest hint of a sneer. If you hadn’t spent so much time with Wednesday, you would’ve missed it. What could they possibly be sneering at you for? It was your brother’s funeral. You felt the muscles in your jaw tighten.

“He talked about you a lot,” Casey said softly.

“How would you know?” You asked way more harshly than necessary. Part of you didn’t care. Okay, none of you cared. “He hasn’t exactly done much talking recently.”

“The three of us were… close,” they said with a distracted nod.

“He was in a coma for four years,” you scoffed, “how close could you be.” You reached over and took the vape from their hand and brought it to your mouth for another hit.

“We were his partners.”

You choked on the smoke, leaving your throat raw and scratchy. Your head spun to look at Casey and Devon, eying them to see any sort of discrepancies in their body language. If Wednesday had taught you one thing, it was how to tell if someone was lying. Avoiding eye contact, licking their lips, anything.

There wasn’t a single sign.

He hadn’t told you he was dating anyone. Why hadn’t he told you? Surely he would have, you two told each other everything. He was your big brother, for fuck sake, he would have told you. Right?

Right?

“We loved him too,” Casey said softly; they still weren’t looking at you.

He lied. He fucking lied.

You looked out at the crowd and took another hit of the vape. Then another. And another. And a fourth one for good measure. It felt like your lungs were going to burn themselves to embers, but you didn’t care. At least it felt. After a fifth hit, you slipped it back into Casey’s hand and continued looking out at the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice now hoarse and deeper than usual.

“We’ll get through it,” they said. “He’ll get his justice.”

They know he deserves justice too, the voice in the back of your head said. You couldn’t argue with it. But what else could you say? It was too much and you had too many questions. Where had they met? How long had they known Nicky? How long had it been going on?

You felt sick.

You didn’t bother saying anything else to them before walking off, walking through a haze until you ended up with the group your parents were talking to. A few of them tried talking to you, giving their most insincere condolences before going back to their conversations.

It was disgusting. Watching them laugh and talk as if you weren’t standing at a funeral reception. As if you hadn’t been standing at Nicky’s literal graveside less than an hour ago. Heartless, the voice said, they killed him and are using it as an excuse to socialise.

“I can’t recall what caused his condition,” one of the men said when there was a lull in the conversation.

“A car wreck,” your father said with a few mindless nods of his head.

“That’s tragic,” a woman said. “Drunk driver?”

“An Outcast, actually,” your father answered.

Wait.

“What did you say?” You asked, drawing everyone’s attention.

You felt something tug on your pants, and your eyes darted down for just long enough to see Thing. He was wearing a little black bowtie around one of his fingers. But you weren’t focusing on him; you were too busy thinking about what your father had said.

“I said an Outcast caused the wreck that killed my son,” your father continued. His back straightened as he kept eye contact with you.

“Abominations, the lot of them,” a man huffed before taking another drink of the wine in his glass.

Thing pulled at your pants leg again. You kicked him away, listened to the subtle sound of him scuttling across the floor. Thankfully no one else had noticed him.

“An Outcast didn’t kill him,” you bit back. “You two were the ones that pulled his life support.”

The group around you fell silent, now beyond interested in the conversation. Any chance to get a good helping of gossip, of course. That was how all socialites worked, especially when another socialite was involved. In this case it was your parents; they were going to be the talk of the town for a year.

“No son of mine should have to exist as a vegetable simply because we couldn’t be merciful,” your mother said. “Especially because of some sinful abomination.”

“Stop calling them abominations,” you growled through clenched teeth.

Your fingers were starting to ache as they curled into fists at your side. Your pulse was rushing in your ear and for a moment, you felt your chest was going to explode. That your heart would beat faster and faster, harder and harder until it finally broke free.

You took a single step closer.

“If it were up to me, I’d have them all euthanised,” your father said as he smiled at you with his “show everyone we’re perfect” smile. You took another step forward until you were almost directly in front of him. “The world would be a much better place.”

The sounds of the world muffled in your ears, and all you could hear was the sound of your own breathing. Erratic, shallow, rushed. Something dripped down your neck and your jaw felt like it was going to crack under the pressure. That migraine came roaring back as you stared into your father’s eyes.

Do it.

Your fist connected with his nose before you could even comprehend what was happening. The people around you gasped and stepped back as your father fell to the ground. One of his hands attempted to stop the flow of blood while he held the other out in front of him.

But you saw red.

You knelt down on top of him, only one thing on your mind as you grabbed his shirt collar. He almost looked remorseful for a moment. But only for a moment. Again. You tightened your grip on his collar as you swung again. And again. And again.

Harder.

You could hear Nicky in the back of your head, screaming and pounding against the inside of your skull. Telling you to stop, begging you to let your father go. Each time Nicky pounded against your skull, you threw another punch. And another. Something wet slid down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop.

Something wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. Hard. The wind flew out of your lungs and you instantly grabbed onto the arms around you. You tried to pull them off but your hands were slick and you couldn’t get a good hold. You were stuck.

“Y/N, stop,” the voice said into your ear. Weems?

“Say it again,” you shouted at your father who was frozen on the ground, bruised eyes focused on you. “Say it again, you fucking coward.”

“Breathe,” another voice said before someone stepped in front of you. Yoko?

“You're defending the group that killed your brother,” your mother said as she knelt down to look at your father’s injuries. He was wheezing and covered in blood. "You should do this to them instead."

You tried to lunge forward again, and the arms around your waist almost gave out. You threw a leg out, hoping to kick him while he was down. Just one more. But the arms around your waist tightened again, and Yoko grabbed your flailing feet until you were being carried out of the room.

“Don’t you fucking touch them,” you shouted as you continued attempting to fight and Weems and Yoko struggled to carry you. “I’ll fucking kill you next time.”

You felt sick.

The cold air and rain hit you like a brick wall when you were finally outside. The arms and hands holding you back let go and you fell onto the ground as you stared at the now-closed doors of the reception hall. Your frantic breathing was the only thing you could hear.

“Breathe.”

Another face came into view, and almost instantly your breath caught in your throat. Wednesday’s eyes were wide and focused on your face. They were bloodshot; why were they bloodshot? Her hands were poised to touch you, to check you for injuries, but the moment you felt her hand on your arm you flinched.

You saw red. Only red. You wanted to hurt something. Someone. You didn’t give a fuck who it was, you just wanted to make someone else hurt the way you were hurting. To swing at whoever was closest.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you said as you crawled back across the ground. Wednesday immediately let go.

I don’t want to hurt you, you thought as you pushed yourself up to your feet until you could start stumbling away. Shaky fingers unbuttoned your jacket and ripped the buttons off your shirt until you could reach the harness. They were calling after you; you didn’t know what they were saying. The harness hit the ground and the moment your wings unfurled, you jumped into the air.

You had nearly hurt Wednesday.

You felt sick.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #everyone but her au

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ven-on-trial · 2 years ago

Text

Ascending Heaven

Aki Hayakawa x AFAB!Reader x Angel Devil

warnings: MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, afab!reader (reader has breasts & a vagina), they/them pronouns for reader, unlabelled poly relationship, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, praise, handjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, masturbation, reader on top & bottom, smoking, mentions of death

wc: 4.0k

summary: "It has never seemed right to exclude Angel from the sex that you have, but he always insists that it isn’t worth the risk of skin-to-skin contact. Always finds an excuse to leave before you can convince him to stay. And it makes sense, sure, but it doesn’t stop the fact that there is always a void missing from the carnal activities you partake in."

this is the first full smutfic i've posted so uhh i will apologise in advance if the smut itself is a little janky in places im still not entirely used to writing it lmfao. also i swear they are protected but it is 5am i have worked on this for 9hrs straight and i do not have the energy to edit a mention in pls forgive me ;-;

Smoke lingers in the air as Aki passes his cigarette across to you between two lithe fingers, stretched out languidly across his bed whilst you sit propped up with plump pillows against the headboard.

He has long since taken down his hair, allowing the shoulder-length black strands to fall loose across his shoulders and frame his face. You think he looks much prettier like this, more unwound and destressed, like the burden of existence has abandoned him for just a moment.

Seeing him so unashamedly himself in these late evening encounters ignites something within your soul, something tepid but sturdy, like the early flickering embers of a roaring fire. Like a hearth, nestled in the centre of a grand living room, its small yet radiant heat enough to warm the entire space. And when he leans his head back, smiles, and lets out an unbridled amused chuckle, you know you’re lucky enough to be seeing him at his most comfortable.

Though he is still in his work clothes, blazer left by the front door already, with his shirt untucked and the first few buttons popped open, it looks like he has found a new sense of freedom within the four walls of this room. With you, and with the man who sits comfortably in the armchair on the far side of the room, eyes on you as he waits for you to pass across the cigarette.

Angel Devil is something all of his own entirely. He is still fully dressed, not a single crease out of place in his attire, as he rests his head lazily atop his arms, long lashes batting at you in such an enticing way that it is a wonder you haven’t risen from your spot and plonked yourself in his lap already.

His wings are tucked up flat behind his back, angled just right with how he has bent forwards so that they aren’t being squished against the chair. They flex subconsciously with each rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, almost like they’ve a life of their own separately to him.

Angel is, you think, so very deserving of his namesake. Ethereal and otherworldly as he smiles fondly at you, the dim light of the bedside lamp reflecting off his halo and casting faint golden slivers across the bed and the walls. It is like he is trying to illuminate yours and Aki’s resting forms from where he sits, gentle kisses of light heavensent, his own personal rendition of an embrace.

There is no name given to the situation that the three of you have found yourselves in, though there certainly are plenty if you were to sit and think about it. It’s fairer that way, you decided early on, to each of you. After all, the Public Safety Division isn’t exactly the place one works when they want to maintain lasting relationships with other people.

And yet you always find yourselves in each others’ company of a night.

Sometimes it’s just two of you, if someone is unlucky enough to have to work late. But more often than not it is all three, sitting together like this in Aki’s bedroom, passing cigarettes between each other as if it were utter blasphemy to each nurse your own.

Perhaps it is something about the intimacy of the action, the indirect kiss (as childish as Aki might deign to tell you it is), and the bond of trust that comes with directly sharing the little nicotine sticks like this. Whatever it is, it is tinged with a fervent emotion, an unfathomable longing that brings you back to one another night after night. The desire to be whole, maybe, to fill the void that lingers within the shell of your heart.

And it is this same intangible desire that has Aki bringing a fallow hand to your cheek and pulling you to him when you return to the bed, pressing kisses to you with all the same admiration as a hoarder with their grandest treasure. His lips pass against you like static, a pleasant tingling sensation that blossoms out from the point of impact and ripples across your skin.

It is so very easy to fall into a rhythm when you kiss, senses heightened by sheer virtue of touching one another, the culmination of the past few weeks of teasing and flirting finally coming to fruition now that you have the chance to have one another like this.

Angel finishes the smoke you’ve just given him, stubs it out on the little ashtray he’s kept on one of the chair arms. “I can go,” he offers, causing you to lift your head and turn to him, “if you want to… carry this on?”

But you are reluctant as he says this, and a shared glance with Aki tells you that he is as well. It has never seemed right to exclude Angel from the sex that you have, but he always insists that it isn’t worth the risk of skin-to-skin contact. Always finds an excuse to leave before you can convince him to stay. And it makes sense, sure, but it doesn’t stop the fact that there is always a void missing from the carnal activities you partake in.

“You don’t have to leave,” Aki says. “We don’t have to do anything if it’s going to make you uncomfortable, or make you go home.”

“I know it helps you unwind,” Angel pouts, rising to his feet. Of course, thinking of your wellbeing no matter how much he’ll insist he doesn’t really care. “And I can’t get involved anyway, so why stay?”

“Angel, darling, why don’t you tell us how you want us?” you suggest, fidgeting against the plush sheets beneath you. “This way you can be a part of it too. It’s not fair to ask you to leave, after all.”

It takes a moment for Angel to respond, the wires in his brain short-circuiting at your proposal. He’s frozen in stasis at first between standing and sitting, hands still gripping the arms of the chair in mid-lift. His gaze flickers between you and Aki, both of whom look back expectantly as you await an answer. The reality of your proposition seems to be sinking in as his mouth opens and closes, words forming but not quite escaping.

And then he sits. And then he speaks.

“On top,” he says hesitantly. “I want you to be on top of him.”

Obediently, Aki moves to lay beside you, fingertips lingering against your waist to coax you into straddling him.

After a few airy laughs whilst you fumble and reposition yourself on his lap, you are at last sat the way that Angel has directed. Aki’s cock strains in his trousers and presses against your clothed pussy as he reaches up to claim your lips, rubbing in just the right way to catch your breath in your throat.

Aki steals the hitched air from you, swallowing it as he kisses you hard, hastily unbuttoning your shirt and pushing it off your shoulders. You shrug it off the rest of the way, tossing it to some imageless void on the far side of the room, reaching down to unzip Aki’s trousers as he grinds urgently against you.

“Is this… good for you?” you check with Angel, resting your head upon Aki’s shoulder as he works at unclasping your bra. He is watching with wide eyes, blown-out pupils, and a wavering breath. Giving you a furtive nod in response in lieu of verbal coherency, you take his actions as a sign to continue and lean back on Aki’s lap, tenderly pulling his cock free from his boxers. “Okay, let me know if you want us to stop. That goes to both of you, of course.”

Aki’s warm breath fans against your cheeks heavily in anticipation as his eyes close and his chest heaves. Your hand finds his dick readily and he rises to your touch as you grip him, a needy whine slipping from parted lips. He falls into a responsive acquiescence easily whilst in your hands, pliable like putty, and the quiet moans that spill from him sound so pretty as they roll down his chin.

“Tell me, Aki,” Angel hums, confidence finding him now as he folds one leg elegantly across the other, leaning back in the chair, “how does it feel with them touching you?”

“Good,” Aki pants, “feels so good.”

“You can give him more than that, my love,” you urge, kissing along the side of Aki’s neck. “What exactly feels good?”

Accented by a particularly loud gasp as you squeeze the base of Aki’s cock, he murmurs, “feels good when you do that, when you’re rough with me, please.”

“Good boy,” you say, pressing another kiss for praise. His nails dig into your shoulderblades as you stroke him, the slight biting pain keeping you grounded.

With your full attention on Aki now, him reverent and hot beneath your wandering hands, you can hear Angel shifting to your right. It must be just as torturous to him, watching his partners engaging with one another’s bodies and being unable to join in, as it is for the pair of you missing out on the chance to touch him in turn.

His direction is indulgent, selfish, urging you to shift whenever you get a little too into the moment, just so he can get the best view possible. But it is worth it, to feel him there with you in any regard. And Aki is even more responsive tonight than when you fuck alone, as though the sensation of being watched and commanded has heightened his senses and elevated him into a separate state of bliss.

There is something about the three of you occupying this space together, even if you weren’t currently hazed with carnal desire, that feels like you have sequestered yourselves away in a personal segment of paradise. Nobody can encroach on your privacy here, no public safety offices, no death, no destruction, no annoyingly endearing not-quite-explicitly adopted teenagers. The weight of reality has lifted from your shoulders as though it has evaporated into the air around you, still present, but now negligible here.

“Fuck,” Aki moans, dragging the tips of his fingers against your flesh as he reaches for your clit, desperate to hold as much of you as he can every step of the way. Your movements jolt as the sweet friction of his gently circling thumb wracks through your body, and you swear that the room starts to spin when you rock against him to encourage him to press in deeper.

As the first orgasm of the night hits you, it is steady, building up like a stream of bubbles and bursting in billowing swells. Aki’s cum spills out onto your stomach and you press your forehead to his as you both ride out the last few thrusts of your climax, peppering feathery kisses to the tip of his nose.

“Do you want us to do anything else?” Aki asks to Angel, absently running his hand across your shoulder as you come down from your high.

“Could you… eat them out?” Angel suggests. You can see how his wings twitch in anticipation, as does his cock, at the thought, and it brings the heat pooling back to your pelvis already.

Aki’s attention turns to you- “you okay with that?”- and when you nod eagerly, situating yourself on your back and spreading your thighs invitingly, he laughs at your enthusiasm. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’re already soaked from earlier, your sweet pussy glistening in the light as Aki grasps onto your hips and settles between your thighs. His tongue is so hot when it presses against you, runs through your folds and laps at your clit. Fingers threading through his hair, your head falls against the pillows, crying out when his tongue dips inside you.

Aki eats you out with practice, with fervour, taking breaks to nip across the expanse of your thighs until they are squeezing either side of his head and you are quietly urging him to continue, to stay right there and to keep doing that, just like that, good boy.

“Make a mess for us,” Angel commands, voice soft and light and so pretty as it breaks through the symphony of your moans and Aki’s gentle hums of affirmation echoing as praise against your dripping cunt.

It is all you need to spill over the edge for a second time, crying out incoherently as this orgasm hits you harder and with far much more sensitivity. Your clit aches through the aftershocks, cunt clenching at the sudden lack of friction.

“Fuck,” you say, tone imbued with a giggle as the last throbs of pleasure ebb and flow from your body. “I hope you guys don’t want to do anything else tonight, I don’t think I can take it.”

“Sure you can,” Aki taunts playfully, leaning in close to steal a kiss. “Just one more?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you laugh harder, squealing as he continues to smother your face in kisses.

“What about if it’s for Angel?” Aki says, gently turning your head to face the devil in question. You exchange a glance with him, drinking in the blissed out but certainly not sated expression that glimmers in his eyes, as Aki whispers against your ear. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint our sweet boy when he’s been so patient with us, would you?”

“Okay,” you hum in agreement, “for Angel. That okay, baby?”

Angel perks up as you call across to him and voices his approval, readjusting his position on the armchair to get comfortable once more.

There is a quiet moment as Aki positions himself over you, one hand cradling your cheek and the other steady on your hip, where those gentle glimmering reflections from Angel’s halo paint the room once more. You are bathed in gold for several seconds, which stretch into endless hours as your breaths intermingle in the space between you, chests rising and falling in sync.

Angel may not be able to physically touch either of you right now but it is more obvious in these few seconds than it has been all evening that he is so intrinsically tangled into your lovemaking tonight. When Aki pushes into you, it is Angel’s name you gasp into his shoulder, and if you were not so drowned out in the pleasure of feeling full, you would have heard the same name tumble from Aki’s lips in turn.

You are so used to the sensation of Aki by now that you could map his body blind, but there is something new in the mix tonight and it leaves everything feeling so much fresher, as though you’ve been dropped back into unchartered territory and told to make your way out again. It is thrilling, addictive even, to feel Aki, to revel in the warmth of his body against yours and the familiar sound of his hips slapping against your own, whilst hearing another voice in the mix, another set of frantic breaths and another scent that mixes with the familiar smell of your usual sex and turns it into something so much more.

“Does that feel good?” Angel pipes up airily, earning muffled groans of satisfaction in response as you find a steady rhythm to match Aki’s thrusts and your cunt starts to clench around his cock. He beckons your attention with a lilting call of your name. “How does it feel to be so stuffed with Aki’s cock?”

“Angel,” you whine, fingers digging into the firm curve of Aki’s ass to draw him deeper within you, to feel every single inch of him as he fucks you, “stop teasing.”

“What do you think I could do if I were there too?” he continues, paying no mind to your half-hearted protests. “Maybe I’d take your ass whilst Aki fucks you… or you could have my dick in your mouth. Perhaps I’d fuck Aki whilst he fucks you- oh, you both seem to like that one.”

Despite his words, Angel is just as flushed and dishevelled as the pair of you, his own hand tightly fisting his dick and his hair a mess cascading across his shoulders as he slumps heavily into the armchair he occupies.

He garners more confidence in the heat of the moment, becoming more vocal, as though he has to babble out every thought in his mind whilst he unravels. And you certainly can’t say you mind it, as each word brings you closer to the edge, brings Aki closer, hot breaths mingling as you dip in to steal a kiss, and another, and a third whilst he fucks into you.

Aki’s cock pulses as his thrusts falter, as he kisses you with such unbridled vigour that the air is stolen entirely from your lungs for the second time tonight and you feel lightheaded when your third orgasm of the night finally comes crashing over you in waves. Your body feels electric, alive, like every single nerve is awake and feeling absolutely every single sensation coursing through you.

In your ears and the base of your neck, you feel your own heartbeat thudding.

Aki takes your face so tenderly in his large hands as you come down from your high, placing sloppy haphazard lips to your forehead and nose and chin.

As your head lulls to the side, you see Angel with parted lips and flushed cheeks, hand still resting atop his softening cock and cum painting his chest as he watches you fondly. You smile across at him and the little quirk of his lips in response is enough to sate you before Aki steals your attention once more.

“I’m gonna get some stuff to clean us up, okay?”

“Mmh,” you nod slowly, “okay.”

With the bed to yourself, you spread your arms out and stretch your muscles to realign yourself in the wake of your previous activity. Getting comfortable in the middle of the pillows, you turn to Angel again.

“Was this good for you?” you ask quietly. “I mean… I know it can’t be the same as the real thing, but did it help?”

“It did,” he says. “It was better than I thought it could be.”

“I’m glad,” you say. “We've wanted to find a way for you to join us in this for so long.”

“I’ve wanted that, too,” Angel agrees, stretching out his wings and groaning under the exertion. “You both look so pretty when you’re fucking like that, you know.”

Giggling, you toss one of the throw pillows across at him- “don’t say that! -” but he catches it easily and cradles it to his chest as he laughs back at you.

He looks adorable like this, cheeks and nose still pink, even his chest dusted lightly with red, and sweat making the shorter strands of hair on his forehead cling to the skin. Pillow clutched against him like a lifeline, tight in his grasp as though he's trying to substitute it for something else.

"I want to touch you so badly," he complains, sighing as he collapses back into the chair again. "You think Aki will be up for another round?"

"Not tonight," the man in question replies smoothly, tossing a spare towel across the room. Angel doesn't catch this one as easily, the fabric instead thwacking him square in the face and skewing over his head. "We've got work in the morning."

The pout Angel gives as an attempt to convince Aki otherwise fails to win out, whilst Aki attentively cleans you up. He runs a warm damp washcloth across you to wipe away the cum staining your cunt and stomach, patting your thighs to encourage you to spread open again for him. "C'mon, the quicker I do this the sooner we can all cuddle."

Which has Angel practically scrambling to clean himself up in turn, getting up and heading to the chest of drawers by the window to rummage through Aki's old shirts. A looser one procured for himself, one he slit holes for his wings in long ago, lays folded neatly on the top and he hangs it across his forearm as he digs around for another one for you.

"Ooh, that one!" you declare as you spot your favourite, a baggy old thing that was already several sizes too large for Aki when he first got it, and you catch it when Angel tosses it across to you. You lose yourself in the soft cotton fabric as you wrestle it over your head, but eventually it is on and you finish up your bedtime outfit with the bottoms you brought with you.

Aki has since settled into bed beside you, arms around your middle and drawing you close into him. It’s far easier to lay yourself wholly against Aki, with no worries about how you’re positioned. His chest is broad and comfortable, pectorals like pillows as you nestle against them, and his thick arms squeeze you gently whenever you shift, like he’s reassuring you that he’s still there.

And although it is a little more awkward to situate Angel, you choose to be the one closest to him when you lay like this in case of accidents. After an argument following the discovery of Aki’s remaining lifespan, you had decided that it was less risky to situate you in between the pair of them. You had the chance to have a much longer life ahead of you, more to get away with on the very unlikely chance that Angel would sap something from you as you all sleep.

Angel gets to bury his head into your chest this way, though, embracing you as fully as he can manage, with his mouth in the perfect vicinity to press grateful kisses against your clothed collarbone and along the slope of your breasts as you allow sleep to take hold of your weary forms. Loose strands of fine pink hair tickle your chin as you resist the urge to kiss atop it- just in case- and you lean your own head back into Aki’s chest as he runs his hand idly along Angel’s covered shoulder.

You’re sandwiched between the two of them, really. A physical buffer, a conduit of the tender affection that passes through the veins of all three bodies like a live electric current, like the three of you, when kept together, are a complete circuit pulsing with something far beyond any of your comprehension.

And yet none of you could ask for more as the early hours of the morning draw near and the city lights filter beneath the thick blackout curtains, a subtle reminder that the return of the life you’ve spent the evening avoiding approaches ever nearer with each passing second.

You’ll wake in the morning to Angel somewhere across the other side of the room, having shifted impossibly in the night and practically flung himself off the bed. Aki will have risen before you and left to make breakfast for the pair of you, and for the insatiable teens that will almost certainly be the cause of your awakening in the first place. The bed will be yours alone for those first few solitary minutes of the day, before you finally have to force yourself from your reverie and face the world.

But it is home.

And it is enough.

#csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm smut #angel devil x reader #aki x reader

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itjazzbicch · 1 year ago

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Falling

Pairing: Timeskip!Taiju Shiba x Fem Reader

First time writing for Taiju so I hope I did well!

Summary: Taking extreme measures as a beginning attempt to leave a corrupted Toman, the reader runs into an old friend who knows of that life, falling into deep, suppressed emotions when that friend, Taiju, learns what the reader has gone through…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) implied/mentions of violence, swearing, smoking, reader is dealing with lots of emotions, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) Taiju is a soft for the reader, morning sex

Word Count: 2.5k

I knew that sooner or later that the lifestyle I chose would catch up with me. After what I had to do and knew that no one was on my trail, I treated myself to dinner.

This restaurant was beautiful, getting a table beside an enormous aquarium, filled with admirable fish species. The food was excellent, and the aged wine was to die for. I took my time to savor every bite and sip. Much so that I was the last person there as they were soon closing.

"I hate to sound rude, but we'll be closing shortly."

The waiter was only doing his job, nodding but asking, "Let me finish the rest of this wine?"

He was pending on how to respond, till a man twice his size stood beside him:

"She can stay."

"Thank you," Gazing to Taiju in the corner of my eye, I didn't leave the waiter empty handed, pulling a stack out of my purse, handing it to him, "Your service was excellent. Here's your tip."

"W-Why thank you, ma'am," He expressed, astonished by my generous tip.

Taking the dishes, then pacing to the back, I sipped my wine as Taiju sat across from me:

"Haven't seen your face in a long time."

"Same to you," I hummed, complimenting, "What a wonderful establishment you own, Taiju. Too bad I probably won't come back."

"What? Toman have you moving around?" He mumbled with a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it, looking confused as I whispered with a chuckle:

"Oh no. After tonight, I'm sure they'll send their top dogs to kill me."

"Kill you?" Being one of Toman's upper echelon for over a decade made my words confuse him, wanting to learn more as he hit his cigarette, "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"They pushed my buttons for the last time," Reliving the violence I went through tonight, gripping the wine glass and staring at a bruised knuckle, I explained, "I want out, but I'm sure you know that's easier said than done."

"What did you do?" Wanting a more direct answer, leaning over to me as he puffed out smoke, I stared into his eyes, heart hurting despite the coldness in my eyes and voice:

"I've committed unspeakable sins, Taiju."

I didn't need to say more for him to understand, watching him sigh and shake his head, sighing myself as I took my purse:

"I can only hope my soul will be spared when my time comes."

"Wait just a minute," Putting out his leg to prevent me from standing, he had ideas in his mind, "I may not be into gang activities anymore, but you can probably answer a question that I have."

"That is?" Crossing my legs, I knew exactly what this was leading to:

"Hakkai."

"You have my deepest condolences," I whispered, guilty as I knew Toman was the reason why Hakkai was gone, "I have an answer that you're not going to like."

"Tell me anyway,” He demanded and since I understood, I gave him the bit of knowledge I had regarding his death:

"Mikey and Izana. The things Mikey did regarding old members were only between them. Mikey's dead, but Izana, he's a slippery bastard."

"I imagine he's leader now," He guessed, nodding to confirm, only able to watch with sympathy as he took a deeper hit of his cigarette, a scowl on his face from the thought of Izana, "A bastard he is."

"Believe me, I want him six feet under," I whispered, Taiju noticing my bruised hand and slight shaking from the anger the thought of Izana brought me, "He's the reason Toman is the way it is now, why my life is a living hell."

"Hey," His hand found my knee under the table, catching my gaze, "You're just going to give up so easily?"

"What else can I do?" That was the one thought that had filled me with terrifying anxiousness, "What else can I do besides run and continue to sin?"

"They sure have changed you," He exhaled with disappointment, "The Y/N I knew never crumbled under pressure so easily."

"We were teenagers, Taiju," My eye twitched as his words sparked anger in me, trying to get my point across, "I'm in a whole different league, now. I've seen things that you can't even imagine."

"Gives me a better reason to find Izana and finish him myself," He kept reminding me of how close we were once upon a time, making me rethink my entire life, wishing I made it out of this hellish life like he did whenever I had the opportunity.

"I wish it could be that easy," I sniffled, going to leave again as my emotions began to get the better of me, "It was nice to see you again, Taiju."

Standing at the same time, I didn't expect him to pull me into a hug, his massive arms embracing me powerfully, tears leaking as he whispered:

"Don't say it like it's the last time, Y/N."

"What am I supposed to do?" I shook, hiding my face in his chest, "There's no hope for me."

"You're not dead, are you?" Instinctively looking up to him, I finally felt some hope from his words, "As long as you're alive, there is hope."

All I could do was cry in his arms, listening as he offered his handkerchief to dry my tears:

"I've never thought of you differently since the Black Dragon was defeated. I know that you're not like them."

"I never intended for things to go this far," I heaved, still doubtful that our relationship in this past was still present, "I was in the upper ranks before I knew it then Mikey-; He completely lost it and now, here I am, just a shell of a person. You don't have to pretend to like me, Taiju. Hell, I hate myself."

"My grudge is with Izana. Not you," He said sternly, confident in his feelings, "I despise him not only because of my brother, but also for what he's done to you."

All the guilt that lived in the back of mind rummaged through me, barely able to speak from the cries taking over me:

"I'm sorry, Taiju. I'm so sorry."

Practically crumbling in his arms, I officially hit the lowest pit there was to fall into, but he stayed composed, leaning to take my purse, keeping his arm around me:

"Come with me."

"I-I can't," I said quickly out of fear, only caring for him, "I'm too dangerous to keep around. I don't-"

I'd never been so confused whenever he started to laugh at me, seeing that he hadn't change much as he smirked with confidence:

"Don't act like I'm easy prey."

That was true, but still scared as I asked, "Are you sure? They do know my past."

"Hmph," He scoffed, not at me, but the thought, starting to lead me out, "I dare them to step up to me."

Going out to his car, I was drowning in paranoia, but whenever he got into the front seat, driving off with a hand on my thigh, I felt safe. Something I haven't felt in a long time.

Taking his hand, I didn't want to ever let go, so zoned out that I almost panicked when he got out of the car, realizing that we were in a garage, coming over to get the door for me. My legs were shaking when I stepped out, but his hand in mine was comforting me again.

"Don't worry. No one's stepped foot in this place besides me," He assured, leading me into a what could qualify as a penthouse, trying to get out of my dark thoughts as I looked around:

"The restaurant industry has done you well, I see."

"Very much so," He nodded, taking me to the bedroom, guiding me to sit on the bed, "I can tell you don't sleep much."

"It's that obvious, huh?" I sighed, looking into a mirror on the wall, seeing the dark circles under my eyes.

"Here," In the bathroom, he left one of his shirts for me, "Take care of yourself."

Only nodding, I went in, shutting the door behind me, stepping out of my flats and leaning into the sink, splashing warm water on my face. This wasn't how I expected my night to end, thinking deeply about all the things Taiju told me.

I didn't want to give up or run for the rest of my life, but I was so scared, staring into the mirror, eyes burning from not blinking while searching for even the slightest amount of fight or confidence inside.

Staring for so long made rings flash over my sight, head aching, attempting to shake it off as I changed into Taiju's shirt that was a nightgown on me.

After folding my clothes, I returned to his dim room, lit by a nightlight, seeing him already relaxed in his bed, his hand patting the empty side to call for me.

Climbing under the blankets, I laid back, staring at the ceiling, almost getting lost in thought before he pulled me to his side, humbly latching to him, an arm around his torso as I rested my head on his chest.

"Sleep. You need it."

"If I could go back in time," I whispered, listening to his heartbeat and expressing what my heart wanted, "I would've stuck by your side, live a some-what normal life, be truly successful like you.",

"It's too late for what ifs," He was always brutally honest, but encouraging. "But it's not too late to be forgiven."

Stuck to him like glue, I closed my eyes, praying that my life would get better somehow. The warmth of his body helped me ease up a little, exhaustion finally catching me, drifting off as he whispered:

"Just sleep, love."

-----

Blinking, light burned my tired eyes. It was the sun shining against the window, trying to see straight and find a clock or something because it felt like I slept for ages, but was brought back to the bed, shifting to the side as Taiju murmured half awake:

"Better?"

His stature blocked the light, the soft sting in my eyes disappearing as I nodded:

"Mhm, thanks."

Our legs intertwined and as I began to wake up more, seeing his ruffled hair, I brushed it behind his ear, a soft rub of his scalp making him smirk.

It felt so good to smile, yawning and becoming flustered when his hand trailed down my hip and cupped my butt, still snoring a little.

"Really have to give me butterflies the second I wake up?" I chuckled under my breath, not knowing he was awake:

"Only fair since you used me as a pillow all night."

"I'm-" I was only kidding, but felt as if I needed to apologize, till a laugh rumbled in his chest:

"Still always apologizing for the tiniest things."

"I can't help it, alright?" I huffed, explaining, "It's the first time I've slept peacefully in years."

"I could tell," He yawned, opening his eyes to find me smiling tiredly.

"Thank you, Taiju," Kissing his cheek, his nose caught mine before I laid my head back down, kissing my lips instead.

I sucked in a deep breath, radiating in the warmth of his lips, shaking with a hollow gasp as our lips parted:

"You're welcome, love."

I hated how emotional I was, tearing up as he gave me one more kiss, looking at me when he noticed how it made me shake.

"What?" It was early and my mood swing confused him, but quickly understood as I thought:

"I guess you could say that I'm not used to being treated so nicely."

"Lord have mercy," His head shook, "They really fucked you up."

"No kidding," Ready to hide under the blanket from embarrassment, he shifted my hip so that I was on my back, crawling on top of me, staring deeply into my eyes as if he were searching for something, "Taiju?"

He had my heart racing just by staring, thinking till he whispered:

"You're still the same old you. Come to me."

There was only one way I could think of how to respond, picking up my head to kiss him, pressing my lips hard and trying to do as he said, searching for myself. The longer I pressed, blocking all thoughts, my body acted on its own, running a hand through his hair and gluing his body back to mine.

I could feel his smirk against my lips, teeth nipping at my lower lips softly, "Now, that's my girl; going after what you want."

"And I'm going to get it," I wasn't paying attention to my words, spreading my legs so our hips could meet, nails tracing the muscles in his back as his nips found my neck, moaning at how it made my nerves tingle, wiggling to take off my panties, "Just take me."

"Oh, I will," He chuckled, shuffling to take off his bottoms, a hand between us as he hovered above me, "But can you take me? That's the real question."

I smiled at old memories of how we used to flirt, but should've taken his question seriously as I felt his tip stretching me, looking between our gap to see how big he was, gasping hard:

"Fuck, Taiju."

"I warned you," Finding my neck again with his hands running under my shirt, cupping and squeezing my breasts, his hips rolled and worked his cock deeper and deeper into me, making such lewd moans fill the room.

"I wasn't complaining," I gasped, nails sinking into his biceps as his arms wrapped around me, bottoming out and my back arched hard at the slight pinch in my stomach, "Taiju!"

"Damn you're tight," His breath blew past my ear, breath stuck in my chest as his arms squeezed me, bucking his hips faster, that pinch turning into a pound, hearing his dirty intentions in his coo, "I love it."

He was so heavy, the pressure even heavier and the friction around his slicked cock making the tingles I felt turn into sparks, loving it too, a pleasure I never imagined.

"I-I," I wanted to praise him with meaningful words, but I was falling so hard, instead spitting out when he moved faster, "Shit! You're so good! Ah! Ah!”

Palming the arch of my back and pulling my hips into his thrusts some, I fell into a swirling world, hips jerking and the friction growing stronger when this swarming heat dropped from my core.

“Taijuuu-“ I began to whine, only his name repeatedly, trying to make out, “I-Ngh!”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Holding my hips still, his deep tone sent me off, “Just cum for me.”

“Ngh-Ahh!” My walls pulsated so hard, blood pumping through me like a steam engine and I could barely breath, feeling the gush around his cock, trembling as he was unfazed and still fucking me through it, whining to him, “I-I need a second, Taiju.”

Slowing to a still, arms embracing me, he teased me with kisses, “Just know, I can handle more than one round.”

“Oh I know,” I chuckled breathlessly, teasing as I kissed back, “You damn beast.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

#Tokyo rev #Tokyo rev x reader #Tokyo rev imagine #Tokyo rev fic #Tokyo rev smut #Tokyo rev oneshot #tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers x reader #tokyo Revengers smut #tokyo Revengers oneshot #Tokyo Revengers fic #Tokyo Revengers imagine #taiju Shiba #taiju Shiba x reader #taiju Shiba imagine #taiju Shiba fic #taiju Shiba smut #taiju Shiba oneshot #read and enjoy

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jonahmarshall77 · 2 months ago

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rules!!!

basic stuff,,

· no nsfw! flirting is okay. (please do keep in mind i AM a minor,,)

· please use common sense.

· don't be a dick?? ↑

· this is just a silly thing! some stuff will obv be ooc

small notes?

ionno,

· hcs WILL be applied lmao

· as mentioned prior, i am a minor running this account ... don't be weird?

· i may or may not vanish out of the blue if i get too busy ,,

· i MIGHT make sprites !! idk,, seems easier to run one of these with them...if i get the time I'll make them

‼️ AU/Timeline notes ‼️

— Jonah DID die for a few minutes in this timeline, except he got resuscitated after a minute or two (so he still got the experience of death, dying, etc)

— Jonah didn't go back to check on Adam, and believes him to be dead

— Most of his responses to trauma over everything is generally just “it is what it is” until shit gets important or serious

— Any asks/rp threads are set AFTER the crash, no specific time after, but just sometime after

— Jonah hasn't heard from his parents (or anyone in general) for a while, believing that "if they wanted to stay in contact, they'd contact me first"

— Jonah definitely ignores most issues, problems, etc, that might've been aroused from the crash/incident, figuring that if he ignores them for long enough, they'll go away

— honestly he just left the van broken in a ditch and doesn't have any plans to go back nd get it

Tags!!!

Tags: #Jonah's interactions/ints , #Jonah's asks , #That's not Jonah ... more will be added eventually (excluding all the TMC tags added)

#Jonah's interactions ; interacting w/ any other tmc blog that might be out there !

#Jonah's asks ; answering asks (if that wasn't clear enough,,)

#That's not Jonah (or any post labelled ooc) ; ooc crap lmao,, will either be labeled with that or #ooc post or some shit

Claimed Anons

🪦 , 🌻 , E , 🐦/🌹 , 🌩️ , 👾 , 📼 , 🥩 , 🐕 , 🫁 , "Fox" , 🐝 , 🍎 , 📞 , 🧷 , 🧸 , 🐶

hi thats a lot of people

updated: 11/26/24

ran by @battery-enthusiast ... go check out my blog !! its very epic i swear

all accounts i run (including this one): @jonahmarshall77 @battery-enthusiast @mrkheathcliff @certified-dentist @marks-rambling ;; go follow them 'nd send in asks! im active on all of em ^_^

#TMC #The Mandela Catalogue #Mandela Catalogue #Jonah Marshall #TMC Jonah #That's not Jonah #OOC Post #Jonah #Spotify

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maliciouslove · 2 years ago

Text

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟

NSFW, aged up characters (21+)

pairing // ghost!Baji Keisuke x medium!reader x Chifuyu Matsuno

summary // after his death Baji finds himself stuck in the realm of the living. he’s firmly decided to cockblock his best friend Chifuyu, that is until he decides to seek the help of a medium to figure out what the heck is happening.

alternatively: a threesome with a ghost????

word count // 7k

tags // supernatural, inaccurate representation of a medium, light swearing, angst?, questionably happy ending?, threesome, oral (both m! and f! receiving), spitroasting, anal, double penetration, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, spit, praise, multiple pet names (princess, kitten, good girl, pretty girl, etc.), not choking but gentle throat holding (idk), throat fucking, there is some baji x fuyu action, feelings

AN // hello people of the internet, I'm finally reposting my fics! hence why, if this fic seems familiar—do not be alarmed, it was first posted on my old blog :] posting this one first because it is the first one that I was actually really proud of, and because I'm still feral for baji. you can also find it here on ao3. cute mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

What’s a spirit stuck in the realm of the living to do with all their free time?

Take care of their friends, obviously.

Baji Keisuke left the world of the living far too young. He wasn’t ready to leave, nor was he ready for the realization that he never really left. One moment there was darkness, and the next… he could see his own body, pale and bloodied, cradled by a crying Chifuyu.

Dying was painful, but seeing this hurt more.

Baji’s never been one to dwell too long on things; he kind of just accepted his new reality—he was a ghost. Stuck with his appearance as a 19 year old, he existed outside of everybody’s field of perception. Outside of anyone’s knowledge.

So the best that he could do was to at least stay close to the ones he loved. To watch them from afar despite the fact that he was sitting right next to them.

He’d watch over his mom: observe as she always left his favorite food by the altar each night. Watch as she flipped through old albums, smiling at his baby pictures. He’d listen to her talk to herself, sometimes even to him. He always found that rather funny, that she’d just randomly start talking to him, telling him all about her day, and finish off with a little “you’re not even here, are you?” as she smiles fondly at another old picture.

He wished he could tell her, let her know. Hey mom, I’m right here! He’s tried many times, and each attempt ended with failure as his hands simply passed through her.

Aside from keeping an eye out for his mother, he also took the time to check in on his friends. While his mother was more active during the day, his friends were more lively at night. He always felt relieved that, while a lot of things changed after his death, at least they didn’t spiral out of control. At least nobody left. At least nobody else got hurt.

The two people he’d check on the most were Mikey, the leader of Toman and his childhood friend, and Chifuyu, his ex vice-captain and best friend.

He followed Mikey around for a year, concerned about his mental state and the people he surrounded himself with, but luckily the rest of the gang were still there to take care of it. It was kind of nice to see Mikey finally admit he needs help, to admit he isn’t as invincible as everybody believed he was. So on that end, Baji was satisfied—he no longer felt the need to follow his every move. Mikey was in safe hands. And so were the rest of the gang—they’d all stick together through thick and thin and he loved that about them.

But then there was the issue of Chifuyu. While his mental state was a tad more stable than Mikey’s (even though he did cry his eyes out for three months straight) and his physical strength and fighting ability were reassuring, Fuyu was always a little… lost.

Having never been able to read people well, except for maybe Baji, Chifuyu was sometimes taken advantage of. While he may act tough, Baji knew he was kind and helpful, always giving too much of himself to others.

It was about 2 years after Baji’s death that Fuyu got into dating again, if you could even call it that. The green eyed boy was no longer blonde—instead his hair was now black (like Baji’s) and slicked back. He was a little taller, a little more muscle than before. He looked like a child no more, yet he still acted like a child sometimes, so how could Keisuke not worry about him?

The first girl Chifuyu ever decided to go out with was bad news, and Baji knew it at first glance. A stuck up, shallow, arrogant little girl that lived off of daddy’s money. Baji never wrapped his head around why she was interested in Fuyu, nor why he gave her the time of day, but the fact of the matter was that Baji didn’t like it.

Oh, he hated her with a burning passion. Every time Chifuyu's phone would light up with her name on the caller ID, Baji would get so pissed that the room temperature would drop by five degrees. Every time she wraps her hands around Chifuyu’s neck Baji would glare at her so hard it would make the lights in the room flicker.

His dissatisfaction with this girl grew more and more over time, and with each passing day he could notice the little things his anger caused. So he experimented with it, he focused his anger on objects, rather than dispersing it all around him, and it worked! He could move objects, little by little, and he could fuck with the lights and heating if he wanted to.

So at some point, Baji became obsessed with chasing off girls he didn’t approve of. Under the pretense that his friend deserves better of course. He later dropped that pretense and faced the hard cold truth—if I can’t get my dick wet, neither can Fuyu.

He’d scare off girl after girl by making objects rattle every time his best friend has his arm draped around a girl’s shoulder, swinging doors open left and right if they’re about to kiss, turning the lights on and off whenever things get spicier. It was all fun and games for the bored ghost boy, but Chifuyu was getting desperate.

It’d been too long since he’d had a nice warm cunt wrapped around his cock. Too fucking long. And what the fuck was up with his house? He’d never been one to believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but the weird shit was starting to get to him.

So, incredibly desperate now, Chifuyu decided to seek help. What kind of help he wasn’t really sure, but he was angrily typing away at his laptop, trying to find exorcists or mediums or anyone who could fucking explain what the hell was happening under his roof.

The first two he had invited over were complete fakes: telling him they sensed a presence of some sort, chanting shit in a different language that Chifuyu could only presume to be Latin. They both said his house was “cleansed” now, but alas not even a week later when he had another girl ever in his apartment, the exact same things happened.

He was losing hope until he got a ping on his phone, a reply from someone under one of his posts asking for help.

“Hey, I saw your post online that you’re experiencing some... Supernatural occurrences at home. I was wondering if I could maybe take a look myself? Free of charge if I find nothing and am unable to help you, of course.”

He stared at his phone long and hard. Most people who answered his plea for help online started their conversation with their payment rate first, explicitly saying “no refunds,” but this person was offering help free of charge provided they are unable to help? That was new. Refreshing. Plus the idea of not paying was very appealing to him so he had nothing to lose—he immediately typed up a response, making an appointment with this medium and giving them his home address.

And without a doubt, the following day at 6pm there’s a timid knock on his front door. He saunters over and opens the door to be greeted by the most blinding smile he’s ever laid eyes upon.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, we spoke over text about your problem with possible supernatural activity in your home.”

You extend your hand to him, and, nervously, he slots his hand in yours, shaking it lightly while introducing himself. He invites you in and awkwardly offers to take your coat. He wasn’t expecting a cute girl around his age, but he wasn’t complaining.

Leading you down the hall into the living room, Chifuyu rambles on and on about the weird stuff that’s been happening, explaining how he’s already called multiple maintenance people to examine his pipes, heating, electrical wiring and so on and found absolutely nothing.

Continuing his little rant, the green-eyed man didn't even notice that you had stopped by the door frame, staring right at the empty space on his couch. Well, to Chifuyu it looked empty, to you… it looked occupied by a slightly younger yet taller man with long dark hair and golden eyes that seemed to pierce through you.

Without a doubt, there were all the telltale signs that he was, in fact, an apparition. He looked pale, almost translucent in the afternoon light flowing through the window behind him, a faint glow to him that made him look like a fallen angel. You could feel his aura all around you, too—the same skin prickling feeling you always had when in contact with a spirit.

The long-haired man lazily yawns and scratches his butt, looking particularly bored as if this happens on a daily basis. He shifts on the couch, folding his hands in front of his chest and looking you up and down, as if evaluating you and deciding what course of action to take.

“Hey, are you okay?” the Chifuyu’s voice brings you back to reality, and you tear your gaze away from the apparition across from you.

“Um, hey, so… did you know anyone with, um, long, dark hair and bright yellow eyes? Kinda mean looking?”

At this, Baji makes a face, half surprised she described him so well, half offended at the last part of her statement.

Chifuyu’s eyes turn comically large.

“How... How did you..?”

He can’t even fully form the sentence, quickly glancing around the room to see if there are any pictures of his dead friend laying around. She can’t know about him, she’s a stranger, and he’s been gone for a few years now. So how?

“Well, uh, he’s kind of chilling on your couch right now? Right, okay, I know this is weird, and you probably don’t believe me, I don’t blame you, most people don’t.” Your voice goes a little quieter at the end, a kind of sadness looming over you, but you shake it off quickly. “I’ve been able to see spirits since I was a child, I know, bonkers, I can’t explain how or why, but I do, and this guy is currently looking as surprised as you are.”

Chifuyu looks at the couch again, eyes glistening and full of longing, hands balled into fists at his side. But he couldn’t, so then why is he so intent on believing? Why is he so hopeful?

You don’t miss the little glint of wistfulness in his eyes, the desperation clinging onto his lips as he struggles to choose his next words.

“Can you… talk to spirits?”

“Yeah.. I can, provided they want to talk to me too.”

You look at the man across from you again and smile weakly. You can’t always know if they’re malicious spirits or not; sometimes they could get real bad, but this one, despite looking feral, didn’t give off the impression he was malicious.

“S’what, ya can see me? Hear me?” Baji spoke and the gruffness in his voice almost made you forget how to breathe.

You don’t meet good-looking spirits often. You meet the ghosts of elderly men and women who want to look after their children and grandchildren a little longer, you meet young, fragile kids, still confused and not understanding what happened to them. But never before had you met a handsome young ghost that smirked at you as if he knew all your secrets.

“Yea, I can see and hear you.” You smile at him, big and bright, and he feels blinded by it. Yet also so drawn to it, like some sort of heavenly light, a beacon calling him home. “Can I ask you for your name?”

“Why? Does my name give you, like, powers over me? Are ya gonna exorcise me or some shit?”

He grins and stalks forward, closing the distance between you by simply walking through whatever objects stand in his way. Unconsciously you take a step back, not even noticing the bewildered look on Chifuyu’s face.

“I can’t exorcise you, I’m not ordained. I can just… perceive you and talk to you.”

You gulp and your visible nervousness makes something in Baji shift. He grins down at you, his larger frame towering over your much smaller one, and you feel so exposed under his gaze. Chifuyu’s voice is what drags you back down to Earth again.

“Wait, are you for real right now? What is happening?” He’s confused and concerned and so, so hopeful. You look at him and smile reassuringly.

“Yeah, he just got a little closer than I expected, but I can hear and see him, hasn’t told me his name yet though. Kinda rude.”

You arch a brow in the direction of the pale ghost again, and he fucking laughs. A whole-hearted, loud roar of a laugh, as if this is the most amusing thing that has happened to him in years. It probably is.

“Baji Keisuke, what’s yer name sweetheart?”

You repeat his name slowly, liking the way it rolls off your tongue and you give him your name. Meanwhile, Chifuyu is going crazy next to you, barely containing himself.

“Baji? Did you say… Baji? Oh God, please tell me you’re not fucking with me, I swear to God..”

You cut him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. You ask him to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and he obeys. He looks shaken: arms stiffly sitting by his sides. There’s a visible tremble in his hands, and you notice he’s not even daring to take a breath.

The sight of him like this tugs at your heart, and your chest feels impossibly tight. Your fingers itch to touch him, to hold him close and soothe him, but the rational side of you tells you otherwise. Whatever his relationship to the other man is, he really, really misses him. The least you could do is try and give him a little glimpse. As tiring as it may be to maintain.

You take a firm hold of his hand which feels icy compared to yours and you give him a light squeeze as you tell him to open his eyes again. And when he does… tears brim at the corner of his eyes at the sigh of his best friend.

“Baji…”

It’s a half whisper, half sob, and you have to hold his hand tighter so he doesn’t leap forward in an attempt to hug the spirit.

“Can he… see me?” The spirit looks equally as hopeful as his friend, and you nod in confirmation, reveling in the fact that you were able to bring this small happiness to them.

“He should be able to hear you too.”

And before you know it, they’re both crying. Sadness, relief, bewilderment or pure nostalgia—you don’t know, but you’re determined to give them all the time you can to catch up.

They talk happily for hours, Baji goes on and on about how he just can’t seem to leave. Chifuyu just apologizes over and over about being too weak and unable to save him. The long-haired man just shrugs it off and offers a big fanged smile in return. They talk about so many things, and finally Chifuyu asks the question that actually led to this situation unfurling.

“So… all the lights flickering and the noises were all… from you? Why?”

“Ah.. heh, okay don’t be mad.”

Baji speaks in between little chuckles, amused with himself and happy that as a ghost he can’t be touched. His eyes crinkle into little crescent moons as he chirps away his clumsy explanation, elaborating that at some point he just got pissy and decided that if he can’t fuck, his friend can’t eiether.

“You’re… joking right?”

Chifuyu looks like he’s about to rampage and yell, but he notices your head wobbling, eyes lidded and tired. You looked exhausted and pale so he shook you a little, worry painted on his face.

“Hey? Are you okay?”

“Yeah it’s just.. A little tiring. It’s fine though, please continue!”

Baji shakes his head and speaks before Chifuyu can. “Ya need to rest, dollface. Breaks m’heart seeing you like this. It’ll be fine, I got to talk to my friend today, maybe this is what helps me cross over to the other side or whatever.”

His smile is reassuring, but a part of you wants to give them more time. Unfortunately, your body disagrees with your heart, and you start feeling very faint.

“Hey, why don’t you lay down for a bit, I don’t want to send you off like this. It’s fine, just rest your head a little until you feel better.”

Chifuyu had let go of your hand, losing the ability to see his friend, and gently nudged you down on the couch, placing a soft pillow under your head. You shouldn’t be falling asleep like this at a stranger’s house, but your body gives out before you could argue with yourself.

You stir and slowly blink the tiredness from your eyes. Rising a little, you take in the room and in pieces it all comes back to you. The job, the green-eyed cutie, his hot ghost friend: the entire ordeal.

“Finally awake, princess?”

Baji’s voice comes right behind you, and you almost fall off the couch in surprise. In absolute reflex Baji reaches over to grab you by the waist and prevent you from toppling over and it takes him a minute to realize.

He is, in fact, holding you right now. He squeezes at your waist a little, and you look equally as dumbfounded.

“Am I?”

“You are.”

“Holy shit.” Chifuyu’s voice gets you both out of your daze as he stares wide-eyed at the both of you. Suddenly, he can see. Without even having to hold your hand.

After some thinking, you explain to them that this has never happened before, but it’s most likely some sort of side effect for keeping them able to see and talk to each other for so long, combined with the intensity of the feelings they all shared. You have no idea how long this will last, but you’re willing to stay over for the entire duration of it.

It’s been established that Baji can touch you and you can feel him, the question is does the same apply to his friend? They both look nervous as they approach each other, holding out a single finger and they gasp when they feel the pads of their fingers collide.

Before you know it, Chifuyu is being hurled into a tight bear hug and nearly spun around in the room. It’s cute to see how much they still care for each other. You spend the rest of the evening asking about their friendship, learning how they became friends, how they were both in a gang, how close they used to be. How devastating it was to lose each other.

All the while you notice you’re not getting tired at all. Which is an unusual yet welcomed change. You really like these two, you like that they’re probably some of the first people to genuinely believe you when you say you can see ghosts and not just kick you to the curb because of it. You like how cheerful they are. You enjoy their refreshing energy, and you better not be lying to yourself by saying you don’t enjoy the little pet names Baji seems so intent on giving you.

When two o’clock rolls around, the effect is still in full force, but Chifuyu feels awful for making you stay, so he offers to drive you home instead. You try to argue that you can drive yourself, but he insists. Quite frankly, he’s just hoping you have a reason to come by again, even if it’s just to pick up your car. But you exchange numbers and promise to talk again and hang out soon.

“Hopefully Baji won’t chase me away like all the other girls.”

“Mm, don’t ya worry about it angel, I’ve taken quite the liking to you.”

He smiles from the back seat of the car, and you all laugh.

As you lay in bed that night, you really hope you could spend more time with them.

As if your prayers have been heard, you do get to spend more time with them. Surprisingly and with no explanation at all, the side effects are still in full force, and you’re both still able to see and touch the handsome spirit.

The longer the effects are in place, the closer the three of you seem to get. Seductive jokes are thrown around, and Chifuyu picks up his friend's habit of referring to you with cute little names. He’s particularly fond of kitten, and you’re particularly fond of the butterflies the title gives you.

With all this flirting and teasing, it’s no surprise really when you end up on Chifuyu’s lap with your back pressed to his chest, Baji towering over you, his voice a few octaves lower than it usually is when he speaks to you.

“Aw, are we makin’ ya flustered, princess?”

His index finger traces your jaw as his eyes are practically glued to your lips and the idea alone makes your thighs press together. Chifuyu’s hands boldly roam your lower half, one hand sliding on the inner side of your thigh.

“You know, all you have to do is say stop and we will.”

Chifuyu’s breath ghosts over the side of your neck and honestly, you don’t want them to stop. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this, imagined how their hands would feel on your skin while laying in bed late at night. Burying your fingers in your pussy until your thighs are shaking, wishing it was their cocks instead.

So, when you feel Chifuyu’s hands softly squeeze your breasts and glide up to gently wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding you there, you can’t help the little whimper that escapes.

All Baji can manage in response is a feral growl, and he’s sinking to his knees between your legs spread over his best friend’s. Chifuyu’s hand never leaves your throat, but his other free hand takes your chin ever so gently, turning you to face him. He’s looking at you with those big green eyes, silently asking permission to kiss you, but you’re impatient. You crash your lips onto his in a messy kiss, nipping at his bottom lip when he doesn’t give you access to his mouth fast enough. Eventually, though, he obliges, tongue meeting yours in a battle for dominance that you’re currently winning. That is, until you feel Baji lifting your skirt and pressing two fingers to your clothed slit, and you lose all your composure, moaning into Chifuyu’s mouth.

Baji is holding your legs open, his icy hands gripping your plush thighs as he feasts at the sight of your panties dampening from his ministrations. All the while Chifuyu is holding your arms in place, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen he needs, like you’re life-saving water to a man lost in an endless desert. Stuck between these two men, any other thoughts have long since left you. All you know is you want more.

Your neediness seeps out in the form of moans and your hips wiggling against Baji’s every touch, so he happily obliges and gives you exactly what you want. Hooking a finger over your panties, he rips them off of you in one swift motion, reveling in the beauty of the little squeal you give him in response. And your pussy is as pretty as he imagined it, all puffy and pink, so wet and needy for his touch. He licks his lips and gives you another look, waiting for permission to have his way with you and all you can manage is a weak nod.

Wasting no more time he delves in, mouth latching on your sensitive clit, tongue flicking over it in a well practiced motion. Every lick sends a shiver down your spine and coaxes wanton moans out of you. Chifiyu doesn’t stay behind either, his much warmed hands sliding under your shirt and groping at your breasts, toying with the supple flesh, tweaking and tugging on your pert nipples. His mouth was now busy sucking purple bruises into the soft skin on your neck, and every little motion from the boys was driving you mad.

The dedication and effort they give you, the affectionate praises they shower you in, combined with the pleasure they’re giving you it drives you closer and closer to your high. And they know. The way your body tenses, the uneven heave of your breasts, and your wimpers getting louder and louder: you’re so close.

One of Chifuyu’s hands is wrapped around your throat, gently applying the tiniest of pressure, while his other hand slides down your stomach to rub thigh circles over your clit while Baji finally replaces his tongue with two thick fingers. He pushes them past your entrance, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull in ecstasy as he pumps them in and out of your cunt. Building faster and faster, your orgasm takes you by surprise when it finally comes. It washes over you in tidal waves, drowning you in pleasure and the two men in complete madness. In the need to have you.

You don’t have time to come down from your high as you’re being placed on all fours, Chifuyu taking his place behind you, and Baji to your front tangling his hands in your hair. There’s no need for him to tell you what he wants; you’re already running your shaky hands over his hard length, gently squeezing through the fabric. You briefly struggle with the buttons on his pants, but finally you manage to pull the jeans down and free his cock. God, his dick is gorgeous. Thick and veiny, his tip now angry red from neglect with pearly beads of precum sliding down the shaft.

Behind you Chifuyu is sliding his cock up and down your slit, taking his sweet time before slotting himself where you really need him. His cock is not as thick, but it’s long and slightly curved, pretty pink and eager to feel your walls clenching around it. Baji’s grip on your hair thightens when he notices you’re paying attention only to his friend. A little jealous and possessive, he taps the head of his cock against your plump lips.

“Don’t forget m’here too angel, or I’ll assume the effects wore off, and I can’t have that now that I’ve had a taste of you.”

You look up at him, begging him to stuff your mouth full with your eyes alone. You stick out your tongue for him, as if to show you haven’t forgotten about him at all. Simultaneously, Chifuyu finally sheathes his cock in you—all the way to the hilt, hips flush against your ass—and you moan, eyes crossing from the pleasure. You look obscene, and Baji takes the opportunity to fill your pretty mouth with his cock.

Oh, and you can’t take all of him in, he’s so thick and heavy against your tongue. You moan around his length, and drool dribbles down your chin. They take you like that, Chifuyu thrusting his hips into your heat, marveling at the warmth and tightness of your cunt, praise dripping from his lips like honey. So good for me baby, just like that. God you take me so well, fuck.

Baji lets you pick your pace on his length, and you make a mental note of the way his cock twitches every time you take him in deeper, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat. You enjoy the way he looks like he’s about to crumble under the pleasure, so you do it again and again, taking him down your throat, the walls constricting around his length. Baji’s head falls back, eyes shut in pleasure as you coax him to the edge.

“Fuck, princess you better fucking swallow, don’t let a drop fall out of your pretty lips, ‘kay?”

He looks down at you almost lovingly: his pale near-translucent skin slightly flushed, cheeks dusted with pink, his pretty golden eyes now darkened by the lust clouding his mind. You want to confirm you understand him, but his large hands cup the back of your head and you’re no longer in control of the pace. Now he’s fucking into your pliant mouth, every thrust making you gag a little around his girth, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. It hurts, but it also feels so fucking good—the pleasant sting causing pleasure to course through your veins like a drug. And you’re addicted to the feeling.

Then you feel him twitch against your tongue, his eyes closing and muscles going rigid as he finally reaches his climax. Thick ropes of sticky sweet cum slide down your throat and you do your best to swallow it all. You don’t even bother thinking about how this is possible considering he’s a ghost, you don’t question it, you just greedily take everything he has to give you. His hand caresses your cheek and he whispers a quiet that’s my good girl before slumping down on the couch in front of you, simply observing as his friend rams his cock into you.

Chifuyu had gone a little slower while Baji was fucking your throat but now that you mouth was free, he was hoping to hear your pretty little moans again. Now his hands cradle through your hair, and he pulls you up, angling you impossibly close to him, pistoning his hips just the right way so his long cock hits that spot that makes you see white.

His pace picks up and the praise is replaced with curses. He’s so lost in the feeling of you he almost doesn't notice Baji closing the distance between them and slotting his lips against his. His hips falter for a second, his brain processing what’s happening but his lips respond before his brain can. One hand is holding your hip, as his hips slow down their movement, his other hand cupping his friend's cheek as he kisses him back with so much love, so many unsaid words finally making their way to Baji.

You can’t see them, but you can hear Chifuyu moan into the taller man’s mouth. It’s shaky, and breathy, almost as if he’s tearing up. Baji’s name is like a mantra on his lips, a plea, a promise. You crave to turn your head and catch even just a glimpse, but you decide against it, not wanting to intrude on the raw and intimate moment between them.

“Baji...”

“I know. Me too.”

That’s all the response Keisuke gives as he steals another kiss from his friend and gently nudges his hips in a hint to keep fucking you. So he does, hips gaining back their speed in no time, and you mewl under him, completely dazed from the pleasure. Warm hands sneak down your sides, and his deft fingers find your clit to once more rub tight circles against the sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure over you.

“Fuck I can’t move if you clamp around my dick like that, kitten, f-fuck… are you gonna cream all over my cock?”

He’s bent forward, whispering in your ear each word punctuated with a grunt or a pant. He’s also close but he needs to make you cum first. He needs to feel you cream on him even if it’s the last thing he does. So he staves off his own orgasm in favor of yours, nibbling on your earlobe and whispering filth into your ear, practically begging you to let him feel you come undone for him.

It doesn’t take long for the coil in your stomach to finally snap, a second orgasm crashing over you and bringing you to high heaven. He doesn’t stop moving, fucking you through your high and the sheer tightness of your cunt as your walls spasm around him is what pushed him over the finish line. With a loud groan his hips lose their rhythm and he paints your insides white with his hot seed, staying sheathed deep inside you in order to keep all of his cum in you.

Fuck, you feel like you’re on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your orgasm but not for long. As soon as Chifuyu pulls out of you, Baji’s mouth is on your pussy again, lapping away at your folds. You squirm but he holds you tightly in place, dragging the cum from your pussy to your ass, tongue teasingly circling around your puckered hole.

“B-Baji, no.. you can’t, not the—”

You’re cut off by Chifuyu crouching down next to the couch and kissing you again. You don’t have time to protest, honestly maybe you don’t even want to protest because Baji’s tongue feels sinfully good against your ass. The green-eyed man barely gives you time to breathe, lips moving hungrily against yours. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth clashing and tongues moving against each other. He swallows every sweet moan you have to offer while his fingers tweak and twist your nipples. Baji on the other hand is slowly working your ass open, first only with his tongue, the slick muscle pushing past the thigh hole, coating you with spit and cum mixed together.

His tongue is now replaced by two thick fingers slowly pumping in and out of your ass, making your toes curl and your head spin. You can barely remember how to breathe but you manage to beg for more. To beg for him to go faster, to add more fingers. And he is fascinated by how wicked you are, how pliant and needy, how can he refuse you? He gives you more until you’re sufficiently prepped.

With a slap to your ass Baji announces his work is done, and they once again switch with the other man. Chifuyu pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his chest, and his cock, once again hard and ready for you, is prodding at your ass. Baji runs a finger through your folds, gathering your slick and cum and using it to lube Fuyu’s cock, stroking his length slowly, teasingly. Suddenly he spits into your cunt, and the obscenity of it all makes you clench around nothing. You want them, you want them so bad.

His spit dribbles down your ass, and Fuyu spreads it against your tighter hole, slowly pushing past the muscle. All the prep you received wasn’t enough though, the stretch is burning and bringing tears to your eyes but you know it’ll feel good, you know they’ll make you feel so good, so you bear with it. Baji takes pity on you and bends down to give soft kitten licks to your puffy clit, teasing you and coaxing you to relax, and you do.

Soon Chifuyu is fully sheathed inside your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips from the tight grip he has on you. Now it was Baji’s turn and you already feel so full you have no idea how you’re going to fit Baji’s thick cock inside you too. As if he can read your mind, he speaks to you softly.

“Don’t you worry pretty girl, you can take us both, I know you can.”

He kisses you so fucking gently as his thick cockhead pushes past your entrance, you could just cry. His soft kisses distract you from the burn of the stretch, Chifuyu’s gentle voice in your ear reminding you how good you’re doing, how well you’re taking them.

Finally, finally they’re both inside you and you feel complete. They give you a little time to properly adjust before they both move in and out of you, somehow completely synchronized and in rhythm. God, it feels so fucking good. Your whole body is on fire and you can’t stop the loud moans coming from you, mixing in with theirs. Every time they move inside of you they can feel their cocks rub against each other between your fluttering walls.

You’re spread open and speared down on both their cocks, now moving fast and hard out of you, and you feel like you’ll explode. Your orgasm approaches, but it feels different, more powerful. You barely have time to warn them, but they keep drilling their hips inside you, battering your insides and hitting all those good spots that make you forget your own name. It builds so fast inside you, the feeling consuming you, and you don’t remember how to breathe.

Then it hits you. You cum so hard, spasming around their hard cocks and there’s liquid squirting out of your pretty cunt. They’re both stunned, the sight rendering them speechless and motionless. When the initial shock is over it turns them fucking feral. Both are now brutally fucking you, Baji’s practically fucking into your cervix, narrowing down on that spot that makes your eyes roll back, and Chifuyu is biting and marking you again, cock sliding in and out of your ass with no resistance.

They both know what they want, they want to make you come undone like that one more fucking time. You’re so fucked out; if they weren’t holding you so tightly you would topple over them. You babble incoherently against their skin, begging without knowing what for, but they don’t disappoint, they give you everything.

The two men kiss once again, hips not faltering once as they bring you to yet another Earth-shattering orgasm, and you squirt again.

They both know you’re at your limit, so they chase their own orgasms, both cumming almost simultaneously and filling your holes with their seeds. When they pull out, a copious amount of cum leaks out of your abused holes. Their eyes rake over your body, as if memorizing every curve and dip of your body, the way their cum is leaking down your thighs and soiling the cushions on the couch.

You’re so spent and tired, you don’t even realize they’ve picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. You vaguely hear water running and assume they’re running a warm bath for you. You’re still in a daze when they wash you, gentle hands caressing your skin and massaging the sore muscles. You just let them take care of you, it’s not like you have the strength to protest anyway.

They wrap you in blankets and kiss you every chance they get, on your cheeks, nose, lips, temples, everywhere. Someone’s hands are on you at all times, even as they struggle to get you dressed in some warm soft clothes, clumsily pulling the oversized sweater over your head. Then you’re carried back to the bed, where you find yourself between the two of them, tightly wrapped in a warm embrace and you finally allow yourself to really sleep as they quietly watch over you.

3:33AM

You stir in your sleep and feel a hand stroking your cheek. You blink slowly at Baji, who is slightly hunched over you, smiling lovingly.

“Hey, what’s up? Where are you going?” you whisper.

“I think I’m ready…”

The sentence knocks the air out of your lungs and suddenly you feel cold. You look up at him, pleading even though you know you don’t have the right to.

“But, Ba-”

“Keisuke. Call me Keisuke. Plus, I already said my goodbye to him.” He looks over at Chifuyu’s sleeping frame and smiles, but there is a tinge of sadness behind his smile. “Take good care of him for me, yea? I trust you.”

You’re graced by another one of his fanged smiles, but that doesn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. His gentle voice doesn’t help with the feeling that’s piercing your chest, sitting in your heart like broken glass.

“I can’t say goodbye to him again. So, I’m burdening you to tell him. Tell him I’ll be thinking of him wherever I end up. I’ll be thinking of you, too.”

Another peck to your lips. Another tear rolling down your cheeks.

You should be happy for him, that he’s able to go on. That he doesn’t have to be stuck here anymore, being nothing more than an observer as life passes by and his friends grow old.

“Don’t cry sweetheart… You gave me such a precious gift, allowing me to say goodbye, to hug him one more time. To feel you, taste you. I’m the luckiest man alive... Or, wait. Luckiest ghost stuck in this plane of existence?”

His little joke makes you give a watery laugh. You don’t dare speak because your voice will give out.

“Don’t cry angel, no point in spilling tears over the dead.”

As he speaks you notice he’s starting to fade away. You reach up to him, but you can’t touch him anymore, and the realization brings even more tears to your eyes. Your lips tremble, but no words come out as he reaches for you.

All your life you’ve been in contact with lost spirits, and each time they passed through you it would feel devastatingly cold. But now it feels warm.

The last thing you see is his smile.

Your crying is enough to wake Chifuyu. His arms quickly wrap around you and pull you close. You can hear the worry in his voice as he asks what happened, but you can’t reply.

You can’t speak the words.

But he knows. He sighs deeply and kisses your temple, reassuring you that it’s okay. That he knew this was coming.

“He loves you.”

“I know.”

He holds you close, fingers intertwined with yours. You listen to his heartbeat. He pets your hair and places butterfly kisses down your shoulder.

“I’m glad I met you. I hope you’ll stay.”

Every ending is a new beginning.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

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bettsplendens · 9 months ago

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Hello and good evening, may I kindly ask for some orollow propaganda pretty please I'm curious 👁️ (anon bc I'm shy but we interacted earlier I'm following up on my words)

Important author's note: check the notes in a bit for a reblog on my writing blog, ft. first kiss.

hello yes you've activated my trap card (the trap is that now I talk about bugs)

(unfortunately I have my own trap card tripped. namely: headache. hopefully there is coherence.)

First, some background. I swiped a headcanon from author NurgleTWH that Oro was some flavor of battlefield/wartime medic, and I then brought him into my post-canon longfic to be useful in two capacities: a good deal of experience with severely injured bugs, and being large enough and strong enough to easily move, say, the entire Hollow Knight.

He shows up in chapter 3, is introduced to Hollow, and proceeds to pick them up to move them. Hollow, who is reeling and deeply confused at being rescued, on a great deal of pain medication, and being bridal carried, manifests a large number of question marks at the entire experience. He then gets a proper look at the place where their shoulder, part of their flank, and a bit of their lung should be, and immediately swears about it. Cue solidly over a chapter of careful examination, involving him handling them as gently as he can, talking to them, and helping to get the gunk scrubbed off their everything. Very confusing for our favorite sacrifice.

I then had two people in my comments mention that it seemed like there was a spark of something between them. Now, they're both too preoccupied for that something to be romantic, but there is definitely something.

And then I thought about the ship idea, and, oh no. That's really good actually.

So! Propaganda.

There's so much potential for that first meeting. Hollow gets probably about the first gentle medical attention and respectful handling they've had in their entire life, and Oro gets to meet the most terrifyingly stubborn bug-thing he's ever met in his life.

A lot of potential for how that evolves, too. Hollow gradually coming out of their shell, getting more of that gentle care, and Oro finding to his surprise that this incredibly traumatized, terribly injured warrior likes and trusts him.

They get along well, once used to each other. They both have a tendency to socialize like cats- they quietly sit near whoever it is, probably doing their own thing. Hollow ends up leaning on him a lot.

(Oh, that's another bonus of Beetle Big, beyond him being able to pick them up. He stays warm a lot longer than a small bug would.)

Important to this ship, I think: at some point in the future, when they both start to realize they've been mutually wandering towards something more than quiet companionship, it's Hollow who makes the first move. Oro doesn't dare- he worries about inadvertently pressuring them, and he also doesn't entirely think they like him entirely this much. He's a cranky bastard with nothing much to offer. Probably why it takes him a bit to realize what they're up to when they keep quietly bringing him things. He works it out somewhere around about the second live orchid, I think.

They're both idiots, a little bit. Hollow doesn't entirely think to inform him that they're trying to court him, and he goes "well. that can't possibly be what it looks like." for a somewhat entertainingly long time.

They also find each other's prowess in combat to be extremely attractive. Vessel observation pro tip: one can easily tell whether the large beetle in the sparring ring is Mato or Oro based on whether Hollow, watching, looks either mildly interested or like they're about to pounce on him. (My angle on Hollow is demi. Mato is also an impressive fighter, but they don't have enough of a relationship with him, or anything near the right sort, to find him attractive.)

Another stolen headcanon: Oro embroiders. Extension: Hollow picks up on his (canon!) liking for small, pretty things and brings him assorted live plants about it, Oro quietly embroiders matching flowers on things for them to wear. It's very sweet.

Neither of them is overly expressive in most circumstances, but Hollow does routinely go to exchange affectionate little head-bonks regardless of if there's an audience, and Oro hasn't turned that down yet. He also, very rarely, approaches them for quiet public affection, and they light up every time. (there's a lot more affection in private. Hollow likes to pour themself into his lap when given the opportunity.)

Basically: grumpy bastard loner with a soft squishy center under all the armor meets lethal eldritch creature who's learning how to exist without the chains they were born into, somehow they wind up being sweet at each other. Woe betide anyone who threatens either one of them, because they both know the other is able to handle themself but like fuck are they not going to react anyway.

Mildly/moderately NSFW bit below this cut:

Hollow, post discovering their libido (mainly by means of picturing themself and Oro in the place of the characters in a smut novel they're reading), turns out to be much less wary and much more enthusiastic about sex than expected. Yes, their body is doing new things and sort of inventing genitals from scratch, but they're thoroughly enjoying themself and they trust him entirely. They're done with fear and shame, they've got a few years practice under their nonexistent belt and are very firmly done with fear and shame about their reactions and desires, they're just going to enjoy.

Oro, first time: I need to be careful and gentle. It's entirely possible they're going to not like this at all, or need to take things as slowly as possible. Hollow's libido, revving up: pin me down and bite me please

(Wyrms that choose to find a mate only to breed will often battle for who has to carry the eggs, as they all produce both sets of gametes but generally prefer not to spend the resources required to carry a clutch instead of siring it and leaving. Whichever wyrm ends up the egg partner typically also ends up being wrapped in coils and bitten as a sexy-for-wyrms method of restraint. Hollow comes already wired to find this sort of thing hot, stacks their enjoyment of Oro's strength on top of that, and adds their own biting kink to what came with instinct.)

Hollow deeply needs many opportunities to shut their brain off and let someone else do all the thinking and worrying about things, Oro likes to have a partner relax for him to give all the attention to. Lines up perfectly- they get to lay back, purr, and have nothing to worry about except showing what they like, and also to make use of their lack of abdominal organs for size queen purposes, and he gets to have this unearthly, beautiful creature squirming and purring for him.

Sooner or later Hollow arranges for some entirely unobserved time in the sparring ring, riles Oro up enough to get him to actually handle them roughly and pin them to the wall, then convinces him to continue handling them roughly in an entirely different faction. They're gonna claw the hell out of that wall, and fall over afterward on discovering that their knees temporarily don't work.

Hollow has about five essentially-prehensile tongues. No further words needed, I think.

#Hollow Knight #The Hollow Knight #Nailmaster Oro #Orollow #my writing #ish #I got here accidentally but I love it now #don't get me wrong! I also love several other Hollow ships.#but this is what I'm writing and I have a real soft spot for em

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weaselle · 1 year ago

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i swear to all gods, almost every time two nationalities are at war, MOST of BOTH populations would rather not be

I haven't really reblogged or posted anything about the Israel / Palestine situation on here, because that's not what i wanted this part of my social media to be about.

But i suppose i do want people to know where i stand if they want to know that about this blog, so I'll make this post.

There's a history of back and forth which can seem overwhelming to try to untangle, but luckily you don't have to know about any of that to understand my take.

I'm not for or against Israel, I'm not for or against Palestine, I'm for the public of both, and i think the public of both groups is on one side, and the leadership of both groups is on the other side against them.

For example, in this specific instance before this latest flare up there were huge protests in Israel against Netanyahu for being, basically, a war mongering dangerous power hungry asshole, and also huge protests in Palestine against Hamas and his party for essentially the same reason. It is essentially two armed political parties that keep using each other to stay politically relevant and grab power. Both leaders break promises to their people and actively sabotage all attempts at making peace. And the people there know it.

That's why you get scenes like the returned Israeli prisoners yelling angrily at their government, or the Israeli hospital staff who chased visiting government officials out of the hospital clapping their hands at them like they were misbehaving dogs and yelling things like "are you proud? Is this what you wanted? This is your fault!"

Most of the people of both sides do not want any of what's been happening, and the people are also upset at their own leaders about it. But the US is far from the only country that has gerrymandering and voter suppression and propaganda and the occasional disappearance of a problematic journalist or some shit, so those leaders keep getting their hands back on the wheel.

I've traveled in several countries, i've met people from from literally all over the world, I've lived in a couple of large diverse cities. I've lived with someone from Russia and someone from the Ukraine both at the same time... and they were just like everybody else we were living with. They didn't care about any bad blood in their national histories, they cared about "are we all going to have our share of the power bill this month", and "whose beer is this in the fridge and can i have some".

We're all just people, and most of us would rather we all find a way to co-exist peacefully -- cooperatively where possible, respectfully where not. In my experience, that's the baseline for 80% of everyone on the planet. As far as i can tell most of everyone is defaulted at: a vague goodwill toward others, and too busy putting out fires in their own lives to want to go looking for matches in someone else's.

I know that sometimes that hardly seems true, but minding your own business is an invisible activity. What you see are the outliers.

also, crucially, high stress brings people off that baseline, which is why political stunting so often encourages panic.

So you can't pick a side like Netanyahu or Hamas because either of those sides you pick, you pick the wrong side. It has to be that it's both of them on one side, and the general population on the other.

Anyway i strongly believe (with some good evidence available) that most of the people of Israel and most of the people of Palestine have long wanted there to be some kind of peaceful resolution worked out, and that each public largely objects to what the leadership of both sides has been doing for years and years. I honestly believe most of the people on both sides of this conflict have more in common with each other than with their leadership.

Hamas militants have done awful things. And, clearly, what the Israeli military has been doing lately is despicable and unconscionable and wrong on such an extreme level that i shouldn't even have to explicitly say so, but here we are.

So that's where i stand. It's horrifying and tragic what those armed political powers have been doing to the people of both sides: keeping them in a state of terror, punctuated by brutal violence. I support the common public of both Israel and Palestine, whose political leaders have betrayed them deeply, and who deserve peace.

and that's all i'm going to say about that on here i think.

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mogspawner · 10 months ago

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Your Last Days. (Mcrp)

As apposed to the last Smp I covered. (See here) This Minecraft series is extremely story oriented and a really eventful watch!

Content/Trigger warnings: Possible swearing, A lot of people in crowded places and talking, The mod itself includes violence (Guns & Blood) and should generally be watched in perspectives that are comfortable for the viewer.

Other general warnings, This will be a long blog but I will try to keep it as informative and spoiler free as possible!

I was introduced to this SMP by my FYP some time back, thank you Youtube. As of current, there is a Prequel titled Your First Days and it's a very interesting thing if you were attached to anyone's perspectives! (Not entirely certain if it's still ongoing, but I've been trying to keep up with it!)

Now, what Is the plot you may be asking? In a post apocalyptic setting the only thing that is clear to our players is Survival or destruction. Depending on which perspective you watch. TLDR: Your Last Days is a story driven hardcore server set in a post-apocalyptic world.

There are many established factions of people who are all fighting to stay alive and protect their lands. When it is announced a group of Hunters have been sent to wipe out the entire population who have been suffering from this infection for ten years.

Unlike most formatted things, this is something to look into yourself. There are the occasional edited videos for you to look through such as Kaboodles:

youtube

Its a very hyper active, enthusiastic story of a character making a bond against the obscene odds they were thrown into and really quite an exciting story!

Most of this SMP was livestreamed, I say most its all live streamed. Looking up Your Last Days MCRP seems to show several perspectives for you to look up but these were a couple of my favorites:

Ali, Yoshi, Miyaki, Beans, Ray, and Korps.

Before getting into this it was a lot because I wasnt actively partaking in streams as it was happening, 2023 was a busy year for a lot of people. Me included. A couple months back as I was going through perspectives I found these were the ones I enjoyed the most, the story-telling and perspective was incredibly fun to focus on. (That isnt to say everyone involved aren't entertaining to watch!) The concept as a whole is very interesting to me because zombie media has always failed to make me actually scared, but in a world full of people you start to care about the stakes are raised and makes for a pretty compelling setting.

Going on to say! They also have a series I mentioned before; this is a perspective I very much am in love with and honestly it made my entire month!

Thank you to BLKCAT for hosting this and to IvAutumn & BumpyJake for sharing so many amazing content creators! Please consider giving them a follow for more news regarding events and content they put out!

Twitter, Your First Days

Thank you Swompers! I do hope any of this content is of interest to you and you have a good time watching it! Its never too late to seek an interest in something like this!

#;shoutoutsundays #mcyt #mcrp #minecraft roleplay #minecraft smp #your last days #yld smp #yld #Youtube

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switchy-niki · 2 years ago

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Master post (please read ty)

Last updated - April 20th, 2023

Disclaimers

Hello !!! This is a SFW role play blog that will include tickling (not all the time) if that’s not your thing then please feel free to ignore/block.

I am not Niki (Nihachu) and I am not trying to impersonate her! As stated before this is a SFW role play blog

I am a minor. This is an SFW account ran by a minor.

I live in the PST time zone so be aware of that!

I will also do roleplays that don’t include tickling! Be aware I have my own interpretation of niki and I am not caught up on lore! I also struggle with angst so I apologize if it’s not up to your expectations. When roleplaying I usually don’t roleplay off of lore so please tell me before hand if you want to roleplay off of lore /nf

I struggle with tone and interpreting what people are feeling/trying to tell me, so using tone tags is appreciated. I also use them so I know people know what I mean and how I mean it.

Boundaries

I will not do any sort of shipping.

I will not do tickle tools, if your character has wings or a tail then I will allow it. But that’s it.

It would be much appreciated if you dm’d me about what you want to rp before sending an ask. But you don’t have to. I just like knowing what you expect out of me. (Idk if I phrased that right)

No feet tickling. Absolutely none. I will drop the roleplay if it seems like it’s heading towards that.

Pinning is okay. No bondage, the most I will do is wrists being tied together. That’s it.

I will do OC rps! Just know the interactions might not be what you expect since they aren’t characters that have interacted before! I will try my best, once again if you want the best results dm me! /nf

Please use underarms instead of armpits, the word makes me uncomfortable.

Sometimes tumblr says I’m active but I’m actually not, so be aware of that! I will not always answer right away so do not spam me plz and thank u

Lastly, feel free to send me an ask, dm me, anything! /nf

Under the cut is headcanons and extra notes. It’s a bit long and you do not have to read to roleplay with me!

——Under Construction——

General Headcanons

Niki uses she/her pronouns but does not mind they/them!

She is a very light hearted person, none for her bubbly and sweet personality. But she is known to be a little feral around people she is comfortable with. She’s very clingy but only shows it subtly around people. Example being following someone around, standing close to someone, occasionally holding hands if the person is comfortable with it, hugging people, side hugs. She never lets go first when she’s hugging people. She would be usually be way more clingy but she’s kind of shy to show it.

She is a very sleepy gal she is almost always tired and always taking naps wether they are 10 minutes to hours long and although it might be because she loves to stay up at night and watch the sunrise in the morning she usually gets good sleep she is just a napper

Appearance

Niki has scars, not a lot, but they are there (and they are a little ticklish but shhhh)

Short choppy pink hair, with two braids on the sides. It’s surprisingly really fluffy.

She is usually wearing light makeup because she likes how it makes her feel pretty.

Niki has light eye bags, barely noticeable.

Niki loves cardigans and sweaters, she was one in particular that she loves to wear for all seasons (it’s one that she stole from Wilbur) it’s a nice faded blue with a sun with a smiley face on it. She swears she didn’t steal it. Most of her clothing is faded colors, or whites and beiges. She has one pair of platform shoes, but the rest of her shoes are usually colorful high top converse or boots. She has knitted Shruggies and skirts, usually worn in the winter.

If it’s more of a formal type of thing, she’ll wear a flowy dress made of soft material. She likes the way it swishes when she spins :]

she also loves fuzzy gloves with weird colors washed together like those gloves coralline wanted in the movie

#Masterpost #switchy-niki

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electricstrokeconnected · 10 months ago

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It shouldn't come as a surprise that I tell basically everyone I know (and don't know) that art can motivate, inspire, and ignite the imagination. It challenges perspectives, transports us to new worlds, and encourages personal growth. But what may come as a surprise is that art can help spark personal development and motivate with setting short-term and long-term goals. I'll share how in this blog post (it's not boring, I swear!).

1. Art as a Source of Inspiration

Art has the ability to inspire us by showcasing the creativity and talent of others. When we see a beautiful painting, read a captivating novel, or listen to a moving piece of music, we are often motivated to pursue our own passions and dreams. By witnessing the achievements of others in the art world, we are reminded of the limitless possibilities that exist in our own lives. Each person has their own unique story that led them to creating their art, often filled with challenges that may not be different from yours. Let this motivate you into believing that you too can achieve your goals and dreams!

2. Art as a Reflection of Personal Values

Art can also serve as a mirror, reflecting our own values and beliefs back to us. When we engage with art that aligns with our core principles, it reinforces our sense of identity and purpose. This reflection can be a powerful motivator for setting goals that are in line with our values, as we strive to live a life that is true to ourselves. It's all about being your authentic-self, because your authentic self is a total bad-a$$!!!

3. Art as a Tool for Self-Reflection

Art has the unique ability to evoke emotions and provoke deep introspection. When we engage with art that resonates with us, it can lead to moments of self-reflection and self-discovery. By taking the time to reflect on our own thoughts and feelings, we can gain clarity on what truly matters to us and what we want to achieve in life. Which obviously, makes setting life goals a little bit easier, and helps us filter through our many hopes and dreams to the ones that will make us feel the most fulfilled.

4. Art as a Source of Motivation

Art has the power to ignite our passion and fuel our motivation. Whether it's a powerful quote, a captivating image, or a thought-provoking performance, art has the ability to awaken something within us. By surrounding ourselves with art that inspires and motivates us, we can stay focused on our goals and maintain the drive to achieve them. I especially stay on track if I can see what inspired me, as someone with ADHD, I am incredibly visual. I need to see a representation of my goals, and to be reminded of them, because object permeance is a real issue! I take the the old-adage "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" to a whole new level.

5. Art as a Catalyst for Creativity

Art encourages us to think outside the box, explore new ideas, and embrace our creativity. When we engage with art, we are exposed to different perspectives and ways of thinking. This exposure can spark our own creativity and open our minds to new possibilities. By embracing our creative side, we can set ambitious goals and find innovative ways to achieve them.

In conclusion, art has the power to motivate us to set and achieve our life goals. Whether it's through inspiration, reflection, motivation, or creativity, art can be a powerful tool for personal development. So next time you find yourself in need of some motivation or direction, consider this goal setting art activity, it may be exactly what you have been needing!

You can also watch this art activity on my Patreon. Click Here!

Art For Goal Setting:

Supplies: 5 Sticky Notes, Pen

Step 1. Take 5 sticky notes and draw something that symbolizes either a long-term goal or short-term goal. You can incorporate words if you'd like.

Step 2. Place these notes where you will see them, such as the bathroom mirror, above the coffee maker etc.!

Ask yourself:

*Do you have an action plan in place to achieve these goals?

*Have you achieved any of these goals already?

*How can you break each goal down into smaller goals, to make it easier to achieve?

That's it! A super simple art activity that can be incredibly impactful. As you grow and want different things in life, use this activity to set new goals!

I am so excited to see the things that you achieve.

Stay Weird & Wonderful,

Krystal

If you like this content, make sure you give me a follow and share with a friend!

#art as therapy #therapeutic art #art heals #healing art #goals #goal setting #successmindset #creativecommunity #weirdo #creativelifehappylife #canadianartist #emotional well being #wellness #growth mindset

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allaboardthedissociativetrain · 2 years ago

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Things People Have Said To Us

Okay, so, to be honest, sharing this (relatively small) list is why I created this blog, because the Things that��ve been said to us is wild, and I wanted to vent.

(List under the cut).

TW: Some of the things in the list are a bit vulgar, and #6 contains a rant where I mention why and how DID isn’t “fun,” and some alters wanting to commit suicide. It begins with “Isn’t it fun?”

As a little context/backstory: I fucked up and shared with the wrong people what I was experiencing and then the eventual diagnosis in an attempt to find support. Long story short, they “spread the word,” so people I didn’t know well ended up knowing. I tried to be open minded and educate and spread awareness to these people after realizing I fucked up, but a lot of it was wasted breath. We live and we learn. I just feel badly for the rest of the system, because those that have slightly different mannerisms would get pointed at, asked questions, etc. and couldn’t get by on people not noticing they’re not me (the host) because they don’t know there’s a system to look for. (Kudos for them for pretending not to know what people were talking about. Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, am I right? /lh).

The majority of this list was said by the same person.

******

“I want to teach the littles how to swear!”

Why tf is that the first thing you think of when learning about the existence of littles? What’s wrong with you?

“I want to fuck you to make you more punk-rock.”

I don’t remember this one. Someone I actually don’t regret telling, who didn’t spread the word or etc., who’s a friend of mine, told me this one since they were in the room when it happened. It was said to a caregiver who has trouble disguising the slight vocal change between us. He happens to like rock music.

I have no idea what this even means btw.

“I wish I could trigger out someone whenever I wanted.”

Said after learning about “positive” and negative triggers and how they can pull someone forward whether they want to or not, and how certain people can be one of these triggers for certain alters.

Fun fact! This isn’t cute. It’s disrespectful and comes off as manipulative, like you think this is a game, and like it’s a power-play. Believe it or not, no one would like you for this.

“No! Don’t come out! Let (host) stay!”

Not said by the same person but someone who’s openly said I’m (the host) am their “favorite,” and, if they notice or think they notice a switch happening, they tend to say this.

Switches are very, very rarely planned, and even rarer is when a wanted switch actually happens. For us, switches in general don’t happen too often recently, maybe like once or twice a week- more if we’re in a new environment with a lot of activity or in an old, trauma-associated one. Likewise, there are a few in the system where switches are “easier” between me and them but are more gradual and fluid, so we end up blurring for a little bit and getting confused on who’s who, etc. We basically co-front/co-con for a hot sec before fully switching. This is when this would be said.

We tried explaining once not to say this because it hurts feelings and isn’t helpful or conductive, but this person doubled down, so we gave up.

“(Insert-name here) is my favorite.”

Okay? I don’t know what to do with this information. This comment has usually been made about me (host), but also, by the person who a lot of these comments are from, about someone, a host-turned- persecutor-turned-protector, who’s never introduced himself to them because he doesn’t like them and also doesn’t like being acknowledge as being out. (He’s actually pretty good at speaking and acting like me but is not a people-pleaser like I am and is chronically “I’m too tired for this shit”).

“Isn’t it fun? It’s like having a built-in best friends in your head!”

No. It’s going through repeated trauma throughout your young childhood where the people who were supposed to love and protect you didn’t and either hurt/violated you or didn’t protect you from being hurt/violated repeatedly. It’s, realizing at a young age without realizing it, that you need to be All The Things to protect yourself to the extent that your identity was disrupted from integrating into a whole, single identity (singlet). It’s a survival technique that your subconscious chose. It’s something that remains with you, in many cases, forever, even when you’ve escaped from the environment that made dissociating integral for surviving. It’s not remembering years of your life and chunks of your time. It’s having to share one body and one life with up to dozens of others and realizing you can’t just do whatever you want because it could hurt or upset others in the system. It’s learning that there are some in the system who don’t like being alive and think not being alive, overall, would be the best for the system. It’s having some in the system who perpetuate your abuse because they don’t know anything else and believe it’s needed. It’s having flashbacks and believing nothing is real.

Yes, there are funny moments and some of us are friends. But we’re basically roommates in one head that didn’t choose to be roommates.

“Damn it, I want to talk to (insert-name here).

Gee, thanks. Don’t know what you want me to do about that, bud.

“I don’t like (insert-name-here).”

Listen, you’re allowed to not like someone. But you don’t need to tell me or any of the others. Every one of us exists for a reason, even if we don’t know what that reason is. Even if I don’t get along with someone, I will still get irked if you try to shit-talk them. That, and this will catch our gatekeeper’s/protector’s (I call them “the manager” for reasons you can guess) attention, and you’ll be put on what’s essentially a system-wide “unsafe” list, where, even if we don’t know why, we all know you’re not a person to talk to.

“*Interrogates an alter once they think they’re a fictive.*”

This is annoying. Fictives aren’t a perfect replica of their source and exist because something in the brain was like “Hey, this person has xyz quality that this system needs.” Sometimes, yes, they come in not knowing they’re an alter or what have you, but, especially in our system, many consider themselves “adjacent” from their source. As in, “Yes, I have their name, looks, and similar behavior, but I’m not That Person, and I can (and will) end up liking things or talking in a certain way that doesn’t ‘match,’ because I’m not That Person.”

Fictives don’t exist to live out your fantasy. Fictives don’t exist to be determined whether or not they’re “accurate.” Fictives aren’t consciously chosen by someone else in the system.

“Are you an introject of Luke Hemmings?”

From what I was told, the response was: “No, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“(Insert-name-here) is my type. Is he into guys? I want to fuck him.”

Believe it or not, none of the comments about fucking one of us is said to me; it’s said to the earlier mentioned caregiver for some reason. My brother in Christ, what do you expect to get out of this? Do you think this info won’t be shared? Do you not realize we all share a body? Why do you feel the need to share this information?

El Fin. Thank you guys for coming to my TedTalk.

#dissociative identity disorder #dissociation #dissociative alters #mental health #vent #d.i.d system #d.i.d #did awareness #this is one of the many reasons I don't even tell friends I have D.I.D.#I don't mind if you ask questions just be considerate about it #it's not hard to be kind and considerate #maybe I need to be better at finding good friends

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brunchable · 2 years ago

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Book of the Damned (Halloween Special Oneshot) || Sinister Strange x Reader

Word Count: 1.9K Warning: Dark Themes, Heavy Violence and Gore, Mentions of blood, Symptoms of Possession. A/N: I dunno who wants to be tagged or not so I just tagged the people who I see in my notifs often hehe.

Demonic Oppression: Activity steps up with physical attacks, sleep disturbances including regular nightmares, frequent and severe illnesses, major depression or anxiety, severe financial or employment problems, and relationship troubles. tags: @goldencherriess @gaitwae @classicrebound @gwephen @thealleydog @lucimorningst4r @allie131313 @dragonqueen89 @xunquish-blog @d0ct0rstrangewife @pinkplayer14 @ironstrange1991 @mirikusashes @strangeobsessed @jyessaminereads @boop-le-snoot @pinkthick

You squeezed toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began brushing. Every move you made these days was tentative, measured and usually uninterrupted. But it would only take one tug on your t-shirt, one jab in your ribs and you'd be packing and running again, looking for the next cheap hotel where you might go unmolested for a few days. But the thing wouldn’t leave you alone for long. It wasn’t as though you lived in a haunted house and could run out the door and be safe. This thing followed you wherever you went.

It had begun when you and some friends had gone to the infamous abandoned Sanctum at the end of the street on Halloween. As kids you've been told to stay away from that house because it used to be the house of a very suspicious man that disappeared without a trace a long time ago. Some say it was because he was a sorcerer and did magic works involving curses and other forms of very dark magic.

Prior to exploring the abandoned sanctum. You had visions of bubbly potions, spell books but what actually awaits your group was something far more powerful.

You and your friends were feeling your way along a corridor where the gloom overwhelmed all of you like a rising tide of black water. You heard what sounded like someone slurping or sucking very close to your ear. It was both disgusting and frightening at the same time.

“Who’s there?” you yelled, “If that's one of you guys it's not funny!” You had thought it was one of your friends messing with you.

"(Y/N)! Over here." You saw your friend peer through down the hallway, waving to you to come over. You jogged to where they were and you found them huddled over a table.

"What did you guys find?" You asked Mavi, halting directly opposite from her on the dusty, circular table.

"Troy thinks it's a spell book. . . I think, It's a souvenir from some random crystal shop." Mavi snorts while she flips the pages and Troy glares at her.

"Who studies ancient languages here? It clearly says Darkhold." Troy traced the words with his finger.

"Alright then, since you're the expert, why don't you read. . ." Mavi flicked through the book and randomly chose a page, "This."

"It says it's an awakening spell." Troy held his flashlight towards the book.

"Sigils vicissim, sigils apertas. Et aperi oculos tuos. Carne teneantur tenere tenebras que. Palatium, carcere."

After Troy read those words, silence loomed all around you, not even white noise could be heard. All of your flashlights began malfunctioning and all of you began swearing out of panic as it flickered.

You stood in the darkness for a few moments, just breathing, smacking the light repeatedly in your hand. It was pitch black, your eyes still adjusting after staring at the sickly yellow light for so long. The darkness felt heavy. Really heavy.

You felt Troy's muffled voice and a gush of wind as if he had been snatched in the dark.

"Troy!?" You and Mavi screamed, but no response.

"Very funny, Troy!" Your voice echoed through the silence. Still, no response.

The pressure on your chest became heavier and you felt like something was watching you and Mavi. The hairs on the back of your neck rise, like a bug buzzing away by your ears, trying to crawl in and get a taste of eardrum. Your head snapping side to side to try and catch a pair of eyes in the shadows.

You smacked your flashlight again and this time it flickered on. And what you saw made you freeze in fear, causing Mavi to become curious as to what you saw behind her. When she turned around, the entity seized her by her neck and drained her of her soul. You stared at her crumpled body for a moment. The bearded man smiled brightly from across the room with his arm wrapped around her as blood trickled down both his hands and your friend's eyes.

You screamed, of course, and stumbled out, falling back onto the wooden floor and hitting your head. You look back as you heard the loud thud as Mavi's body dripped onto the floor and the man in black had gone like a puff of smoke.

But the thing hadn’t gone away since that day.

You were on the move so much, jobs were hard to hang onto. You had enjoyed the diner job, but after a string of dropped trays and spilled coffees, you had been fired on the spot, even though the owner and his wife liked you. It was the worst thing it had done up to that point.

A party of six sat at a round table in the back of the dining area. You were carrying a tray of plates above your shoulder on one hand when you heard the frightening and familiar intake of breath through moist teeth. It had been right next to your face, like some sick, sex crazed idiot, leaning in, ready to stick his tongue in your ear.

But there was no one there to see. You already knew that. Then you had been struck in the middle of your back with such force that it drove you between two women at the table who only wanted their salisbury steak and mashed potatoes but got you on the slide instead. You landed in the middle of the table. Plates, entrees and sides came raining down on everyone.

Of course no one was going to buy your story about a sinister spectre following you around, terrifying and physically assaulting you at random moments, so you didn’t offer to tell them. You just collected your tips and walked out the door with gravy dripping from the end of your nose.

You finished brushing and wiped your face. It was hot during mid summer that meant it was humid as well. You pulled your thigh length t-shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You tugged on the chain hanging from the ceiling fan and lay down on the bed. The breeze cooled your skin and felt like a stream of cool water running along your body.

You had been sleeping for a couple of hours. What woke you was a tingling on your thigh, like fingertips lightly brushing across your skin. The sensation travelled slowly toward your navel, circled and traversed the valley between your breasts. You kicked the air and threw yourself off the bed.

“No, stop it, stop it!” you shouted.

But the thing wanted more this time and drove into your abdomen like a lineman on a football team. You landed on your back, the carpet grinding and burning your skin. The thing was on top of you. The sucking sound was next to your ear, and you felt teeth biting your neck. You clawed the air where there should have been a face, but your fingernails found no skin to shred.

You kicked and fought until you were able to scramble to your feet. You grabbed your purse and a robe and bolted out the door. You put the robe on, jumped into your car and left a rooster tail of gravel behind when you exited the parking lot. Hopefully you had left that horrible thing behind as well.

You were on a four lane thoroughfare headed east, trying to obey the speed limit. Your heart had stopped racing and you tried to think about what to do next. Getting another room would be useless. You wouldn’t sleep and that thing would probably show up anyway. You decided you would go home to your apartment. Running wasn’t any safer than home, so you watched for the next off ramp. The traffic was normal, which meant there were a lot of cars on the road.

You felt pressure on her right elbow. The pressure increased, and it grew harder to keep the steering wheel straight. You were drifting toward the centre line dividing your lane from traffic going the opposite direction. The pressure exploded into a solid shove, and you were in the wrong lane with an eighteen wheeler bearing down on you. You screamed and threw all your weight downward onto the right side of the steering wheel. The car veered back to your side of the road, and you recovered control.

You drove for a couple more miles. The lights of a police car were not a total surprise after what just happened. You could imagine the 911 operator trying to handle dozens of incoming calls about a lunatic driver on the expressway.

You pulled to the side of the road, as far away from the speeding traffic as you could. Two officers approached your vehicle. One came to your side, and the other walked around shining a light through your windows.

“Ma’am,” said the first officer in a voice raised so he could be heard above the noise of the traffic. “Could you show me your driver’s licence, registration and proof of insurance, please.”

Your heart was still racing, your hands shook with adrenalin. Sweat rolled down your face and dripped off her chin and nose.

“Yes, officer. Just…a minute while I try to find it.” you were digging, looking for the envelope that held the documents. You felt the pressure point return again, this time on your upper back. You took the steering wheel in the chest. Cartilage cracked with loud pops, and ribs dislocated. You couldn’t take a full breath to scream.

The officer was stunned. “Ma’am?” He reached for the door handle but instead of stepping toward the car, he was thrust backward into the oncoming traffic. The sound of impact was almost imperceptible due to the speed of the automobile that took him out. His body skidded a few metres with a trail of brains and blood.

The other officer was standing clear of the door, firearm drawn, shouting at you to step out of the car. He kept glancing toward the traffic, hoping against hope for his partner. “Get out of the car, ma’am, get out now!”

“Officer, it wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything,” you screamed back.

The officer’s arm raised slowly and you took a shallow breath of relief. But the arm was bending at the elbow until the barrel was pointed at the officer’s face. Then it was discharged.

You screamed but couldn’t look away.

For one long, horrible second, the police officer stayed standing, trapped in time, his face twisted into something you could nearly call a smile. You could almost look at him and think everything was okay, like there wasn’t a black, finger-thick hole poked in the middle of his forehead. The officer made a horrible gurgling noise and tilted backward and toppled to the ground like a felled tree.

You were frozen in place, sobbing quietly, unable to move, finding it impossible to process the horrible things you'd just witnessed.

Traffic had come to a stop on both sides of the expressway and an eerie silence fell over the scene. You sat in your car, barely able to breathe. You heard the crunching sound of boots on gravel and waited for another officer to step up or maybe an ambulance driver. Have you heard of an ambulance yet? Surely they would come. The crunching stopped. You looked out the window, but there was no one looking back. No one you could see, at least.

“Leave me alone,” you said. The demand came out as a whimper, scared that you were going to be next. Then, for the first time, it spoke.

“Hmmm, broken. I need a new toy.” His deep voice sounded very disappointed and the crunching sound resumed and faded into the night.

#sinister strange x you #sinister strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine #dr stephen strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfic #mcu doctor strange

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 2 years ago

Text

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for September 2022! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here. Due to the large number of fics submitted this month, author names are listed only once regardless of number of fics submitted because of tag limitations on tumblr. Fics are therefore grouped together by writer.

Happy reading!

🔹i swear i could give you everything by @alwaysxlarrie [Louis/Harry, T, 5k]

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 in the morning. But he had to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though.

🔹gimme everything you got [Louis/Harry, E, 7k]

"Harry tried to convince herself that the only reason she’d agreed to considering Louis’ help was because she was sick of never being able to orgasm, and it was partially true. But she also knew that the other part of the reason was because Louis talked a lot of big game. She talked about being able to make herself come, being able to make others come, and being good at it. Harry didn’t want to fail her mission, but she couldn’t say that she wasn’t at least a little bit interested in seeing how Louis would help her out if given the chance." OR, Harry's success rate with being able to orgasm from masturbation was abysmally low, but she was determined to get there. She tried to actively avoid thinking about the fact that her best friend, Louis, had offered to help her if need be. Key words: tried to.

🔹When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 [Harry/Louis, E, 76k]

“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.

“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table.

Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?

🔹Puppy Love by @neondiamond [Liam/Louis, G, 5k]

Louis is a dog trainer and Liam just got a puppy for the first time. Dogs are sometimes smarter than one might think.

🔹Waiting by the Tire Swing [Harry/Louis, G, 1k]

For as long as Louis can remember, there has always been a tire swing hung up in the backyard.

🔹Head in the Clouds [Louis/Harry, G, 1k]

Harry needs a distraction, and Louis is always a big softie for his baby.

🔹On Thin Ice [Harry/Louis, E, 16k]

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

🔹Rain Check? [Louis/Harry, G, 2k]

After a great first date with Louis, Harry is really looking forward to going on a second date. Things go wrong a few times before they go right.

🔹there's a piece of you in how I dress by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [Harry/Louis, T, 3k]

Taking a sip from his water, Louis shifts the mic a little closer to his face, presses the hotkey on his keyboard to continue the recording. “I recently heard someone say there’s a piece of you in how I dress, and it got me thinking. We all subconsciously pick up habits from our loved ones. Whether it’s a particular turn of phrase, or something that we got into because someone we care about loved it. I’ve asked this question on my Instagram – shutupandlistenpodcast – and we’ve had a few wonderful replies to that, so I’ll be reading some of those out shortly, but first I wanted to talk about the people that have become part of me, simply by being part of my life.”

🔹just see those hometown lights [Liam/Louis, T, 12k]

It was always their plan to move to New York together. Or so Louis thought. Alone, in a small apartment, having lost the love of his life, he takes advice from his sister Lottie and starts writing letters to the fire.

🔹you and I love like it's a secret [Louis/Harry, T, 4k]

Louis swallows, looking at Harry, who grins at him as though nothing’s wrong. He’s leaning against the door of a wardrobe, his long hair having lost some of its curls due to the amount of times he’s run his fingers through it. Louis is still where he was the moment the door got closed behind them, all but pressed up against the wood, trying to keep as much distance between him and Harry as possible.

His heart stutters in his chest as he looks up at his best friend. He’s known Harry since he was barely out of diapers, and Harry gets him in a way that few people ever have – or have tried to. He knows him, to the point where sometimes Louis worries that he’s able to read his mind.

Or: It's Seven minutes in Heaven, but Louis sort of feels like he's ended up in Hell instead when he's forced into a small bedroom with his childhood best friend slash long time crush.

🔹I see the midnight on your lips [Zayn/Liam, M, 3k]

It’s not like his descent into addiction has been anything less than extremely public. It’s not like people won’t have expected it. His fans certainly have, he knows that much. He knows that they might even be happy that he’s here. Liam wishes that he could say he did it because of them. Because of the people that have followed his career, made his career. In a way, maybe he is. Because he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them, if he’d simply been Liam Payne of Wolverhampton, as opposed to Liam Payne, 1/5th of One Direction.

But he’s not here for them.

🔹serve me up a little hope on the rocks [Louis/Harry, M, 10k]

He’s just finished making a drink for another customer when a literal angel walks towards him. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the crowd almost seems to part for him, and for a moment Louis wonders if there’s a literal halo around him or if it’s just the lights in the bar, and then he notices the way the man trips over nothing, and the illusion wanes somewhat.

He’s still fucking gorgeous though, even on bambi legs, and Louis resists the urge to paste on his tried-and-ever-undefeated flirty smile. Instead he just grins, appraising this newest customer and trying to remain professional. He might be demiromantic, or whatever the fuck Zayn had called it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate this man’s good looks. After all, his romantic identity had nothing to do with his sexual identity, much as people assumed it did. For a brief moment Louis laments his decision to stop sleeping with people, especially when the boy pops a dimple when he smiles back at him.

Or: Louis is a bartender who doesn't take drink orders, but just makes drinks based on what he thinks his customers will like. Harry is just another customer. Or is he?

🔹Battle Of The Balls by bluegreenish / @greenblueish [Harry/Louis, M, 5k]

“Rim of the hole, Haz, really?” he gazes at the camera again. “This is getting demonetised and honestly, rightfully so. How are we still allowed to make videos? YouTube, why don’t you just do yourself the favour and delete our channels?”

“After everyone sees that I win this game though,” Harry winks, dimples still showing.

or, the one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

🔹The Referral by @disgruntledkittenface [Louis/Harry, E, 5k]

Louis has noticed that since he turned fifty, his sex drive has started to slow down. Unfortunately, that’s not the case for his younger boyfriend Harry. A problem solver by nature, Louis wants to do something special for Harry, to show him how much he appreciates him even after ten years together. When he suggests getting a referral for a sex worker to give Harry what he hasn’t been lately, it doesn’t take long for Harry to agree.

And then they meet Tom.

🔹Eight Days by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [Liam/Louis, T, 22k]

“Eight days,” Louis says decisively. “If the paperwork takes three weeks that means you have eight days before you have to file it. Give me those eight days.” “Wait, what?” “To show you what you’re missing, being married to me,” Louis says with a ghost of his old cheekiness. “You want to end this marriage, well. I want to experience it first.”

Or: Louis and Liam got hitched in Vegas, completely forgot about it for more than a decade, and it comes back to bite them. Sort of.

🔹Particular [Louis/Nick Grimshaw, M, 2k]

Nick is very particular about the upkeep of his hallway's Brazilian hardwood floor. He is very particular about the cleaning of his kitchen's fine Wedgewood china. He is less particular in his bedroom.

🔹Common Interest [Niall/Greg James, T, 3k]

Louis hums, swirling his potato to form a gravy puddle in the middle. He dunks a sausage in it. “Not that I don’t love our little daily ritual, but when are you going to go get your boy, you big hunky slab of man meat, you?” Niall looks at Louis in horror.

🔹Tall, Dark and... wait, what?! [Harry/Louis/Nick Grimshaw, G, 3k]

Liam just wants Louis and Harry to admit they're seeing each other. To feel comfortable being themselves within the band and know that they're supported. So, he sets up a little game.

🔹Check the Body [Zayn & Nick Grimshaw, G, 869 words]

“Check the body!” Zayn yelps, and Nick nearly jumps out of his skin.

🔹A Matter of Pride by Lhhome / @lh-home [Niall, G, 100 words]

Not at the game Niall takes pride in being the best at.

🔹Just Me [Liam, G, 156 words, poem]

Liam has a great support system but sometimes it can get too much and writing things out in secret helps.

🔹Mirrors [Harry, G, 100 words}

Mirrors are for her not for him.

🔹Ready Or Not by cherrylarry / @beelou [Liam/Louis, G, 4k]

Louis claps his hands. “Right, enough of this. Who wants to play hide and seek?”

Everyone groans.

“Hide and seek, really? Again?” Zayn says.

“What? It’s a classic game!”

“We just played like last week though. At my place,” Niall says with a shake of his head.

“Exactly. We haven’t played here yet,” Louis insists.

Or, five times 1D play hide and seek over the years

🔹just come on up with me by fearsparks / @onlythebravest [Louis/Harry, G, 1k]

“At least I’m not doing anything illegal,” Harry hissed.

“It’s not illegal, pretty.”

“Climbing on strangers’ roofs? Pretty sure it is, mate.”

“It’s fine.” Louis sighed. “Just c’mon up.”

(Louis climbs up on a roof to take a shortcut, but Harry is reluctant to join him.)

🔹Oh, That's What I Want by @lululawrence [Louis/Harry, NR, 38k]

“Oh my god, does that mean we get to go dancing?” Liam asked, clapping her hands.

“I’m 42 years old, Liam,” Louis said, her voice flat. “I don’t think the place to pick up men my age is at a club downtown.”

“Where do you want to pick them up, then?” Zayn asked gently. “Wanna go to a classy bar? We can get all dressed up, show off the tits we didn’t have at 18, and see who we can find.”

Louis pursed her lips. “That sounds a lot more my speed, but I was serious when I said I don’t have anything sexy. I haven’t felt sexy in at least a decade, I don’t think.” That made her pause. “Fuck. Our marriage really has been going downhill for a long time, hasn’t it? We had no idea that we’d somehow switched from romantic partners to roommates.”

“All the more reason to go out and get you laid,” Zayn said, nodding to herself.

Louis is 42 and newly divorced with her four daughters off to college when she realizes all the plans she used to have for her life no longer fit. Just as she's starting to figure things out, she meets Harry Styles who proves sometimes starting over turns out so much better than sticking with the original plan.

🔹Too Sexy (for the BBC) [Louis/Greg James, NR, 2k]

“Did you know 200 people complained to the BBC officially to say that Olly Alexander’s performance at New Year’s Eve was,” Greg paused to allow the viewers to take in the most provocative part of the dance that had been performed that night for a moment before using air quotes and saying, “too sexy?”

Frowning a bit in a concerned and yet also disappointed way, Greg then continued.

“I actually felt a bit left out. I had an idea.”

🔹I Can Go With The Flow [Greg James/Gemma Styles, Louis/Nick Grimshaw, Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, NR, 4k]

“You know how we said Gem’s brother is moving down to London, yeah?” Greg asked as they were sitting around Louis and Grimmy’s table, munching on the vegetables Gemma had insisted they bring whilst they waited for whatever casserole Grimmy had decided to experiment with this week.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said, getting up from the table and heading into the kitchen. “He’s staying with you until he finds a place, isn’t he?”

When Greg comes up with the brilliant plan to introduce Harry to their best friends Grimmy and Louis, Gemma isn't entirely pleased. Then again, she never could have imagined the outcome either.

🔹I Remember (The Distances We Covered)[Louis/Harry, NR, 5k]

@ColleenisStylish: @LouisTomlinson my dad thinks he’s sat next to you on a train from Edinburgh right now, so if you could confirm that would be amazing. His name is Harry and he’s just had white wine and says you’re on red x

Louis glanced at the glass of red wine in his hand before taking a quick look around those nearest him on the train. Just across the aisle in a seat facing him was a man with graying, curly hair falling into his face yet somehow staying above his glasses. He was reading a book as he tapped his foot, seemingly oblivious to everything around him, and there sitting on the table in front of him was a half glass of white wine.

🔹Somebody Get Me Through This Nightmare [Harry/Louis, NR, 11k]

“I am not subjecting you to my poor dog in his moment of vulnerability!” Louis cried. “That would be cruel to you, but also to Clifford.” Louis got up and started pacing again like he had been before. “He is so cuddly and honestly is also quite spoiled, and now he probably thinks I’ve abandoned him over this. And I essentially have! I’m serious, Harry, I close my eyes and the visuals of his bald head haunt me. God, how am I going to sleep tonight? I can’t even bring myself to walk back into the house.”

“You are always welcome to sleep on my couch if you need,” Harry offered immediately. “I still don’t think it’s quite as bad as you seem to believe it is, but I’d much rather you be next door than fifteen or twenty minutes away at someone else’s house.”

Louis was flooded with relief. “God, if you really don’t mind, I would really appreciate that.”

🔹Should Have Known by @allwaswell16 [Liam/Louis, NR, 2k]

Liam returns from his internship abroad ready to tell his best friend that he wants to be more than friends. But when Louis starts avoiding him, he's no longer sure the timing is right.

🔹Love On Air by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [Harry/Louis, E, 18k]

Louis loves music. He loves to listen to music, to promote musicians on his radio show, and more than anything, he loves to talk about music. What he hadn't expected was to be sitting trapped, on air, in his studio with a stranger who it turns out is just as passionate about music as Louis is.

Or the one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

🔹We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood [Louis/Harry, T, 5k]

Hello Harry, this may seem out of the blue, and even weirder if you don’t remember me. We hung out for a few weeks back in the summer of 82. A picture of you showed up on my facebook tonight, I think because we have a few mutual friends on here. I know we haven’t spoken in forty years, but I thought I’d just shoot you a message. I hope you’re doing well. L

Or, the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

🔹For My Lovers (series) by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers [Louis/Harry/OMC, E, 19k]

He kissed Harry’s lips, soft and fleeting. Louis didn’t waste any time and went down, kissing Harry’s neck, chest, abs and lower abdomen. Harry panted quietly, but he was sure he could come right away. He hasn’t been touched for such a long time that any physical contact was now feeling magnified.

“Can I have a kiss too?” Andrew whimpered in the background.

Or Harry had a crush on Andrew, his co-worker, for a few months, but when he meets Louis, the handsome BDSM club owner, everything changes.

🔹Your Heart Is the Biggest Gift You Can Give Anyone by @fallinglikethis [Louis/Harry, G, 1k]

This Christmas, Louis decides to take a chance in order to get what he really wants.

🔹One to Grow On by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [Liam/Louis, E, 3k]

Liam’s booked himself a private session for his birthday to finally properly explore his interest in spanking. After all the months of build up, a simple 29 spankings for 29 years would probably be celebration enough. But he and Louis might each have a surprise in store, too. Part 7 of Glory Hole-idays

🔹Softly and Sincere[Zayn/Harry, T, 1k]

A tiny slice of Girl!Zarry fluff inspired by the Chuck Berry song, "No Particular Place to Go."

🔹Swings Said[Harry/Louis, T, 500 words]

A love story told by five swings who each were there to see a piece of it unfold.

🔹Too Hard to Describe [Louis/Harry, E, 1k]

Harry's agreed to let someone else fuck Louis. As long as Louis describes it all to him as it's happening.

🔹Gratuitous [Niall/Shawn Mendes, M, 500 words]

Niall taking care of the bill has always turned Shawn on. Sometimes he feels the need to thank him immediately.

🔹Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt [Louis/Harry, G, 14k]

Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something. He felt calm. Relaxed. The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him. “Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.” Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him. “I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits. “You’re gonna kink shame me?”

Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers

🔹Skate Fast, Eat Ass by stretchmybones / @harryslonecurl [Harry/Louis, E, 7k]

Skaterboi Louis meets Gardener Harry who has just moved in down the street. A bit of love at first sight, lots of smut, fluff and pasta eating ensue.

🔹but for the right person [Louis/Harry, E, 1k]

“You’ve been bad, daddy.”

🔹neither wanting more, neither asking why (series) by @justanothershadeofblue [OT5, M/T/E, 40k]

For Louis Tomlinson, there's nothing that compares with getting his soulmark and meeting his soulmate. Nothing that he could imagine that ever could.

🔹strawberry daiquiri [Louis/Harry, E, 3k]

Louis likes to watch Harry lose control.

🔹The Hawthorne Country Club by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose [Louis/Harry, M, 1k]

“Hey, have you seen the new golf instructor?” Niall Horan asks Louis Tomlinson one day. He’s leaning against a locker room door. The Irishman smells a bit like freshly mowed grass. He’s clearly been out on the golf course to get it ready for opening this morning.

Louis glances up at his friend from where he’s tying his shiny work shoes on the bench. “No, but he’s been all Amanda can talk about. She wouldn’t stop going on and on about his curly hair and his dimples.”

or the one where Harry is the new hire at the country club who everyone raves about. Louis isn't impressed.

🔹The Hellebore Theatre [Louis/Harry, M, 2k]

Harry is scared shitless. For months, he’s been on edge, waiting for the moment when he’ll hear the words he’s been longing to hear and now he finally has. But now, they come with a great weight hanging over his head.

“You’re on,” the director tells him only minutes before the curtain is supposed to rise.

or the one where Harry is a swing and has to perform the leading role of King Louis Tomlinson in front of King Louis Tomlinson

🔹The Hazel Woods [Harry/Louis, M, 3k]

There, just a few feet away across the clearing, a person is leaning against an aging tree, looking very dapper in a tailored suit. Even in the dim light, his eyes are a bright, bold blue. As he softly laughs to whomever he’s conversing with, Harry can swear he sees a flash of fang. Well, that’s enough to convince him that everything he’d experienced in Romania hadn’t been a wild figment of his imagination. or the one where Harry attends the funeral for a distant family member and sees a familiar face. Part 2 of The Honeycomb B&B

🔹The Hidden Hills Restaurant [Harry/Louis, E, 4k]

“Are you sure you want to hear about this? Wouldn’t you rather hear about what I’ll do to you? How often? How long? How many fin—“

“I like to get to know my potential clients before agreeing to anything,” Louis says and lays down the menu. He’s thinking of steak. Something meaty, juicy, and hearty.

Harry’s arched eyebrow at the word ‘potential’ doesn’t escape Louis’ notice.

or the one where Louis is a personal feeder and Harry is the vampire to be his next client

🔹Don't Worry, Darling [Harry/Louis, E, 27k]

Frank and Shelley Harper are the founders of the Victory Project-- a place for his employees and their spouses to live, to work, and to enjoy themselves while keeping safe from the outside world.

Louis and Harry Styles are the newest inhabitants of Victory, but when Louis begins to question his reality, he has to rely on himself and his husband to find out the truth.

🔹Good Boys Go to Hell by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [Louis/Harry, E, 8k]

Harry's a good boy, he really is. He strives to be the best pup for his master Louis, so when Louis says Harry must wait until after the footie game for Louis to play with him, Harry is determined to be patient. His bladder, however, has other plans...

🔹the fake zarry au (series) by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian , zmmf / @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger [Louis/Harry, E/M, 13k]

When Louis Tomlinson gets a directing gig that's layered in more NDA's than he's ever seen, the last person he expects to work for is famous pop star (and his best friend Liam's celebrity crush), ZAYN. But what he expects even less is Zayn's Very! Enthusiastic! Fashion Influencer! boyfriend Harry Styles, who seems to want to make Louis’ life a living hell with his very existence.

When Harry signed on to become Zayn's fake boyfriend, he expected 12 months of good press and a generous paycheck to help launch his makeup/skincare line—he didn't expect to fall in love at first sight with the man who'll apparently be following Zayn around all. the. damn. time. for the same year.

A fake dating with a twist famous/not-famous enemies to friends to secret lovers where Larry and Ziam fall in love behind the scenes while Zarry bicker in public. Featuring popstar!Zayn, Harry as influencer and founder of, yep, Pleasing, Louis as Zayn's Charlie, DJ Payno, and Niall as the man who brings them all together.

🔹Aqueous Transmission by @littleroverlouis [Louis/Harry, E, 2k]

Louis offers some relief to her pregnant wife, Harry. Then suggests something new.

🔹Just the Start [Harry/Louis, M, 9k]

Louis is a fifty-two year old divorcé who has fallen into rut. He never anticipated a forced day of self care, and a chance meeting with a charming salon owner would shake him out of his comfort zone.

-Fic Fests-

🔹 @1dwatersportsficfest / 1D Watersports Fest / masterpost

🔹 @wordplayfics / Wordplay Fic Challenge / masterpost

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #1dsource

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peonyblossom · 3 years ago

Note

Chosen at random!

1/5/7/3 from the four part date prompts for E&S

Renaissance

Book: Open Heart (post-series)

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Sadie Oakley Ramsey); Bryce Lahela x f!OC (Vivien Hernandez) (mentioned)

Other Characters: Jackie Varma, Aurora Emery, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, f!OC (Vanessa Brooks)

Words: ~1.2k

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Minor swearing (fits into PG-13 guidelines)

Summary: Ethan and Sadie attend a renaissance fair and run into an unexpected someone from Sadie's past.

A/N: Sorry this took a minute to write! I got covid, but I just tested negative today!! This was actually a bit of a challenge, but I really enjoyed it! A/N 2: This request is from this prompt list with the prompts (1) established relationship (5) renaissance fair (7) “I was going to make you dinner, but uh . . . I ran into problems” & (3) they run into an ex.

AO3 link here

Taglist: @rookiemartin @crazy-loca-blog

“Are you almost ready?” Sadie called out to Ethan as she grabbed her cardigan off the couch.

“I still don’t understand why you even want to go,” Ethan responded, coming down the stairs in a simple costume.

“I already told you, Elijah got tickets for everyone and I’ve never been to a Renaissance Fair so I thought it’d be fun!”

Ethan approached his wife and put his hands on her waist. “I meant… I don’t understand why you want to go when you’re due in eight weeks.”

“That’s two whole months from now!” Ethan gave Sadie a knowing look. “But I will take it easy today. I promise.” Sadie pressed a kiss to Ethan’s lips. “Now, let’s go.”

Ethan rolled his eyes at his wife, but nevertheless, followed her out to the car. It didn’t take them long to pull up to the fair, seeing Sadie’s friends gathered in the parking lot waiting for them. Ethan came around the passenger’s side to help Sadie out of the car.

“Hey guys!” Sadie said, making her presence known to her friends.

“Sadie!” Sienna said, running over to hug her friend. “You came!”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Sadie responded.

“Well, yeah, but we weren’t sure if you'd be feeling up to it,” Jackie said.

“We might leave early, but I really wanted to come!”

“You aren’t winning this argument with her. I already tried.” Ethan told the group.

“In that case, let’s go!” Elijah said, excitedly.

The group entered the fair and decided to split up to explore the activities. Somehow, Sadie convinced Ethan that he didn’t need to be with her all day, and that she would be fine going off with Sienna and Vivien.

“Ethan is really overprotective of you right now, huh?” Sienna asked.

“Yeah. I can only imagine what he’ll be like with the baby.” Sadie’s hand rested on her stomach. “Viv, do you think Bryce will be this bad when you guys have kids?”

“We haven’t decided if we’re having kids yet, but if we do… yeah, probably. He’s already overprotective of Keiki and it’ll just be worse if it’s his own kid.” Vivien laughed with the other two.

The group slowly wandered around the shopping booths, finding a lot of things they didn’t need, but really wanted.

“Should I get a sword?” Vivien asked the girls.

“Dude, yes,” Sadie answered.

Sadie and Sienna sat down on a nearby bench as Vivien picked out the perfect sword.

“Oh my god, Sadie?” Someone asked, approaching Sadie and Sienna.

“Vanessa?” Sadie asked. “Holy shit.” Sadie hadn’t seen Vanessa since undergrad, back when they casually dated for a few months. “What are you doing in Boston?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Vanessa laughed, sitting down next to Sadie.

“Oh, I live here now. I matched with Edenbrook for my residency and just stayed on as an attending afterward. Your turn.”

“I’m in Boston for a conference. I did not take you as someone who would go to a renaissance fair.” Vanessa smirked, causing Sadie to laugh.

“One of my friends got a bunch of us tickets. What are you doing here?”

“My girlfriend found out that this fair was happening the same time as my conference and begged me to take her. She’s getting us food right now. So, let me get this straight, you’re an attending now and a mom-to-be?”

“Yeah, Sienna here is actually going to be the godmother.”

“Oh that’s so exciting!” Vanessa said.

“I’m the most responsible out of all our girl friends.” Sienna smiled.

“The fact that you’re a pediatrician definitely made it an easy decision.” Sadie laughed.

“So, what does your partner do?” Vanessa asked.

“He’s also a doctor.” Sadie glanced around the fair and saw Ethan and Aurora coming over. “Oh, here he comes. Hey babe!” Sadie waved at him.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Ethan leaned over to kiss Sadie. “Who’s this?”

“This is Vanessa. We, uh, dated in undergrad. Vanessa, this is my husband, Ethan.”

“Ethan… why does that sound familiar?” Vanessa responded.

“It’s not an uncommon name,” Ethan retorted.

“No, I feel like Sadie talked about an Ethan… wait! Wasn’t that the doctor that you were like ‘he’s the reason I’m applying to med school.’ Oh! What was his last name?”

Sadie bit her lip, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, Sadie, who was that?” Aurora teased. Sienna couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“Ramsey! Right?” Vanessa asked. Sadie just nodded her head, too embarrassed to actually say anything. Both Sienna and Aurora were laughing now.

“I’m the reason you applied to med school?” Ethan asked, shocked.

“One of many!” Sadie clarified.

“Wait, oh my god, you married him? This is like a literal fanfiction!”

“Okay, no, it is not!” Sadie protested.

“Yes, it is,” Aurora added, laughing.

“Well, my girlfriend is coming back over here with our food, so I should get going, but it was great to see you, Sadie!” Vanessa said standing up from the bench.

“Yeah, you too!”

Ethan took Vanessa’s place on the bench next to his wife and Sadie leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Well, your ex seems nice,” Ethan said.

“Shut up!” Sadie groaned, laughing.

Ethan leaned over to place a kiss on the top of Sadie’s head. “How are you doing?”

“Tired… and my feet hurt… and back…”

“Are you saying I was right and we should’ve just stayed home?” Ethan smirked.

“No… I’m just saying we could probably leave now.”

Ethan laughed, standing up and holding a hand out for Sadie, who gratefully took it.

“Hey guys, we’re gonna get going!” Ethan called over to Aurora and Sienna who were admiring the sword Vivien had purchased.

“Aw okay! We’ll see you later!” Sienna called back.

Ethan and Sadie slowly made their way back to the parking lot. When they reached the car, Ethan helped Sadie into the passenger’s seat before walking around to get in the driver’s side.

They rode in silence for a bit before Sadie said, “So, I was going to make you dinner, but uh… I ran into problems.”

“Oh?”

“The problem is that I didn’t last at the renaissance fair until dinner. It is lunchtime at best.”

Ethan started laughing and said, “You really thought you’d last there all day?”

“I was… hopeful!” Sadie responded, laughing. “I’ve never been pregnant before, okay? I’m still learning my limits!”

Ethan reached over the middle console to grab his wife’s hand, bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss on it. “How about I make us lunch, and we’ll order in for dinner?”

“Okay.” Sadie looked over at Ethan fondly, her hand still in his. “But imagine how good at pregnancy I’ll be next time.’

“I don’t think you’ll be that much better.”

“I’ll be better than you’d be.”

“...I can’t argue with that.”

“No you cannot.” Sadie smiled to herself, placing her free hand on her belly. She couldn’t wait to meet her baby.

#answered #request #open heart fanfic #Ethan Ramsey fanfic #Ethan Ramsey x f!mc #Ethan Ramsey x Sadie oakley #Sadie oakley #Ethan ramsey #open heart #pixelberry #play choices #choices stories you play #playchoices

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jujutsu-headcanons · 4 years ago

Text

Team Tokyo First Years Headcanons

(Ft. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojo & Sukuna)

Gojo created a group chat with all three students to coordinate things. However, he never knows if Megumi reads the texts because he never says anything (he does), and all Yuji does is send memes, so basically that's its only function now.

Yuji and Nobara created a game: try to take a picture of Gojo with his blindfold off. He takes it off frequently, it's just impossible to catch an image of it. Surprisingly, Megumi of all people has gotten the closest. If you squint, you can see the baby blues.

This escalated into "who can take the ugliest picture of someone without them looking", after capturing an image of Yuji standing next to Gojo's desk with almost four chins. Nobara discovered she has many bad angles and Gojo discovered he's photogenic from ALL angles.

Yuji likes to use Nobara's ugly pictures as reaction images and memes. At first, Nobara beat him up whenever he did, but now as long as they don't leave the first-year chat she doesn't care. She'll even supply them if she's feeling silly.

Gojo started a prank war on accident and it shows no sign of stopping. It started because he enjoys Nobara's over the top reactions. When she found the LIVE snake in her bed (oh boy, everyone's soooo lucky she's good with reptiles), she immediately suspected this was Yuji's doing. She pranked him, he got her back, Megumi walked into a prank on accident, he got them back twice over, and now it just won't stop. Gojo was fully prepared to deal with the consequences, but he isn't complaining.

The First Year prank war is pretty well known around the school, and everyone's learned to stay away from anything that looks suspicious.

Gojo uses this to his advantage too; sometimes he'll pull pranks on the first and even second years just to watch them blame each other. He's even gone as far as pranking Principal Yaga hoping that he would blame the kids, but Yaga knows for a fact it's Gojo. He hasn't done anything about it though. This stresses Gojo.

Most of the time, when they eat out, each student pays for their meal. When Gojo's there he pays for all four of them, and if Yuji tries to use the "I don't have any money" excuse when Nobara decides to stop for a coffee, she'll buy him one too. She holds it against him, though.

If his kids are all craving a certain type of food (i.e. Chinese) Gojo will head out and pick it up and they'll all eat as a family.

Nobara proposed once a month they have a "spa" day. Surprisingly, the other two students agreed. She's allowed to give them manicures and pedicures (so long as she doesn't get carried away), trim and treat their hair, exfoliate their faces, and they help her re-dye her hair. Megumi is a good client, while Yuji gets bitched at a lot for squirming while getting his nails clipped and jerking when he gets his eyebrows plucked.

Yuji also proposed they have a movie night every Friday night. If they're busy, they'll move it to Saturday, or have it earlier in the day during the week. Sometimes the second years will join. Gojo is banned because he's basically seen every movie and always spoils the end. Everyone got mad at Yuji's request to use subtitles but gave up arguing with how loud Yuji chews.

They also have game nights, but they lost the pieces to most board games after Nobara threw them out the window, Megumi is the only one who knows how to play chess and Shogi, and Yuji fears the safety of his controllers after Megumi got dangerously close to beating Nobara in Smash.

Yuji's room is the main hangout joint because of the electronics he owns. Literally, there's a whole ass common/living room for them to use. However, they go to Nobara's room for a spa day, as long as the boys are gone by sundown.

Gojo knows damn good and well his kids don't like each other in that way and would never have sex with each other, but he still feels the need to give them the talk ™. He's literally given each child a free box of condoms just in case.

Gojo bought each student customized "if lost, please return to Jujutsu Tech" shirts. Yuji doesn't mind wearing his because it's just another hoodie to him, and Nobara doesn't mind hers because it's a crop top and it's cute. Megumi burned his in front of Gojo.

Nobara takes the boys shopping a lot. Megumi is surprisingly good at picking out clothes that fit Nobara's physique and taste, and Yuji is there to hype her up when she walks out of the dressing room. He also isn't scared to tell her a dress doesn't look good on her, and she respects that.

Sometimes even Sukuna will pop out and give commentary. He gives really mixed signals, sometimes he tells her how she's not much to look at, sometimes he talks about the things he wants to do to that ass because of how good they look in those jeans. This results in Yuji getting slapped, Nobara yelling something like "Shut it, Fang Face!" And people staring at him funny because of it.

She also buys outfits for the boys and occasionally Gojo, because she's tired of hoodies and black. She was just as shocked as the rest when Megumi walked out in his outfit. He only wore it to shut her up, though, and hasn't worn it since.

No matter what they're doing, Yuji is ALWAYS the DJ. He has playlists for almost every occasion (spa day, sparring practice, car rides, game nights, even the times they just chill in the same room on their phones) and the only person that really complains is Sukuna, but only because he hates the Backstreet Boys.

Yuji bursts out in song a lot. No matter what he's doing, he'll just start singing. If they know it, Nobara and Gojo will join in too. Always ends in a giggle fit.

Sometimes Gojo's hand slips and boom! He has 18 dozen cookies instead of 4. He's been known to wrap the cookies up in nice tins and packages and leave them outside the kid's doors.

Gojo has also been known to cook meals for the kids and drop them off. This helps because Megumi is basically the only one who can actually cook. Yuji thinks instant ramen is okay for every meal, and Nobara burns food in a way it's still edible but you don't really want it.

The kids play wrestle, a lot. Yuji was scared to at first because the only one who really wants to fight is Nobara, but he learned quickly she can both take and deliver a punch just fine. She also isn't one of those girls that gets upset if there's an accidental grope, which is cool.

This is how the others discovered Megumi is ticklish. Yuji probably still has the scar and Nobara doesn't dare try to tickle him again.

Yuji fell asleep once and woke up to Sukuna's mouth on his cheek having a full-blown conversation with Nobara while she was reading a magazine. He swears they were gossiping about boys, but as soon as Yuji was awake enough to pay attention, Sukuna noticed and started bullying him. To this day Nobara still thinks she was talking to Yuji the whole time because she never noticed he fell asleep.

Yuji can fall asleep almost anywhere. Nobara draws on his face a lot. He's spent countless nights on Megumi's floor just because he's too lazy to move literally one room over.

Nobara has a habit of walking into the boys' rooms without knocking. Megumi is usually laying in bed on his phone or sitting at his desk, however, she's walked into Yuji doing some weird shit. Not gross shit, just... Concerning shit.

Once she walked in on him crying and didn't know what to do. She just kinda walked in and sat down with him until he stopped, occasionally rubbing his back. They didn't say a word until Yuji made a joke and Nobara continued with why she even came into his room, to begin with.

The three students are surprisingly supportive of each other like that, it's just kinda awkward and passive-aggressive at times. Sometimes they even confide in Gojo, and he takes it seriously, surprisingly.

Gojo has a Tik Tok account. He participates in every challenge, every dance, every trend, and apparently has a huge following. Yuji gets featured in the videos sometimes when he isn't recording, and he's mostly doing the stupid shit Gojo does, like doing backflips on building ledges.

While Tik Tok is Gojo's forte Yuji has done video game commentary on twitch and yt live. Megumi is quite popular on subreddits about urban legends and related folklore, and Nobara helps maintain blogs about current events, but... It's mostly celebrity gossip and new music.

Every Saturday is chore day and no one's allowed to do leisurely activities or leave until they're done. Rooms and hallways have to be vacuumed, swept, mopped, whatever. Gojo checks that the rooms aren't dirty. He doesn't mind clutter, he just hates wrappers and shit being left around. He especially pays attention to the cleanliness of the bathrooms for some reason. Megumi is good about cleaning his room throughout the week, Nobara usually just has clutter on her nightstand and dresser, and Yuji waits until the last minute to clean.

The first years used to do their laundry separately, but Nobara threw a temper tantrum when she witnessed Yuji just throw all of his clothes in the washer at once and simply turn it on. Now normally, she wouldn't help anyone get out of work, but she also likes things being done the right her way, so she does his laundry for him. Megumi got involved somehow and now they throw all of their clothes in the same basket and divide them by darks, colors, whites, and delicates. She refuses to let any of their overly- soiled clothes touch hers, so those usually get their own wash too. Each student folds and puts away their own clothes.

Most arguments end with rock paper scissors. Pinkie promises are also sacred.

Gojo keeps a sticker board in the classroom. Whenever the kids do something good, they get a star. Whenever they do something bad, one gets taken away. When they get to five stickers they get a prize from the treasure box.

No one has gotten to five stars yet. This is good because there is no treasure box. Gojo is bullshitting everyone.

Yuji likes to steal Megumi's stickers because he thinks Megumi will not notice. He does every time.

Gojo has a stool in the corner of the classroom complete with a horribly cliche dunce cap he calls "the Naughty Corner" for when the kids "act up". Nobara ends up there because she's always on her phone, Megumi mouths off a lot and has days where he doesn't feel like doing work, and poor Yuji ends up in the naughty corner because Sukuna can't behave.

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